Monthly Archives: January 2012

What’s in a name? Hell if I know.

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I have a serious case of the blahs today. Don’t you hate it when that happens?

I do have some stuff going on, but really, when is there not something happening. That’s how life goes. I am generally a positive person, so I’ve already tried my usual tactics to banish blah-dom. I worked out, still in a bad mood. Tried playing with my dogs, but they don’t want to play – they want to sleep, lazy mutts. Still, I figured maybe they were on to something and took a short nap. I woke up in a worse mood.

And for the record, I don’t have PMS.

And yet, I can’t shake my mood. Actually, it’s progressed to all out bitchiness.

Part of my problem is that I decided last night the character’s name in the new book I’m working on sucks (For those of you that read Human Resources, Martinis, and Other Bad Things, don’t worry, there is another Delores Dingo book – the first draft is done, I haven’t begun editing yet. Oh, and if you haven’t read it then get with the program. Check out the Book and News page), and every alternate name I’ve come up with is equally bad.

This is not good. I need to know what her name is, dammit. The book is halfway done, and changing her name might change the outcome (probably not, but you never know). Also, I’ve become convinced I will only be able to banish the bitch by finding the perfect name.

It isn’t going well. I already stayed up half the night trying to come up with something. This morning I stood in front of my bookcases and pondered. Nothing. Each name was worse than the last.

So what am I to do? That’s when it hit me. There must be a random name generator online. Why wouldn’t there be? We live in a world where Greg from Dogs on Drugs found multiple images of penis-shaped chia pets for everyone’s amusement, all in a matter of seconds (which I mention because ever since, several times a week the search term ‘dick-shaped chia’ leads some unwitting person to my blog – I can’t decide if that’s good or bad).

Of course, there is a site, several, actually. I went with the first thing I found that Norton told me wasn’t going to make my computer explode, Kleimo.com. You can chose whether you want a male or female name, and they have an obscurity level (this is why I decided to use the site, I like the idea of setting an obscurity level. I need one of those – seems like something good to bring with you to the grocery store), which is on a scale of 1 to 99 – one being Jane and 99 being Zuhumarhatu. I set it to female, level 45. Here’s what it gave me:

1. Sheridan Loeffelholz
2. Cristina
3. Ailene Langen
4. Providencia Patee
5. Danyel Blaum
6. Breann Nedrow
7. Pickerill
8. Argelia Josselyn
9. Johna Crapps
10. Kearby

I took one look at the set of names above and thought, ummm, no – I am not feeling any of these. So I set the obscurity level to 25 instead, and kleimo yielded these gems:

1. Bertie Sobus
2. Libby Hoston
3. Felecia Yoshimura
4. Leta Buckelew
5. Barren
6. Alyson Caplan
7. Reyna Litman
8. Helga Deskin
9. Lolita Agramonte
10. Leeann Brauner

Cristina!

Waaa? Bertie Sobus? How is that a female name? That makes me think of a little bald dude that works in a deli and smells like cold cuts. And #5?  Honestly, wouldn’t you wonder if your parents were sending you a message? And notice Barren, much like Cristina in the first set, has no last name. Are these names so amazing that they fall into the same category as Cher or Madonna? Well, technically Cristina does, I guess. If you live in Latin America anyway. Or watch Telemundo. She’s like Oprah, but blond.

Clearly I haven’t come up with anything to my liking, but my mind has moved on to other topics now – such as how do you name a real live person? I can’t even name a fake person. Both my dogs were around for a day or two before I settled on something suitable. I’m just not good at bestowing something permanent on someone. What if they don’t like it? What if it shapes their personality in a negative way? Obviously too much thought has been put into this, but still…

I actually had no name at first, so maybe that’s the reason I’m naming deficient? No, really, I didn’t. I was supposed to have a name – Joshua. That’s right, ‘lil Vesta turned out to be a she instead of a he (and all of you can keep your jokes to yo’self, thanks very much). So at first everyone was stumped, since Joshuetta was probably not going to go over well. Anyway, it took a day or so for my parents to sort it out.

I have no kids, but I am convinced that were I to pop one out, I’d have to see him or her first before I could decide on a name.

All this has done nothing to help me re-name my character, but surprisingly it did get rid of my shitty mood. So thanks for nothing on actually generating usable names, Kleimo, but you do a mighty fine job of bucking up someone’s spirits.

* I did not get paid to write about Kleimo. I’d never heard of it until today, and if they had paid me, they would probably want their money back. Jerks.

Monday, no clever post here.

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So I’m on the phone with my mom, and the conversation somehow turned to my blog.

Mom: I don’t like that picture.

Me: Which picture? (we were talking about my husband’s root canal, so I thought she was referencing the cocktail photo)

Mom: The one of that doll! It’s gory!

(At first I thought she meant the mannequin – but no, she meant the blowup doll. I assumed she was referring to the photo of the doll crumpled up, which led to me reiterate why I didn’t throw her away. Apparently my mom had not read that post, and was horrified. Finally I determined the photo she was referring to is the header of my blog.)

Mom: I mean, you look pretty (because all mothers, no matter what, think their daughters are pretty. I think it’s an evolutionary thing. You know, maybe back in prehistoric times if a mother thought her baby was ugly, then she’d abandon it. Which makes it sound like ancient hominids were super shallow, but who knows? Maybe they were. Anyway, perhaps evolution made mommas blind to their babies. I could have a uniboob and an extra nose on my forehead and my mom would still think I’m pretty, even when seated next to a sex toy. I totally love how my mom tried to temper her criticism of the picture by throwing a bone to my vanity), but that doll looks…gory. And his facial expression while he’s looking at it…I just don’t like it (he being my husband).

Now I’m confused – why is the doll gory?

