Sister In Law for Sale, Slightly Used, Asking Price OBO: A Guest Post

No, it’s not Sarah today1.  It’s Watson, her intrepid cub reporter and SIL, or, as we like to say, “sister from another mister.”

Today’s will be a post to file under the Lifestyle Section.

It starts off with some depressing backstory, but ends up with a funny kick to the rear.

Sarah is nothing if not highly amused* by the entire process.

I imagine a few of her followers are curious about why, exactly, I popped into her life so suddenly last spring.  Basically, in a nutshell, I woke up and realized that the relationship I was in was beyond toxic.  I am a fixer by personality and extremely loyal, so I kept trying to make everything right, but I was the only one.

And, you know, a relationship takes two.

The last straw came the week I was laid off.  He was being his usual selfish, emotionally abusive self, only seeing what my unemployment would do to his fully-supported lifestyle, and for once, I wasn’t taking it well.

And then he said, for about the hundredth time, “I don’t know why I’m still with you. I should just leave!”  This was his standard way to get me to rush in and fix the situation.  This time, I decided I was going to fix the situation.

I said, “You know what?  That’s a great idea.  Please leave.”

Gobsmacked face.  “But where will I go?”

Epiphany face. “Not my problem.”

It was time to start over and the Universe seemed to be saying it was time to leave the DC metro area.   Which is how I ended up here, sitting on the guest bed of my mom’s basement apartment in Sarah’s house, technically living out of Storage Unit 75, licking my wounds and dissolving into puddles of major depression and anxiety attacks.**

Which, if you know me, is not remotely like me.***  My friends nicknamed me Smiley, because I’m literally always smiling.  Or, they used to call me that.  See the bit about toxic relationship above.

Which brings us to The Kick In The Pants.

Fast CarsI’m a motorcycle girl at heart.  Life is just better on two wheels, that’s all there is to it.  I have a ton of biker girlfriends and we all tend towards loud statements (might be deafness from the wind noise), though our actions definitely speak louder than words.

Truth be told, biker girl actions tend to SCREAM.

So how was this screaming kick delivered, and why is Sarah weeping with laughter behind my chair as I type?

I was told, very clearly by one of them to “get back out there,” an order that held a surprising amount of weight, considering it came from a woman who also threatened to fly halfway across the country, ring our doorbell, slap me upside the head, and then fly home.  She is nothing if not determined.  And loaded.

And when I didn’t follow her “advice,” she took the low road and signed me up for online dating.

And supplied the images.

I was honestly surprised she hadn’t already set up my profile for me.

And she also recruited our mutual friends and they got in on the Badgering of Watson, and sent their own advice, dating columns, ebooks, and other links to dating sites.   And also a shockingly long discussion of what specific star signs to look for.

There was much pushing for an Aries.

I looked that up, ladies, so I know what you were hinting.

Apparently, my friends think I need to get laid.^

Seriously?  Am I that pathetic?^^

You know what—I’m not going to ask a bunch of biker chicks that question, for fear that they will answer truthfully.

FriendsSo over the weekend there was much giggling by Sarah at the profiles on the site, as well as by me.  Honestly, wish you were here, it was ever so much fun.

Our personal favorite was the poor gentleman who selected the screen name “Dungo Love Chocolate.”

Seriously?  Seriously? “Dungo Love Chocolate” was the best you could think of?  I don’t think I’d take that, even if the only other choice was “BigMember4U.”

I need to find my fellow nerds and gearheads on the site:  a “BikerBoy” and “Red2standingBy” and “GeekLove” and “GearHead68.”^^^

Or, you know, just someone nice for a change.~

So you’re welcome to contact Sarah, who might end up my pimp~~ as she goes about her library duties.  “Oh well thank you, I’m flattered, you’re cute too, but I’m married.  You’re tall, though, would you like to meet my sister in law?”

I imagine my dating woes will be a continuing source of amusement for Sarah’s muse, ~~~so keep an eye out for it.

So here’s to hoping Hottie McHottiepants— the tall geeky Aries with a — emails me back.

And seriously, thanks for the kick in the rear, ladies.  I’m your classic Scorpio, so it’s not easy for me to admit this out loud:

You were right.



1Except in the footnotes.  Anyone surprised?

