Clareified

“No, Oedipus is the one where the King wants to kill the baby, but the wife can’t do it, so she hides him away…wait…or is that Snow White?”

I was thinking about Cathy Seipp’s daughter a lot this weekend. Children who have lost a parent; parents who’ve buried a child. (When you’re the only child of a single parent, death looms large on the dreaded future’s horizon. Either that you’ll be orphaned or leave your mother inconsolable.) They stay with me. Even if we’ve never met or if I only know there story from the news reports of the tragedy. I went over to her blog and she actually had a poem to her mom who died earlier this year from lung cancer. It was sad.
I was talking to pearatty late one night and I told her that I wish there was a way that people could know you were thinking about them even though you might not know them or talk to them anymore. Maybe make the world just a little bit less of a lonely place to live.

Step 1: Accidentally buy a roundtrip plane ticket for $408, booking a return flight which leaves one week after your vacation ends.
Step 2: Pay $524 for a one way flight back to New York at the airport, the day you need to fly.
Step 3: Plan a trip back to that same destination, so you can use your unused return flight credit of $204.
Step 3: Buy a one way flight out for $30 more than it would be if you simply bought a roundtrip ticket, because you have a $204 flight credit.
Step 4: Use your $204 flight credit to pay the $100 flight change fee, and $149 one way ticket.
Step 5: Use your American Express to pay the difference, plus a $10 reservation fee for using a live operator.
Step 6: Focus on the massage and massive quantities of alcohol Las Vegas has to offer to avoid killing one’s self.

You know you’ve been home too long when you’re Tivoing ‘The Price Is Right.’

Get a Cash Advance

Okay, okay…that’s really the Scrabble blog’s rating, but I wanted Clareified to seem smart too.

via Joe

If there is something to desire, there is something to regret
If there is something to regret, there is something to recall
If there is something to recall, there is nothing to regret
If there is nothing to regret, there was nothing to desire

Vera Pavlova

DELL SUCKS. DELL SUCKS. DELL SUUUCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKSSSSSSSSSSS.

My nineteen month old laptop is now a $2000 paperweight.

That is all.

There’s an X-Files episode where Mulder and Scully end up investigating some incident which leads them to the apartment of a doll collector. Holding one of the freakishly cherubic figurines, Mulder wonders aloud how someone comes to end up collecting dolls of all things. Well, that’s how I feel about the fact that I have seen every single Adam Sandler movie ever to hit the big screen. How did I come to this place? I don’t know. Yes, it probably has something to do with laughing my head off for years whenever I’d think of him tackling the penguin in Billy Madison or screaming at the golf ball in Happy Gilmore. But, every one? Still? Even that crap buddy convict film with Martin Laurence. However, that ends now. NOW! Now I am the woman who never sees Adam Sandler movies. And this time, I know how I got here. Reign Over Me. A terribly written, performed so-called dramedy about a dentist who goes crazy after losing his family on 9/11. I thought Punch Drunk Love was okay, but Sandler is not an…umm…what’s the word I’m looking for…actor. Click also sucked, but the straw that broke Dawn’s obsession was I now pronounce you Chuck and Larry. Here is Sandler doing what he supposedly does best and I didn’t laugh once when he was onscreen. The movie was not just prototypical twelve year old movie homophobic “dont drop the soap” jokes and limp wristed stereotypes, it was unfunny. Any moments it had were all thanks to the King of Queens guy. Adam Sandler just doesn’t have it anymore. So goodbye, Big Daddy. We’ll always have our 50 first dates.

