You know things are getting serious around here when the MoH tells us that we should just go ahead and watch American Noodle without him because he has no idea when he’ll be home. See, the rule is, we DVR the show, watch something else (because he wants to watch it WITH us) and then when he flies up the stairs from the garage, I throw his dinner at him as his butt hits the chair and we play catch up with the recording.

I looked at him Monday, telling him we’d record it for him so he could speed through the commercials when he got home thereby salvaging his being in the know status about who’s who when things are finally getting interesting.

Like keeping track of Paula’s outfits.

It appears that when she was getting dressed, the delicate, lacy fabric became caught on its hanger and she tried to unhook it, but became irritated and maniacally ripped it free. Okay, so maybe that’s something I would do, but I wouldn’t wear it afterwards. Hell, Christian from Project Runway needs to dress the woman. Then she’d truly be fierce. Moving right along…I say Ramiele is going to be voted off the NoodleLand this evening. Yes, she’s cute. And yes, I think her voice has possibilities when she’s not yelling, thinking about listening to her own singing, or singing off key, which is frequently. AND because Kristy Lee actually sang better than ever. Of course she pulled a serious fast one by singing a stand up and pound your patriotic chest type song which means she’ll get a vote from every Republican on Earth. It’s true. This will seal her career as a Ball Park singer. She is cute, though. Apple Pie and all that. Well, except the cage fighting she says she’s interested in. Hmmm…

Now, rounding out the bottom three and providing Ramiele company for the show will be Chikezie because there is no way he’s going to be able to keep up with the hunkster voting hoards.

And sadly, Carly. I like Carly. I love her voice, her song selections, her intensity. Plus, she’s from Paradise! But I think she won’t get the votes AND may even lose to Ramiele tonight which would be par for the course. *sigh* We had all our cells lined up last night because damnit, we were going to text in our votes for the first time ever. And then the RTR said, “We have AT & T?” Uh. Nope. I knew that.

Syesha has a great voice, but she can’t keep pace with the voting either. I do think she out sang Jason, who’s fun to listen to, has a very unique style that takes me right back to when I was a teenaged cute thing. All he needs to sing is “Summer Breeze,” or a Bread song. Then I’ll be happy. *Who?* You had to be there, okay?

Let’s see…Brooke sort of fits right in with Jason era wise. She makes me think of Carly Simon and Carole King and she’s got the peaches and roses thing going on, so she’ll be fine, too. For a while. Or wait. Maybe it was sunshine.

And David A? Well, he’s going to keep getting votes from the tweeners. He just will. And he’s so sweet, even if my sister thinks he has pig eyes.

Michael Johns FINALLY let it rip and was outstanding. Totally. Of course, the females in the audience could care less as long as they just get to see his face each week. So he’s in.

And I think this guy’s the most talented of the bunch.

He brings everything he’s got every week and is amazing regardless of what Simon says. What does he know, anyway? Will David Cook win it all? Hell no. Too many stoopid voters out there.  You know, people who have AT & T.  *just kidding* This year, any of three could win and it would be fine.

At least they have talent.

So, just remember. You heard it here.

And then I’ll be famous.

I’m throwing in my two cents on which people are going to get voted off American Noodle tonight, because I can imagine that you just may want to bump up your thinking about my ability to just know things. I can’t use this remarkable skill for anything that would make a difference, however, such as winning the Lotto, investing my new wealth in highly intelligent ways that would quadruple my winnings nearly over night.

You know.

Like when viral traffic is driven to your site after you show lame photos of celebs in compromising situations, or tell completely hilarious stories about what your little kids say about body parts and that sort of thing. *heart you, mel* Okay, so maybe not quite viral. But still.

Then I could be added to the list of the world’s richest people, causing them to look over at me when we are all lined up for our photoshoot and wonder…“How did she get here?”

You’re not falling for this?

Fine.

But here are my pix: In the list of “Boys,” 1) Luke (how he has made it this far is beyond me…) because he is the epitome of what Simon loves to call “cabaret” and reminds me of someone who takes the stage in a decent sized Vegas casino in the afternoon before the real action starts. But he is handsome, so if he isn’t booted off tonight, it’s because he keeps getting the hunkster vote. 2) David Hernandez. He sounds great when he’s on key (I know…), but gets lost in the mix. Well, that is until people found out what his day job used to be. That will probably get him votes since it has nothing to do with singing. Or, I’m thinking some members of the audience were really entertained about his bit on having boogers in his nose during his little pre-singing video on Tuesday.