*Not true.  I am completely sympathetic to your plight.  I just choose to express this through snarky comments and uncontrollable laughter.

**And kick-ass movie marathons and spelling tests.

***Except for the movie marathons.

^This one thinks we’d better make sure your mother never sees this post.  Or mine, but mostly because she’ll help.  You are not to set her up with Paul, Mom. Or Ben. I mean it.

^^No.  And I’ll keep telling you until you believe me.Spiderweb Test

^^^Or “MathnSpanishtutor,” “Swissiedogguy,” or even “401KDude.”  Maybe I should go for “TallGuyWantsShortNerd”

~Or under 6’4″,  Ms. Picky. 

~~Please.  I am a yente.  And an unpaid one, by the way.  Please, I’m the yente’s homeless unpaid babysitter cook. True.  Looks good on you.

~~~Ohhhh, yeah.  One of the reasons I married your brother was so I would have an excuse not to date anymore.  Because it sucks in many wild and wonderful ways and is pure comedy gold to one’s friends.

Random Thursday: Now, With 84% more Watson

Random Thursday: the day when Sarah saves up all the weird wacky things that people have sent her and shares them in lieu of writing an actual post.

Only this time, it’s even more random: that’s right, your intrepid cub reporter Watson has stolen Sarah’s blog. Memes, memes, and more good memes!

I get random things emailed to me too, from my very random friends who include the “ladies” from my old all-girl biker gang (whose name cannot be mentioned on Sarah’s blog), a double PhD from MIT, a woman who sits on five corporate boards, and a guy with both a fine arts degree and a black belt in Krav Maga. Randomly, I appear to have an odd assortment of random friends.

Woe befall ye who read below.

Act I: On Superheroes

Just Be Cos-Play

Sarah might be (slightly) obsessed with the Avengers movie, but I’m slightly obsessed with comic books in general.

Janie IS Captain Obvious

I have this weird tendency to make up nicknames, generally on a comic book theme for people, and will refer to people in public as The Purple Shirt when pointing someone out. In Janie’s case, she is either the old classic, Captain Obvious, or Captain Non-Sequitur. I was forced to explain what Captain Obvious was, so I found this:

Which of course just backfired, as now she runs around the house loudly pointing out “look, that’s the vacuum!” and “look, there’s my sister!”

Act II: On Derping

Teaching Janie Math

Speaking of derping, Janie and I can have some serious derp battles over homework, and make the rest of the adults in the house wonder which of us is more mature (we might be tied at this point).  She’s great at math, but tries to weasel out of having to do the problems.  Problem is, she asks me ridiculous questions like “what’s 13 minus 8?” then gets mad when I don’t tell her.  What I generally do to her resembles this:

Act III:  This Picture Says It All

(Sarah’s note:  Thank you, Captain Obvious)

Act IV: On Movies

Technological Difficulties, Please Just Stop

Blue-ray.  Let’s take a moment to talk about blue-ray and the digital age.  I’m dying to see Keanu Reeves’ new documentary about Hollywood’s current technological shift from film to digital.  The Red system, a fully digital lightweight camera system, is cheap, by movie camera standards, and is therefore accessible to more and more filmmakers.  And without the need for film and processing, anyone can make a moderately-priced movie.

But that doesn’t mean you can just take this new awesome format and go mucking about with my favorite old movies.  Yes, please, transfer them to a new digital format so we don’t lose them in the first place!  Please, save all the old movies from the 20s and 30s!  I’m all for it.

But for the love of all that’s Hollywood, please stop trying to improve the movies as you transfer them.  Leave them alone, or else we’re going to end up with this:

Because No Movie Discussion is Complete Without Mentioning Sean Bean

Someone once made a graph about the multitude of ways that Sean Bean dies in movies.  It’s sort of a running joke around here.  Game of Thrones is announced starring Sean Bean—I get stoked, then realize they tapped him for Ned Stark and give up.  It’s bean years since I’ve seen him survive a movie.


Act V: On Nerd Alerts

I Present To You a T-Rex With No Game

