Thanksgiving Flicks

Ahhhh... the joys of being a grown-up. This marks the first year that I am hosting Thanksgiving at my house. Granted, 98 % of the cooking is still relegated to my mother... but that is what she gets for being such a damn fine cook! The folks roll in to town around noon tomorrow with Candace coming in later in the evening.



Thanksgiving is all about food, family and reflecting on all the things you are blessed with in your life. It is also the time of your father commandeering the remote to watch football, the pug (aka my little sister) acting like a spaz because she is in a new environment and your mom running the kitchen tighter than your drill sergeant ran a formation. Every family has their quirks. They may drive you a little batty but that is what you love them for.



To help you get in to the holiday spirit and to make you realize that your family isn't the only one who puts that proverbial fun in dysfunctional, here is my list of fave Thanksgiving movies:



5.) The Myth of Fingerprints - a tense family gathering where a dark secret is revealed. You will think your dad is a saint after seeing this one.












4.) The Ice Storm - Moody, dark period piece set in the 70s. Covet the cool clothes and sets while (once again) reveling in the fact that your parents are actually kind of normal in comparison.

3.) Pieces of April - What is up with Katie Holmes and Thanksgiving movies? (she also stars in The Ice Storm) Pre-Mrs. Tom Cruise, Holmes managed to charm as a quirky rebel trying to throw the perfect Thanksgiving for her estranged family. Excellent movie that strikes a good balance between humor and sappy Hallmark moments.

2.) The House of Yes - One of those movies that is so strange, you don't know if you love it or hate it... but you will talk about it for days. Tori Spelling, incest and JFK assassination re-enactments all rolled up in one dark, odd, sick, twisted and hysterical package.

1.) Home for the Holidays - Funny as hell, oddball characters and Robert Downey Jr. Need I say more?

What Are You Thankful For?

I am thankful for much this holiday weekend, including:

A new President!

Technology. I have no idea what I would do without my cell phone, ipods (yes that's plural), and laptop. I am still not sure if that is a good thing or bad thing.

Good TV: Bones, How I Met Your Mother, Supernatural, and Doctor Who are all appointment TV for me. I.E. why I ignore your phone calls during those hours. They keep me entertained, make me think without being gimmicky (I am looking at you Heroes), and have some hot damn men to look at!




Even Better Music: Lately I have rediscovered old favorites (pick up Annie Lennox's new album now!) like Aretha Franklin, The Pretenders, and Patsy Cline, heard some great debuts (Adele, Duffy), and discovered established artists for the first time (Turin Brakes, Powderfinger, Fergie). Outside of the American Idol rejects pale imitations of music, it was a pretty damn good year.



Roadtripper and I's Island Men. Need I really say more?

The slow resurgence of decent fashion that embraces women with curves (and doesn't look like my closet from 1986)!

The slow but steady process to truly learn and love myself I am on.

Family and friends. Thank you to all of the old ones for putting up with me and listening to my endless ramblings and thank you to the new ones (shout out CKD!) who I am just getting to know. You all make life the insane, frustrating, utterly brilliant ride it is.



Remember, no matter how crappy the economy, or dim the current view seems to be, there is always reason to be thankful. Take a deep breath of the cool fall air, look around you and say thanks to whatever it is you believe in.

Welcome to the Island: Sean Bean

Men in Uniform: you know the old saying: no one can resist a man in uniform. And considering the fact that I am in the Navy and the Summer White Uniform looks damn good on E-7 and above, I am not one to protest too much. Especially when the first glimpse of Sean Bean was when he starred in Sharpe's Rifles. It was a little seen series (on the BBC (PBS) that he starred in and where he first got my motor running. Maybe it was the fact that he rose through the enlisted ranks or that he never forgot where he came from. Hell, it was because he looked so damn fine whether he was Sharpe, the enemy in a Bond film, or Odysseus in Troy, he made anything look good. He was my very first crush. He can storm my castle, ranks, or damn well anything he pleases anytime. He is mine, however you call it. Welcome to the Island, Sean. Consider yourself in my personal Infantry for the time being.

My 30 Things

A little (or a lot) on the late side, here is my list of 30 things. I am closing in on 30 as well and there is still much I would like to accomplish. Much I also thought I would have accomplished by now but hey no regrets right? Anyhoo, on to the show, with commentary:

1. Try not to over think everything so much, or be so hard on myself. (it is part of the reason this list is so late)
2. Go see an Indianapolis Colts game at Lucas Oil Stadium (while Manning is still the QB)
3. Go to Arizona to see Amy and Jeff
4. Take ballroom dancing lessons
5. Go back to the UK and go back to my old haunts and discover some new ones
6. Finally get the cajones to get a tattoo
7. Go skydiving again
8. Take a ride in a nice limo
9. Get/find a Euchre group to play regularly
10. Take a photography class and develop my skills more (love taking photos but have never taken the time to get a great camera or put a portfolio together)
11. Get up early, watch the sunrise from a beautiful spot and watch sunset from another great spot.
12. Go go karting
13. Find more places (less excuses) to wear those cute LBDs I have
14. Go to the Kentucky Derby and drink mint julips all day (or the Oaks, its a day before derby and is the cool race/party for all of the "locals")
15. Go ghost hunting! (my parents do this as a hobby and have been to some pretty cool places)
16. See Bruce Springsteen in concert
17. See the Stones in concert (they are bound to start breaking hips eventually!)
18. Show up at a guys place in heels and a trench coat and nothing else (the hard part in this {no pun intended} is finding a guy worthy)
19. Go do some more bad karaoke (of course, if I am singing it will always be bad)
20. Go to ComicCon
21. Learn to say No every once in a while
22. Take a cooking class or two
23. Go to the Beatles Fest for Fans in Chicago (what can I say, can you tell I am a geek yet?)
24. Run a half marathon (I keep telling myself I will do it, and one of these days I will damnit!)
25. Start writing a book out of the whacked out dreams I have
26. Go a Purdue Homecoming and be one of those annoying Alumni with Roadtripper (esp. since I now know why the Purdue Police called me the other day)
27. Go to Alabama to see my Uncle John and family (I see much travel in my future, no?)
28. Buy a damn DVR already!
29. Buy a real Christmas tree one year (cause I have never had a real tree)
30. Visit Andrea's grave again

My Next Boyfriend Part 2 (Electric Boogaloo!)

After hearing the news that President-elect Obama is kind of a picky eater, I decided to update my list of what my next boyfriend will be.

My next boyfriend will NOT be a picky eater!!!!!

I hate men who are picky eaters yet I always seem to end up with them. They are no fun to go out to eat with. And forget about cooking for them!

My ex-husband wouldn't touch seafood. There he sat at some of the finest seafood joints the West Coast had to offer... eating steak. He couldn't even get that one right because he ordered it well done. Ugh! Why not just chew on a leather shoe?

My live-in ex-boyfriend had issues with his food touching. He would order Chinese food but eat the rice separately. I once bought him one of those plates for little kids with the separate compartments. My joke went awry when he actually started using it.

My favorite was a guy that I once went on a date with to a Mexican restaurant. I noticed he barely touched his meal so I asked if everything tasted okay. He said that he was upset about his choice of a chicken and cheese quesadilla. What were all these pesky peppers and onions doing in it? His bright idea was that is should have been advertised as a chicken, cheese, onion and pepper quesadilla. False advertising, dammit!

Did I mention that was our first and only date?

I am not a picky eater (the size of my hips can attest to this) so men who freak out about food perplex me. I am not fond of either carrot cake or mustard. But if I were a guest at some one's house who served mustard braised chicken followed by carrot cake for desert, I could manage. I will try anything once. Bad Wolf and I once went on a culinary binge at a street fair where we sampled everything from Polish food to cow brain burgers. Desert? Chocolate covered grasshoppers.

Well, except for pickles. Those things are just nasty! If one even touches my sandwich, I consider it tainted. Try as I might to get over this, I still retch at the mere smell of a pickle.

*** I have to give a shout-out to CKD for dredging up the memory of Breakin' 2: Electric Boogaloo from the dark recesses of my mind. Thanks to you, anything second in a series will now be referred to as Electic Boogaloo!

City Mouse In The Country

I adore my new town. There is relatively no traffic (although I do find myself yelling at the slow drivers. Hellloooo... I have to have something to road rage about!) It is a picturesque town with easy access to the ocean and the White Oak River. It has beautiful sunrises and sunsets. I am constantly amazed when people chit-chat in the stores. When I lived in the DC area, I could conduct a purchase of a loaded grocery cart without the cashier even bothering to grunt out a hello. People here talk about everything from the weather to family to what was on TV last night. It is a very relaxed and charming change of pace for me.

Having said that, there are things in this town of just over 900 residents that make me laugh. I once had a Taco Bell craving at about 9:15 PM so I jumped in my car for the quick drive only to discover that it was closed. How the hell can you have the so-called "4th Meal" when it closes at 9 PM!!?!?! The streets definitely roll up early around here.

The best is this conversation I overheard Walgreens:

Little old lady: Do you sell milk here?

Clerk: Yes, ma'am. Lowest price in town.

Heh! Too bad "in town" consists of Walgreens, Lowes Food grocery store and two gas stations! Not a great deal of competition.

Play Free Bird, Man!

Here is the latest addition to my tattoo collection. Upon hearing the news, my mom sighed heavily and started praying that her daughter wasn't headed towards circus life as the amazing tattooed lady. (In my defense, I only have 4!) Since mom is already exasperated with me, I can't post a picture of just where it is on my body since it would require me to be in my bra (right ribcage so just use your imagination).