And for my pix on the “Girls,” 1) Kady. I honestly think the only reason she wasn’t voted off last week is because she looked almost exactly like Alaina who could actually sing. 2) Amanda has to be off. I know it’s nice to keep a rocker around, but the person needs to be able to sing and she’s already got the attention she needed to hook up with a band who needs a lead. Plausible? Nah — I’m just making it all up. But it’s funny watching her not smile, like if you’re a rocker chick, it’s against the rules.

Okay, you heard it here. Place your bets at the door on your way out.

And take a second to admire our sunset this evening. I haven’t seen one quite like this in quite a while, thanks to the RTR who knows his mom loves a colorful sky and yelled from downstairs so that I wouldn’t miss it.

Nice kid, huh?

Okay, okay.

 

So I know the headers are not quite right with the color of the rest of the page. I’m working on it.

I was never fond of the aqua color that is prevalent in the page and have just tolerated it. Quite the exercise for someone like me. Too bad that exercise doesn’t burn calories. And I’m tired of the font, and the “kellementology” thingy above my header which has to be there. I tell yah.

But I will be messing around with the font and colors, so if you don’t like something, by all means, let it rip. I can’t promise I’ll listen to a single thing you say, but it’s free to comment on my blog, yanno? And for a small fee will offer suggestions about how you might bump up your authoritative voice if your aim is to actually get someone to hear you.

I’d be just fine if I could sit up here all night and figure it out. But there are so may have tos, like cooking dinner, and brushing my teeth, and sleeping, and American Noodle. Speaking of which…

…how did you think the guys did last night? Hmmmm? Any favorites? Anybody you think should be voted off the noodle? Do tell! And will the biker type chickster get voted off this week? I’m thinking yes…

Because that’s a whole lot more interesting than discussing what happened in Ohio yesterday. What is up? Could we please get everyone out there to vote? What is so difficult about it? All you have to do is make a mark. Or poke a button. It’s not really challenging. Just make sure it’s for the right person.

 

I’m supposed to be doing a meme and being a good citizen in bloggsville because Francis of Caught in the Stream  annointed me with some fairly lofty honors for which I am very grateful, and am currently planning my attack acceptance speech.

But I couldn’t resist succumbing to the American Noodle magnet and ran up stairs after the show this evening to throw my two cents into the pot for our fresh perspective on the real first night of the season: the one where we really get to take a look at who’s who and who’s not.

So here’s the run down — and there are some rules, because the MoH decided we have an in house ranking system. (Who invited him?) Immediately after each person sings, we each have to assign a number: 1 = Horrible; 4 = Excellent

I know. Rocket Science.

But our votes soon earned the RTR the nickname of “Paul” for Paula (because he likes everybody) and Simon for me (because I actually listen to whether they can sing or not and what a concept that is doncha think?) I’m thinking the MoH just sucks at knowing who can sing and who can’t and just can’t handle it.

Moving right along:

#1 - David Hernandez earned a TWO. He could’ve had a higher score, but he was first, and he screwed up the last few notes. Way to make an impression, dood. But they put him first for a reason you know, and it isn’t to leave him out to dry.

#2 - Chickeze (AKA Jacuzzi thanks to Simon…) Um…I did like the orange suit. I did. But singing on key is important unless you have big hair and can get the tweener vote. So he scored a ONE plus.

#3 - David Cook (are there enough Davids this year? Jeez.) Totally intriguing with one of my favorite songs from the ’60s when I was a very young thing. Loved it, so he scored a FOUR. And no, not just because I liked the song, okay?

#4 - Jason Yeager - I loved Moon River when Andy Williams sang it when I was a kid (you aren’t laughing, are you?), but it was…what does Simon call it? Cabaret. But he’s got a good voice, so I splurged with a THREE. And could someone please tell the guy to not have his son’s hair styled. It’s just wrong.

#5 - Robbie Carrico - This guy sort of reminds me of Bucky from two seasons ago, but can actually sing and has nice teeth instead of Bucky’s teeth. Great song choice (One is the loneliest number…) and could let it rip if he wanted. The tweeners won’t like him, though. Still, he gets a THREE.

 (more…)

Well, it’s been exactly a week since I had the rude awakening of taking my lovely cat, Blackitty, to the vet and having to leave him there. I can say I’m thankful for the passing of time. Very thankful.

Scouring through all the photographs I have of him and putting them together in a digital album that will be printed and bound was very theraputic. Having a gigantic image of him on my monitor also helps because I smile at his loveliness each time I sit down to write. I seem to have developed the practice of cybernose scratching with the mouse arrow which does humor me, but seems completely pathetic. If you’re thinking I’ve crossed over some line and am headed to the nut farm, you’ve probably right. But I’ll be just fine. I don’t have my head permanently buried in the sand…

I’m completely aware that some French guy scammed one of their largest banks to the tune of $7 billion.