Janie and I tried to do the two-person thing where one person slides their arms under the armpits of another person and gestures while they talk.  Janie was really bad at it, but Sunny decided she wanted to try.  Have you ever seen Jim Carrey’s T-Rex impersonation in Series of Unfortunate Events?  It looked a lot like that – short little stubby T-Rex arms.  Doing T-Rex arms around this house is a bit in vogue occasionally, including the slightly awkward “high three” in lieu of a human high five, so the following was immediately emailed to Sarah — and possibly explains why the dinosaurs went extinct.

I Really Can’t Explain Why This Makes Me Laugh

Every single time I see it.  It confirms my theory that ostriches are just funny.


Act VI: On This Defies Description

Mad skills?  Mad genius?  Just mad in general?  You make the call.

Watson’s Moviegasm Guest Post (with occasional commentary)

In the interest of keeping Sarah’s sanity, but more importantly* getting her novel edited and submitted, I have been volunteered to be a guest columnist.  So you’ll have to make do with a change of subject and my verbosity.

As I am not a writer, nor do I have kids, I’m afraid Sarah’s usual muse doesn’t quite work with me.  I have three main interests — motorbikes, dogs, and movies.  No one but a fellow gear head can tolerate my obsession with motors and speed, and writing about my dog is a wee bit boring even though she is the cutest little dog** you’ve ever seen.

So you’re stuck with my love affair with movies.

And yeah, I’m the total nerd that watches the commentary tracks and the making of specials and the special effects documentaries.  I own a documentary about making a movie, and I don’t even own the movie that the documentary was about.

I guess it could kinda be about the writing — it’s a combination of the spoken word with visual images and music, more of a theatre on film thing.  Clever writing with stunning visual images leads to a beautiful whole — much like clever writing with fabulous editing in the book world (see the Harry Potter series, you can tell when she got famous).

Anyway, since I’ve moved closer to my sister-in-law (perhaps closer than she wanted, as we’re now at that point where we’re finishing each other’s sentences and have been referred to once or twice as “that nice young lesbian couple down the way”), I consider it my sworn duty to catch her up on all the movies she missed while raising two kids.  Turn about’s fair play — there is a small mountain of books I’m meant to read sitting on my dresser waiting my attention.

So if you’ve been wondering what Sarah and I have been up to, and want to play along, I’ve assembled this list of my favorites from movies that I have recently made her watch, or am planning to make her watch.  Eventually.  When the kids are asleep and we can turn the subtitles on — viewer discretion is advised if you’re playing at home.  Remember, I’m a total gear head here, and we have an admittedly odd sense of humor and are impervious to cussing.


Favorite Nerd Moment:  ‘We Don’t Hock the Trek’ from FanboysFanboys is a fun little movie if you are a complete Star Wars nerd and can quote chapter and verse from Parts 4-6, or movies 1-3, depending on if you’re going in Lucas-time or chronological real-world time.  Anyone besides me know the name of Chewbacca’s home planet?

(a little strong language, here, obviously)

(Sarah:  I’d like to point out that the heroes couldn’t have won without the help of a certain Trek star.  Just sayin’)


Favorite Squirm Moment from Sarah: My SIL is a delight to watch movies with*** because she watches a movie with her entire body.^  To date, my favorite squirm was accompanied by a pillow-face-cover, an “Oh, NO” and a squeal of embarrassed pain for our protagonist during the most cringingly awkward dance scene on film (it’s the one in Rocknrolla between One Two and Stella).

(Sarah: This . . . I just . . . Guh)

Honorable mention: Janie screaming with laughter and running from the room when Gru gets de-pantsed in Despicable Me.


Most Quoted/Sung Movie Moment In The House: also from Despicable Me, when the minions get to Best Buy, find the karaoke machine, and sing the wrong words to Copacabana.

Honorable Mention: Julie Andrews from the same movie, talking about her character — “She’s awful!  She’s just awful!”


Favorite Sex Scene: okay it’s not actually a sex scene, but it might as well be.  It’s the fight scene in The Losers between Clay and Aisha in the beginning of the movie. What better visual metaphor than actually setting the room on fire?

A very close Runner Up (Sarah: pun intended): One Two and Stella in Rocknrolla.^^