“And when I’m invited to a dinner party, I expect dinner,” F-train said smirking at me from across the table.
Okay, I should back up…
My friend pearatty is a very good cook, and awesomely awesome baker, but a very good cook as well, so when she said that she would make me a lasagna and all I would have to do is take it out of the freezer and stick it in the oven for an hour at 350 degrees, I was psyched.
I would get all the credit for baking lasagna, with none of the work that comes with actually making lasagna.
Win, win for Dawn.
She only had one caution – “Dawn…remember to take the plastic off the lasagna first. I’ve covered it with one layer of plastic and one layer of foil. TAKE OFF THE PLASTIC LAYER BEFORE PUTTING IT IN THE OVEN.”
I mean, she didn’t use all caps, but I felt the allcaps.
Okay, no plastic in the oven. Geez, I’m not an idiot. (Dude, Shut. It. I will play any of you in Scrabble to the death right now. Okay then.)
So, since this week was somehow dubbed “Dawn gets the hell out of bed and starts living her own life again” week, I decided to cap off all my Jersey field trips with a Sunday evening dinner party.
I know that none gimp people have work, so I made it at the very reasonable Golden Girls hour of five pm, and invited the handful of people that have been checking in on me during my sad, dark period of broken footitude. (Hmm…okay I suppose that explains why two separate people, in the past few weeks, have come to the conclusion that I’m all suicidal. Though it does not explain why two separate people, in the past few weeks, have suggested that I adopt children. And certainly does not explain why one person did both.) Anyway, six people said they could make it, though one ended up canceling at the last minute.
“More lasagna for everyone else,” pearatty said when she called to once again make sure that I took the plastic off.
Kaz had called earlier to say that she could make garlic bread and bring snacks.
“Nah, don’t put the lasagna in until five, no one expects to actually eat dinner when the invite says.”
(As you’ll see later, sanks god for that.)
The day before I had ingeniously had this conversation with Karol.
“Hey, should I have a salad with the lasagna dinner?”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Great, thanks.” Done and done.
“What?”
Seriously, where did she find me?
So, with Karol in charge of the salad, Kaz in charge of the garlic bread and Dawn slaving away over the lasagna, dinner was looking good.
Until Karol called to say that due to being out in Atlantic City all Saturday and getting home real late from the inter faith conference, she wouldn’t have time to make the salad.
“YOU PROMISED!” Not to mention she volunteered.
“No, no…don’t worry…I’m going to get the best salad you’ve ever had…I just need to borrow your car.”
So at around four-thirty she took the Professor out to get salad. Meanwhile, I set the oven to 350 degrees for two hours and decided, what the heck…I’ll put it in the oven early.
I took off the plastic, but there was still a clear layer under the foil and I was concerned that it was more plastic…but no…it was just ice.
Again…Scrabble to the death. Bring it.
I put it in, set the table, changed and waited for all my guests to arrive.
Karol called at 5:15 to see if she needed to bring anything else.
“Yeah, some drinks…Pepsi and diet coke…ooh and snacks”
“Dude…how does your dinner party end up costing me $80?”
Mmmmiunno.
“I think I need to start having dinner parties.”
Heh.
“So who’s coming,” she asked when she called back at 5:30, “I’m picking up KJ right now.”
“GREAT! So that makes, me, you and KJ!”
“What? Was this all just a ruse to trick me and KJ into another trip to Atlantic City? Do you have any food at all?”
And just as I was crafting a response, Hitler Youth F-train walked in, looking not one pound over 125 pounds, just so you know. (I demanded a reweighin and he said “I’ll get on your scale right now…but as I weigh just slightly more than 125 pounds and vehemently don’t believe in scales, his follow “bluff? Call.” was apropos.)
“F-train!” I said genuinely glad to see him, “You made it!”
“I rsvpd didn’t I?” he said pausing for a response.
Um…I searched my brain and finding nothing decided that since F-train is an assface, he probably didn’t, so I said
“No?”
“Yes, I did!”
Dammit. I never win coinflips.
“But CK can’t make it.”
“Well, that’s okay, I didn’t even know she was posed to.”
Vicodin not so good for the short term memory, people.
Karol and KJ showed up shortly thereafter and we chatted about our trip to Jersey, F-train showed off his pedicure and I trained KJ to be able to find all the stuff in my apartment, so that he can do everything for Her Highness Dawn Summers without asking where anything is. (Really, the key is memorizing the location of the paper towels and poker tables.)
When Kaz arrived we were ready to eat.
Or so I thought.
I went to check on th lasagna which had been in the oven for more than an hour at this point.
“Hmm…it looks oddly exactly like it did when I put it in…isn’t cheese supposed to melt?”
Kaz concurred.
“Actually, it’s still cold,” she said as she put the garlic bread in on the bottom rack.
I poured wine…or KJ poured wine, love that kid, and we settled in for salad and garlic bread while we waited for the lasagna to…um…thaw? Oven was now increased to 405 despite F-train smirking.
Karol served up the “best salad ever.”
“Um…Karol? Where’s the lettuce?” I asked.
“Greeks don’t make salad with lettuce.”
I would not be moved.