And that Dubyah is desperately trying to keep the U.S. presence in Iraq for the next 10 years and wouldn’t that be just great to whomever moves in to clean up the complete mess he’s made of everything over the past seven grueling years.

And that the stock market has been completely nuts and that it is having quite the impact on world economics…

Or that there’s just something wrong with the idea that a young woman can be missing and the police investigating can immediately turn to the umpteen gazillion registered sex offenders who live in her area to find out if they had anything to do with it. *insert disgusted head shaking here*

That American Idol is back, and am I mistaken or is there a new and gentler Simon and much better auditions early on that the crap we were subjected to last year? Thanks to BeckEye of The Pop Eye, my up-to-the-minute source on all things Idol. And if you didn’t click on the American Idol link, you missed her wit — and Simon in undies.

Also, that Atonement, which the MoH and I saw a few weeks ago and were mesmerized by, has been nominated for quite a few Oscars, including best picture. And don’t I just not like film critics — the epitome of “those who can’t act, direct, or produce…criticize.” Can a movie ever really be as good as the book that inspired it? No.

That this famous blogger most likely had her trip to Paradise ruined since we were POUNDED with rain and even hail last night. I hear that even more is due tomorrow. Paradise is fickle like that. And dang. One-hundred seventy-seven comments on a post is amazing. Yah think? I might be able to muster…oh, about 5 if I write about the piece of orzo that just fell between the B and N on my keyboard. No. Wait. I already did that.

And finally, that our favorite hotel in Vegas is trying to burn down…

I’m going to be working in the basement of this blog over the next few days to a week (real Wordpress upgrade, new header, page revisions, and theme…) so thanks ahead of time for your patience. And if you’re completely bored or can’t sleep at night, head on over to & Veracity: My alter ego" target="_blank">my little slice of foodland, because I’ll be pretty busy there over there trying to convince myself I love it as much as I do this one. As much as I know who I am as a cook, I struggle with the part of me that does the writing there. The photography learning curve is a 45 degree angle and my tongue hangs out routinely on that. The settings on the camera, the fact that most of the photos are taken at night, halogen, vs tungsten vs natural light…Jeez. I just want to make the stuff, okay? It is enjoyable, though, even if it’s as time consuming as it is.

I must be doing something right because I actually got my first two — yes, I said TWO — pieces of spam on my other site. In the same amount of time, this one has been hit by 4,318. I’ve also just received & Veracity" target="_blank">my first crappy comment over there. Now, I do have to confess that it had me going until I did a bit of research. The loser who posted the comment is the type of “blogger” (and I hesitate to use the word since I don’t think this particular brand of human can actually get credit for blogging…) who barfs and runs. You know the type. But in this case, the email address that accompanies the post came back immediately when I tried to use it, and the IP address was a dead end. So I looked around Whois, and found out that the whole thing was designed to lead me to a site where a domain was for sale. Whatever. Slime bag. Cockroach. Bottom dwelling mud sucker. I left the comment up and my response if you feel like getting worked up over people who do whatever they can to aggravate the rest of us to make a buck. For all I know, the scum is a neighbor and I’ll see him drive by with a shiny new car and plates similar to the ones I saw at the grocery store the other day that said LINK AD.

Sometimes, life isn’t as kind to the good guys, is it?

Anyhoo, have a swell weekend!

Let’s see…work on my blog, or accept Olga, the Traveling Bra’s challenge to create my very own album cover? That’s a no brainer. Tah-dahhhhhh….

Okay, so Juan Villafuerte doesn’t exactly sound like a band, but I suppose it could be. You know, like Jethro Tull. And the title of the album (do they still call them that?) is from the end of a quotation from “Song of Myself” by Walt Whitman:

“Do I contradict myself?

Very well then, I contradict myself,

(I am very large, I contain multitudes.)”

Hmmm…Whitman perplexes me sometimes. Deep fellow.

 (more…)

Tuesdays haven’t exactly been my favorite day of the week. That probably isn’t news to anyone, because they most likely will agree — unless they’re hopeless optimists and dupe themselves into the “well, we’re one more day closer to the weekend” game.