Favorite “Oh my god this is an animated movie and I’m having an emotional reaction to it” Scene: It’s in How to Tame Your Dragon.  I defy you not to cry at the ending.  I was in floods in the movie theatre.  Seriously.  It’s one of my all time favorite movies, period.  It’s got the best acting in an animated movie I’ve ever seen, and Craig Ferguson as Gobber — how can you go wrong?


Favorite Character Ever Put to Film: Ooooo, I don’t think I can answer that.  I love the humor of Cap’n Jack Sparrow, the honor-bound duty of Maximus, sweet bumbling Po, the father-son dynamic between Stoick and Hiccup, the horrible cringe-worthiness of Kirk Lazarus, Indiana Jones, the Cowardly Lion, the sheriff in Blazing Saddles, the ensemble of Full Monty… Sorry, can’t pinpoint it.  So my final answer is Helena the Hussy of Horror — she was created by one of my best friends, I worked most of her early episodes, and what can I say, I’m a homer.


Favorite Scene: Sean Bean reading poetry in Equilibrium.  Breathtaking.  Gives me goose bumps just explaining it.^^^  It’s only a slightly above average movie, as movies go, but what a scene when taken in context of the whole.


Favorite Comic Book Movie:  Sorry, Sarah, it doesn’t involve the Avengers, or Jeremy Renner’s arms (Sarah:  Philistine).  It’s The Losers, followed quickly by Captain America and Rocknrolla.  And RED.+  And 300.  And Iron Man.  And Sin City.  Then the Avengers.  Aw crap, any comic book movie, okay?


Favorite Science Fiction Movie: We’ll mention Galaxy Quest in another category so the answer is Sunshine.  You’ve probably never heard of it, and probably won’t ever see it but if you get the chance, do.  It’s a mind-blowing film.  Caveat: I haven’t seen Moon yet, and I do love me some Sam Rockwell.


Favorite Star Trek Movie of All Time: Galaxy Quest.  (Think about it.)


Favorite Argument:  The dude argument in Baseketball, which was featured here previously.  I can’t think of any funny arguments on film outside of The Ref with Kevin Spacey – tell me some in the comments! (Sarah: What she said)


Favorite Made Sarah Laugh Out Loud So Hard We Almost Woke Up the Kids Moment: Hot Fuzz, it’s the “short cut” scene over the fences where the second-rate cop crashed through the fence.  Or maybe it was anything to do with the swan, because Sarah grew up with geese.  Actually there were several in Hot Fuzz — “look at his hoorse” —  and I stand triumphant in this particular struggle. For the record, getting her to see Hot Fuzz involved begging and coercion, I had to watch four episodes of Leverage (Sarah:  Hey, now you’re getting personal) to get her to agree — finally — to see it (and that was after another friend made fun of her for not seeing it yet).++


Favorite “Holy cow can this chase scene ever end?” Moment: sorry, it’s Rocknrolla again.  There’s a fabulous slow motion chase on foot between two huge men well over six feet tall jogging on a rail road track, which then begins again when the second Russian shows up.  Yes, it goes on forever – but that’s part of the humor.

Honorable Mention: the chase in the Bourne Redundancy (Sarah: Diss not the Renner, woman) even if it is on two wheels.  Well, any chase scene in the Bourne series, really — they’re spectacular but they tend to drag.


Favorite Movie of All Time in Watson’s Book: no, it’s not a comic book movie or even science fiction, it’s The Insider with Russell Crowe and Al Pacino.  Close seconds are Trainspotting, How to Tame Your Dragon, Sunshine, Gladiator, and (oh hell) just about anything with Russell Crowe in it.

There.  I admitted it in public.  The man can make me weep (Cinderella Man, Gladiator, LA Confidential, A Beautiful Mind), laugh (Sum of Us), be terrified (eek – Hando in Romper Stomper, LA Confidential; terrified for him in Heaven’s Burning), make you warm and fuzzy  (Mystery Alaska, Silver Brumby, Sum of Us) and held me on the edge of my seat holding my breath for two and a half hours (The Insider).


My Favorite Movie You’ll Never See: Dear Frankie.  Awesome movie about a mother who does the best she can to protect her son from the truth — which means she makes the choice to lie horribly to him every day.  Brilliant subtle slow movie about how far you’d go to protect your kid.

Runner up: The Price of Milk, a little New Zealand gem about blanket thieves and cattle (I am SO not making that up).