“Where’s the lettuce, Karol?” I said looking into the bags in the kitchen.
“Actually, I like salads without lettuce,” Kaz said totally just being polite to Karol.
“It’s coming,” Karol said, evidently trying a different tact.
“Okay…that’s better.”
Kaz and Karol got into a discussion about whether it’s a good idea to add applications on facebook because they ask for your information.
Karol was pro, Kaz was anti – though she made an exception for Scrabulous. Though she won’t play with me because…um…it wouldn’t be fun to play with a dork that goes to Scrabble clubs. Or something like that.
“I beat Dawn,” KJ offered. I gave him a look and he added “it was only by one point and it probably will never happen again.”
Though I think he then reiterated that he beat me under his breath.
I’m keeping an eye on that kid.
F-train said he was in the process of crushing Ugarles on facebook.
“With or without cheating,” I asked.
“Without!”
“Yeah, I quit playing online cause I just got the sense that everyone was cheating,” I said.
“Who would cheat playing Scrabble online,” Karol naively asked.
“Oh, people just want to look smart,” Kaz answered.
Hell, that’s why I became the Scrabble playing sensation that I am.
Half an hour had passed and the lasagna was still cold.
I suggested increasing the temperature on the oven again.
“No, Dawn…if you do that the outside will be black and the inside will be frozen,” F-train said reaching for more garlic bread.
I reached for a knife.
“NO MORE BREAD…OR SALAD…we’re going to have lasagna and I expect you to eat it!”
“And when I’m invited to a dinner party, I expect dinner,” F-train said smirking at me from across the table.
KJ snuck him a carrot stick.
That kid is my enemy for life.
I texted pearatty for help.
“Hmm…almost two hours in the oven and it’s still frozen? That sucks,” she offered.
Not helping.
See, and this is why Dawn Summers doesn’t do dinners.
It apparently reminded all my guests about why I don’t do dinners too because they were all like “hahaha, this is just like your Thanksgiving last year…KJ, you have to read about this!”
“My favorite line is her mother wondering if she’s retarded,” F-train said.
Awesome.
Eleven solid months of blocking out last November down the tubes.
“I choked up when you wrote that Karol came over the next day,” Kaz added.
“Yeah, I am awesome,” Karol said “where do I trade in one of you, for one of me?”
My guess would be the bad deals store.
HA. HA. HA.
Ooh did you know that apparently NPR does a comedy show? Well they do and when Kaz and Ftrain told me about it, I said “oh do I have to watch all the time or is it just once a year?”
“HAHAHAH you don’t watch NPR, you idiot…it’s radio. Maybe you are retarded,” F-train said.
“I will play you in Scrabble and make you cry, right now, twig boy.”
Kaz finally figured out a brilliant solution to our lasagna problem. (Knife and smaller pieces were involved.) And dinner was finally served.
“Wow, this is really good. Pearatty did a good job!”
Heeeeeey, that’s my praaaiiisssseeeeee.
Pout.
Well, who did a good job sending out the invites and taking the RSVPS?
Shut it, F-train.
Karol and Kaz started to bond over stripey socks and my eclectic musical selection, so we had to put a stop to that by reminding everyone that Karol represents all that is wrong and evil, while Kaz believes in all that is right and good.
That seemed to put out that fire.
For dessert I got a key lime pie, but that just reminded me of the key lime pie and so was wholly unsatisfying in every way…though my guests seemed to like it.
F-train and Kaz left and KJ helped clear the table and put everything away.
“Hey, what should I do with this?” he said holding up the last bit of remnants of the salad.
“Oh, just leave it there, I’ll eat it.”
“Should I put it in a smaller bowl?”
“Nah.”
“Hey, you should put that in a smaller bowl,” Karol said for the table.
“Okay, put it in a smaller bowl.”
“What the hell? I say it, and you’re all ‘nah’ but Karol says it and you tell me to do it???”
“What can I say? She’s white. I’ve been conditioned to accept them as authority figures.”
He then suspended my chat privileges in the kitchen.
We played some poker with Karol until her mommy picked her up, and then we played heads up for a while. I crushed his spirit completely, which is the only way I can explain his suggestion that we play Scrabble.
“Dude, I own you at poker and now you want me to destroy you at Scrabble? Okay!”
It was good to actually play with tiles, though my fancy tiles are nowhere to be found, KJ is a bit of a trash talker, so when he took a pretty solid lead early, it made my inevitable crushing of him that much more sweet…but that is a story for the Scrabble blog…which is back, baby! Just in time for Thanksgiving.
So there we have it, my impressive dinner party, thanks to all of you for playing, see ya next Fall.

“You killed a helicopter with a car.”

OH MY GOD. Okay, why was I not told that this was the greatest movie made this year and quite definitely the best Die Hard film EVER. Now, sure, that is not the coolest helicopter shot out of the sky scene I’ve ever seen in a movie, but Bruce Willis surfing a F15 fighter jet? (duh, Sahara, 2004. Cannon ball. Nuff said.)
Oh and the most plausible yikay yay motherfucker line since the original AND his daughter totally kicking ass? This movie has EVERYTHING.

EVERYTHING…even JCN co-starring as the comic relief sidekick.

Crazy.

WOW.

I also saw ‘Abandoned’ last night and it was quite good, if you’re into Russian-set pyschological horrors. Best of all to be abandoned, indeed.