The only thing Tuesday really has going for it is that it’s a day to celebrate that everyone survived Monday. Barely. Tuesday used to be close to having a glimmer of fame recently because we media bottom dwellers all waited, roped into submission, expectantly wondering how the remaining contestants would faire on American Noodle. But alas, it no longer matters. We’re down to the nubbins on the show with only two final contestants getting ready to sing tonight. Yes, my butt will be on the sofa, and I’ll be watching and listening — but it’s a toss up as to who actually gets the most tweener votes — Blake or Jordin — Jordin or Blake. Eenie, meenie, miney, moe… Hopefully, the show will be entertaining. Maybe I’ll keep a tally on how many nebulous adjectives Paula uses, or how many times Simon rolls his eyes. Yah. That would be news. But hey! There’s always the Coke commercial, right?

Tuesday is a day to weigh-in, too, but I’m putting that off until tomorrow because I forgot to pack the orange stickies that grace my bathroom mirror for our weekend get away. Good thing, because with the lighting in the Stage Coach Inn, I wouldn’t have been able to see them anyway. Does “orange-streaked make-up on her face” get the point across effectively? Lovely. So we’ll deal with my on-going scale saga tomorrow. Wednesday’s a better day of the week anyway. Don’t you think? Half way there, and all that crap? I’m not sure about half way to what, but still. It’s more optimistic. See?

So I’m going to take care of a few responsibilities today since there’s no reason to leave the house. The sky is STILL grey, so what’s the point? Instead, I’ll:

• Finish that Daring Baker’s Challenge. Yes. Finish. It’s in the freezer because I had to go to Monterey and couldn’t finish. I can’t tell you what I’m making because it’s a secret until we all (45+ of us) finish and post our entries. Check it out on this Sunday. I guarantee your eyeballs will pop out. Does 400 points on Weight Watchers create an effective image for you?
• Yell obscenities at my monitor. Finish up a couple of projects I’ve started on Photoshop. I’m really trying to love Photoshop, but it’s really challenging. It’s not the warm and fuzzy software I’d like it to be. I’m sure I’ll get over it, but not until I’ve thrown my monitor out the window a few times.
• Temp fate again. Avoid the transfer of the photos from my hard drive onto an external hard drive so I don’t lose them like I did the last five years’ worth. Yes. There’s a sign on my forehead that says “STOOPID.” And you don’t have to tell me that from what you’ve seen, the photos aren’t much to lose anyway, right? Sheesh.
• Write a letter sounding like it came from a sane person. I feel compelled to question why the health insurance I applied for was accepted, but for a higher premium (for me alone)because my “endometriosis treated with complete hysterectomy” is considered a risk factor and I have to be “sign, symptom, and treatment free for six months” before I can reapply for the original coverage I applied for. You know — I could be wrong, but, after you’ve had organs removed, aren’t things just a tad different? And what the hell is “treatment?” I don’t even take aspirin. I did see that Moore has another movie at the Cannes film festival — this one on the health system here in the USA…Goodness knows there shouldn’t be much to slam there, right?
• Clean the microwave. Teaching the RT to do it would take way too long. Way. I’d like to say that this trusty appliance is coated with remnants of bernaise sauce, or mushrooms sauteed in green garlic and white truffle oil, but no. By the looks of it, the RT would need a hammer and chisel to extract various frozen burrito droppings and pizza explosions that have accumulated over the past week, and that now vaguely resemble a brown mass of volcanic material. No, a bit of baking soda won’t help this one. Or a warm cucumber…Huh? Ahem… I’m thinking Draino might do the trick. I will don my goggles before attempting this at home. Your microwave is clean, right? You don’t have a teenager yet? Feh.
  
  Microsludge
• Grill the RT about The Geometry Teacher’s class. The year is drawing to a close, and there’s still a question about whether he’ll squeak by with even a “C.” He’s been going to tutoring after school — free — and provided by older kids who actually like math, and who have survived The Geometry Teacher’s class. Although I’ve been tempted to sneak down there to see if he’s really going to the library to get help, I’ve successfully resisted. Chalk it up to another life lesson for him. When the hoops are placed in front of you, even if you don’t like them, don’t want them, or don’t think there’s a pot of gold at the end of them, you still have to act like you’re interested in jumping through them. Otherwise, they multiply like rabbits. After all — everyone needs The Geometry Teacher’s content in their lives and careers, right?
• Erase old DVR’d shows. Since I haven’t watched daytime TV in a few months now, I really should get rid of the 900 reruns of What Not to Wear. Sorry Stacy and Clinton. I love you, but I have far too many things on my list to confirm that I would be a great candidate for your show.

   Ohhhhhh… Tuesday, dear Tuesday, I love yah, ol’ Tuesday, you’re always a week away…..