Favorite Villain: Who doesn’t love a good villain?  Most modern villains are too watered down for public consumption to be good – writers, take note. For modern non-animated movies, the nod goes to Max from The Losers.  He’s deliciously slimy and I love to hate him.  As for older animated movies, my vote goes for the Queen in Snow White and Cruella de Ville.  And for the record, I was in college and had a nightmare about the Wicked Witch of the West’s flying monkeys — modern villains are just not scary.+++


Movie You’d Be Shocked to Know I Haven’t Seen Yet:  The Hurt Locker.  Still can’t believe I haven’t seen it.  (Sarah:  This may be the only Jeremy Renner film I haven’t seen . . . Guess I know what we’re doing this weekend)


Movie I’m Dying to See Next: Hansel and Gretel: Witch HuntersIt’s a fairy tale.  And it’s steampunk.  I’m so in.  And so’s Sarah – it features Jeremy Renner’s arms. (Sarah:  Watch it—I’ll start rhapsodizing over your brother’s arms, and you know that weirds you out)

Honorable Mention: Ted, but I think I’m going to buy that one on the sale rack at Best Buy in about six months.


So there they are.  Make up a category and let us know your favorites, or add your own to the list.

This is Watson signing off, just your average movie-loving gear head SIL that Sarah just can’t take anywhere . . .

(But I do, anyway—Thanks, Watson)


*No, my priorities are correct.  This book is driving her nuttier than squirrel poo. (Sarah:  You ain’t seen nothing yet, lady)

**Sarah:  Little?  She weighs a buck twenty and Sunny and walk right under her chin without ducking.

***If you discount her propensity to interrupt important dialogue by asking “tell me he’s not going to“ or “oh no tell me this works out in the end” at least ten times each movie.  Seriously, the girl can’t stand not knowing what happens. (Sarah:  I don’t do this in the theater.  And it’s not my fault Hot Fuzz is so flippin’ wrong—awesome, but wrong)

^I was a little worried about my right arm when we went to see the latest Bourne.  I do have a suspicious bruise on my forearm that I can’t explain… (Sarah:  Lies.  Lies and Slander.  It was a Janie hug, and she knows it)

^^ Probably because of the back story.  The sex scene was pages long and should have gone on for minutes according to Guy Riche’s original script (a long sex scene is 60 seconds or less, believe it or not).  On the day of the shooting, Gerard Butler comes down with a terrifying throat infection that eventually puts him out for a week of filming (they had to rewrite the end of the film to use a stand-in; you can actually hear the difference in his voice in a few scenes).  Thandie Newton is a smart cookie and said “ew, I’m not kissing that.”  So they reworked the sex scene where neither of them are actually in bed together.  Hysterical.  And possibly a mean trick to play on the SIL — mention a sex scene with Gerard Butler and every girl’s heart gets racing (I might have coerced her into seeing the movie because of it) (Sarah:  No, it was pretty much Tom Hardy).  Instead it’s laugh out loud funny — and fully clothed.  Seriously, the only action poor Gerard gets is being groped by Tom Hardy in my second favorite awkward dance scene, still in the same movie but during the credits (Sarah:  Laughed so hard I cried).

^^^It should be noted that I could listen to Sean Bean reading the shipping report and probably have the same reaction, but I swear, it’s a poignant scene.

+Sarah’s: I’d like to remind someone that it took me two months to get to you watch this movie. 

++Sarah:  In my defense, I thought it was like Reno-911, which is right up there with Girls Gone Wild in my Death First list—if she’d started out telling me that Simon Pegg and Martin Freeman were in it . . .

+++ Speaking of:  Rent the full version of The Wizard of Oz and watch the first 30 minutes.  If you don’t start shouting “stranger danger! stranger danger!” at Dorothy and get the heaving squickies when the traveling professor invites her into his wagon, you need to read more of the newspaper and stop parking next to vans. Seriously.

Random Thursday: It’s all Relative

Been an odd week at Chez Wesson, all told—though I’m not telling all of it.



Let’s Give Mommy an Earmworm:  Sunny

Singing this under my breath all day wouldn’t be so bad, if I worked in Youth Services.

I don’t.


Invisible Fairy Gardens

When my folks arrived to take the kids to Six Flags last month, Mom showed me photos of the old herb garden.  What was once a clump of wildly overgrown, half-buried half-barrels is now an area of raised beds and neat plantings—though I noticed St. Francis of Assisi is still being strangled by the mint.*