What is the point of today’s post? Nothing, except my mom indirectly let me know she doesn’t appear much in my blog. So here you go momma.

You are welcome.

On an unrelated but equally pointless note, remember The Cars? iTunes is on shuffle, and this just came on – when I was a little girl, this was my absolute favorite band. I thought I was going to marry Ric Ocasek. I’m not sure if it’s just bad sound, but it looks like Benjamin Orr is doing a really crappy job of lip synching:

Who did you guys think you would marry when you were kids?

It’s Cocktail Time – The dodging sh*t edition!

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Lovely Pasadena

 

I love living in Pasadena. It’s gorgeous, quiet, scenic, close to the mountains, and nice but with none of the bougie-ness found in other parts of Los Angeles. In a nutshell, it’s perfect. You would never, ever know you are a 15 minute drive from this:

Downtown Los Angeles choking on smog

Plus, there are parrots.

I had lived here a few months when I first discovered the parrots while walking through a nearby neighborhood. I rounded a corner, heard a cacophony of cawing, and looked up to find several dozen green parrots in a tree. I stood there a moment, trying to figure out why there were parrots, and could come up with no good reason (the speculation is that they are descendants of parrots released from a pet emporium that caught fire in 1959). I went home and told my husband about how weird it was, and his response was something along the lines of , “um-hmmmm hrmp”. He really didn’t care. I, on the other hand, am fascinated by this oddity. I only run into them once every few months, and whenever it happens I always stop to watch.

Like today.

Now that I know what they sound like, when I hear them I get super excited. So today I’m speed walking along, and low and behold, the sounds of tropical birds filled my ears. When I got to the tree they were in, I stopped per my usual. Today there were more gathered in one place than I’ve ever seen. Seriously, there were about 40 or 50 of those suckers, and they were loud.

I’m standing there, in my pink running shorts and camouflage sweatshirt, mouth hanging open, staring at the birds. I don’t know if something spooked them, or they just got tired of my oogling, or what, but out of nowhere all of them started beating their wings, and seconds later they were flying overhead. I was still standing there like a reject thinking it was totally cool when the first blob of liquefied shit hit the ground a few feet away. I looked down, and all of a sudden, plop plop plop.

So I did what any moron would do. I crouched down in a semi-fetal position, all Tipi Hedren-esque, except without the chic-ness and cute haircut. I am sure the person that drove by in the Prius laughed his or her ass off. Amazingly, not one bird shit on me, and it certainly wasn’t for lack of trying.

 

Today was a good day, therefore I am rewarding myself with a cocktail.

The Lightweight

• ½ oz Woodford Reserve
• ½ oz Campari
• Ginger ale or club soda, whichever you prefer

I’m not sure if I’ve mentioned this, but typically when I make Friday cocktails with the proper proportions, I take a sip and pass it off to my husband because I am a lightweight, then I make myself a smaller version. I simply can’t hang anymore. This drink, however, is all for me, hence the lesser amount of liquor involved – plus, a little Campari goes a looooong way.

Enjoy, and may no birds poo on you this weekend. Happy Friday y’all!

From serious stuff to shallow fluff.

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Yesterday’s post prompted so many awesome comments, I feel like I got schooled, and I freaking love it when that happens!

Serious time, however, is not happening today, mostly because I’m preoccupied with Kate Beckinsale’s hair. I’m sure there’s a message somewhere in that statement, but damned if I know what it is….

Anyway.

I am a movie lover, but I am picky. You can keep your rom-coms, your Farrelly brother’s comedies, and I don’t bother with sappy flicks either. If I want something mindless, give me a good bad action movie. And if it has vampires or some other nonsense, all the better. So today a friend and I went to see Underworld: Awakening.

So. Bad. And yet so good for how freaking bad it was.

Now, I find my mindset when watching a bad action flick with a male star is different than when there is a female lead. It’s sort of similar to my mindset during the few times I’ve watched porn – logic and curiosity kick in, causing me to ponder things.

For example –

*How freaking sweaty must Kate be underneath all that PVC? Holy crap, it’s tight, and she’s running, and it must be thick since it doesn’t look like her pants are going to rip. But then again, she doesn’t really bend over, so maybe the fear of ripping is very real to whoever did the costumes.

*If she’s a vampire, why is she always grabbing a coat? Vampires are dead, dude, they don’t get cold. I guess she could be doing it solely for the fashion, but her official job title in the movies is ‘Death Dealer’. Why would a death dealer care about fashion?

*If she’s a vampire, why does it look like she has Bumble and Bumble Surf Spray in her hair. She’d dead, why so many hair products?

*Only a beautiful vampire woman can make chapped lips look sexy. I would guess she’s dehydrated since blood is salty.

 

Seriously, what exactly is she wearing?

*I have no idea whether or not Kate Beckinsale has had plastic surgery, but clearly she has not botoxed her face to an expressionless blob. That makes me happy, because so many actresses do this nowadays. You need to be able to make facial expressions, you’re an actor. Plus, it wouldn’t have been the same without her patented Death Dealer face.

There are actually many other problems in the movie (obviously), but in case you want to see it, I’ll leave the rest alone. Also, if you are a woman and you’re thinking the Underworld movies are geared towards dudes who want to see Kate Beckinsale in leather, and possibly naked (by the way, menfolk, not in this movie – sorry to burst your bubble), there is plenty for the ladies in the fourth installment. Damned if I know why, but they found as many hot dudes as possible, acting may or may not necessarily have been a requirement (let’s blame it on bad direction, shall we?). Exhibits A, B, and C.

Sexy vampire just raring to defend his race from extinction.

And for my Canadian homies - Super werewolf

Hot detective with a heart of gold.

Also, WordPress is screwing with me today, so all my pics are different sizes, and I’m too lazy to figure it out right now. I hate it when I update stuff and everything changes.