To the right of that longsuffering, if fresh-smelling, saint is Mom’s fairy garden, of which she is very proud.

It features an upright log with a driftwoody sort of top and a small door at the bottom.  There is a pathway.  There are toadstools.  There is patio furniture. There are gnomes.

It is excellent.

It is also invisible, because I couldn’t pull the photos off her camera for some reason and decided just last night, that I could use them for today’s post.   I called Dad, explained how to send an attachment, and after a while, received an iPhoto file that he thought might actually be all the photos on Mom’s camera and which completely baffled my laptop when I tried to get it open, even with the recommended software.

My husband suggested that Watson might be able to open it on her iPad, so I forwarded her the file and sent her a head-up text before remembering that she has trouble getting a connection on her Virginia-based phone, especially when she’s in my MIL’s guest room (ie, the back basement).

I could  have gone down to see her, but I’m essentially lazy and a few minutes later, my MIL came up for a book she’d left, anyway, so I asked her to ask Watson to look at her e-mail, but only if Watson wasn’t asleep already because it really wasn’t an emergency.

Apparently, this translated into intercepting Watson on the way to the bathroom and telling her I needed her right away.

So Watson and I had a very quick conversation which was half apology on my part and half yes, okay, hurry up and tell me what you need, please on hers.  She told me to forward it to another e-mail address and disappeared.

Fifteen minutes later or so, I received an e-mail that said she couldn’t get it open, either.

So, I sent Dad an e-mail thanking him for the effort along with another stab at explaining how to attach a photo using an e-mail system with which I wasn’t familiar on an operating system I don’t use, because I’m a librarian and have had some experience in explanations of this kind.**

The explanations aren’t always successful, b either way, at the posting of this, he hasn’t yet replied.  You’d think he had a life that didn’t revolve around me, or something . . .

And that’s why there aren’t any images of Mom’s fantastic fairy garden today—but as the entire family was involved, barring the kids and the cat, I thought I’d mention it, anyway.


Let’s Give Mommy an Earmworm:  Janie

She has it memorized.

And she’s sung it so often that I am psychologically conditioned to respond with the next line whenever I hear:

“Da da DA dada, ChickEN!”

And everyone in the family knows this.


Watsonisms, or Yeah, that one’s my fault

My sister-in-law, aka Watson, has brought more to our lives than a truly massive DVD collection, mad cooking skillz, a dog the size of a pit pony, and a general willingness to schlep her nieces to softball games.

She’s also brought a whole range of infectious sayings.  Usually, it’s one of the kids, but we’ve all pretty much picked these up, barring my husband, who just shakes his head:

Kiss my grits — shorthanded over the months to “See those grits?” and then “Griiii-iiiits.”

It’s all gravy — presumably to go with the grits, but I’m afraid to ask.

Easy, killer — hilarious when five-year old Sunny says this to her older sister.

And what did we learn? — yesterday, or so I’m told, Sunny grabbed Janie’s nose and let go just as Janie took a mock swing at her.  Janie punched herself in the face and sat there stunned as her favorite aunt raised an eyebrow and said what came naturally.

Really?  Really?  — yeah, that’s apparently where I picked that up.  I’d wondered . . .

Dude  — more of a reintroduction, really (really?), but she showed us that a complete conversation could be had with a single word:

It’s all good — See “It’s all gravy.”

‘Sup pup? — because it drives Janie crazy, that’s why.

It was Meeeeee!”  (must be said in a high-pitched voice with enthusiastic Wallace*** hands) —- the explanation for this one involves a sports bike group, an SBD,^ and a six-foot tall Hungarian model.  I’m sure you can work out the rest.

Klassy with a Capital K— follows naturally from the previous one, doesn’t it?

Yeah, that one’s my fault — See “Easy Killer”

Ha!  That one wasn’t me! — translation:  hey, I’m  not the one who dropped the frozen peas all over the kitchen floor and said that word in front of ’em.
It’s a small price to pay for her company, I suppose . . . even if she also sends me things like this, instead of images of fairy gardens:

funny puns - A View of the Milky Way From the Surface of Mars
It’s a view of the Milky Way from the surface of Mars.  Really.


Strings Attached

My husband introduces me to the coolest stuff: cult movies, Metallica, skiing, the Stratford Shakespeare Festival, weightlifting, Wallace and Gromit (by the way), Apocalyptica, marriage, Terry Pratchett—or maybe those last ones were me?

But this one was definitely his:

Thanks, love.


* Which appears to be the tradition in every herb garden I’ve seen in which he makes an appearance, even if the gardener never planted mint in the first place.  I can’t tell if this is due to reverence or jealousy on the part of the floral world.

** And have also developed a sort of what-the-heck pessimism that looks a lot like optimism if you don’t’ work with the public as extensively as I do.

*** From Wallace and Gromit.  Imagine him saying, “Cheese, Gromit!  We’ll go where there’s cheese!

^Silent But Deadly

Random Thursday: Sleep Deprived Edition

Random Thursday (ˈrandəm ˈTHərzdā):  the day on which Sarah plunks down all the odd bits and pieces she’s acquired during the week in an effort to avoid writing a real post, the assembly of which usually ends up taking twice as much time as actually sitting down and creating real content.

Especially when the blasted videos won’t embed and I’m running about six hours low on sleep after a virus.  But y’all ought to be used to that by now . . . 


Bring it

Someday in the far future, when  my children tell their therapists that I was the Worst Mother Ever, I will speak only four words (and be thinking four more)  in my defense:

“Animal Pancakes for Dinner.”

With chocolate chips, baby.


Better Late than Ø

My SIL has wanted to establish a new Sorority/Fraternity/Egality ever since she realized that fifty-one percent of Miami University (of Ohio, thank you) was Greek.

She had the name all picked out.

Σ = Sigma

Φ = Phi

Ø = Empty Set, or Nothing

Sigma Phi Nothing.  

Say it quicker.


We’re gonna do it—better late than never.  Want to join?

There will be shirts.  And I was promised a ball cap.


 The Right to Bare Arms . . . 

Twelve people have landed here in the past three days by googling “Jeremy Renner’s arms.”

Which, I inadvertently discovered yesterday, have their own Facebook and Tumblr accounts.

Seriously?  I mean, I know I mentioned them myself, but . . . seriously?

The man works hard for twenty years, building a career of solid performances, finally gets an Oscar nod for carrying The Hurt Locker—an amazing flick with no overt sex appeal whatsoever*—takes on more roles that showcase him as far more than a run-of-the-mill thug or a cardboard action hero in spandex, and all we can do is wolf whistle?

C’mon people, we can do better than that.

Besides, if we’re going to fall into shallow love with the man, let it be over his voice:

The one I really wanted to share was Mr. Renner singing  ‘New York State of Mind‘ on the Jimmy Fallon Show, but it wouldn’t embed form Tumblr and YouTube blocked it, so click the link and thank me later.

 But this next one is his own composition—we’ll forgive him for the oops near the beginning:

Because any man who can sing like this?  I don’t care what he looks like, ’cause I’ve got my eyes closed anyway.


Aliases are Stranger than Fiction

 I figured my SIL has been mentioned enough around here to get her own blog alias.

She suggested Lisa,  but we’ve got at least three here already and calling her Bruce (with or without thick, fake Australian accent) to avoid confusion wouldn’t work for reasons metaphorical and literal.**

So I asked her what her middle name was.***  She told me, and I fell off my chair.

It’s Watson.

Forget for a second that I’m the writer around here and she’s the brains—I’ve got my own Watson, y’all!


*If your mileage varies that much, this blog is going to bore you to death.

**A brownie point to the first person who gets this reference.

***I refuse to believe this is odd, neglectful, or anti-social.  Outside of my immediate family, I don’t bother memorizing middle names—I’m not sure it’s possible. It’s all I can do to remember spouses and married  names . . .  Yeah, okay, it’s all I can do to remember to ask my parents about them.  My memory is stuffed full of other things—none of which are Jeremy Renner’s arms or Benedict Cumberbatch’s cheekbones thank you so very much.^  Though I’ll cop to recognizing them when I see ’em. ^

^Note from Watson:  Methinks she doth protest too much.^^

^^Note from Sarah:  Hey—you were supposed to be proofreading.