So... what does it represent? It is my very own free bird. In honor of my 30th birthday, I decided that a bird taking flight would be indicative of me embracing this new decade. That's right... the girl who vowed to spend her 30th birthday curled up in the fetal position, drinking vodka and ignoring her "well-wishing" friends' phone calls has now turned coat and is relishing her 30s.

Mom just wishes that I had chosen a less permanent way to celebrate!

Welcome To The Island: Dennis Miller

Mom always said that good looks will only get you so far; it is much better to have someone with whom you can discuss the morning paper with over breakfast. Smart = sexy. But smart + funny as hell = my eternal devotion. Enter Dennis Miller. I have had a secret crush on him for years. I love his old stand-up routines, even though I have to break out a dictionary to decipher half of what he is saying. I even tuned in for his disastrous run as a commentator on Monday Night Football (anyone who knows me can attest to my hatred of the sport) just so I could get snippets of his razor sharp wit and see that wicked smile.




His recent turn as a wack-job right wing news commentator definitely tests my devotion. Dennis Miller still cracks me up though, and I would love to see what discussions we would have over the morning paper. Welcome to the island, Dennis!

Welcome to the Island: Tim Roth

Not everyone on our island is as classically pretty as many our recent posts may suggest. They don't have to have six packs or know six ways to kill someone. There are certain men who strike our fancy for no obvious reason. So maybe it's the nose, maybe its the accent (that definitely helps), or maybe it's the fact that it was in the classic Reservoir Dogs that I first saw him: Tim Roth:



Whatever reason it is, I find him incredibly hot. And hey, I've seen Rob Roy and still find him sexy. That is no easy feat.



So welcome to the island Tim Roth, I'll be your honey bunny anytime.

Have you Hugged A Veteran Today?

Roadtripper has been having computer issues lately, so on behalf of the both of us I wish you all a happy Veteran's Day. It is not only a day off for most federal and state employees, it is a day to remember the reason why most of us got to sleep in today. It is for the long days, weeks, months, and occasionally years that our fighting men and women go without seeing their loved ones to serve a greater cause. Whether you believe in that cause or not, they often do. and even if they don't they do it without (much) complaint. So on behalf of two veterans (one still serving), go hug (or kiss, or shag) a veteran, they deserve it.

And go Navy beat Army!!

30 Things

My first social networking site wasn't Facebook or even Myspace. I used to belong to the online community 43 Things. The initial concept was simple: you listed 43 things that you wanted to do in your life. These goals could be lofty (I want to walk on the moon), frivolous (I want to get a weekly pedicure) or mundane (I want to clean out my garage). The whole concept appealed to my love of making lists while giving me time to reflect on what the hell I wanted to do in life.



Like most good things, 43 Things became too much of a good thing. Users were encouraged to give in depth explanations of their goals. Other people could comment and offer advice or encouragement. Then came all those "cheers" you could give to people. Keeping up with cheers was more intensive than keeping up with all my Facebook applications. Then came the sister sites 43 Places and 43 People... I waved the white flag.

Still, I miss having a list of things I want to do in my life. Until I realized, hey, I have a worthless blog that I can spout of my goals on! No cheers to keep up with; just the comments from my beloved readers.

And to hell with 43. Since I turned 30 this year, I am sticking with that number. Plus... it is Saturday afternoon and I am feeling lazy.

30 Things I want to do:

1. go horseback riding (how does one make it to their 30th birthday without ever doing this?)

2. have a signature dish (frozen pizza from the box doesn't count)

3. find that "sweatsuit alternative" that Tim Gunn keeps talking about

4. convince Bad Wolf, Blonde Bomb and CKD to go to Ireland for vacation (just think of those accents, ladies!)

5. find an antique cameo ring (to replace the one my shithead cousin stole after my aunt died)

6. learn how to play chess

7. find a place where everyone knows my name (a la Cheers!)

8. quit expecting the worst from people

9. visit Andrea's grave

10. learn all the lyrics to "We Didn't Start The Fire" (you never know when this might come in handy)

11. practice yoga regularly (regularly being the key word here)

12. go to a Purdue Alumni function (aka be one of those annoying people that roll around West Lafayette drunk out of their mind, reminiscing about "the old days" that really weren't that great)

13. wear my pearls more often

14. go skydiving again

15. actually keep a houseplant alive (hellooooo... cactus-killer here)

16. figure out how to wear one of those trendy scarves

17. write more bad poetry

18. take all those clothes that don't quite fit right to a tailor

19. go to the movies by myself

20. quit fighting with my snooze button

21. write thank you notes on spiffy stationary

22. turn my home office in to an actual home office instead of a junk room

23. find out if cruises are a great vacation or just floating hell on earth

24. watch the Godfather trilogy

25. score the perfect Little Black Dress

26. never be "the other woman" again

27. download audio books to my Ipod and listen to that on my work commute (instead of screaming at slow drivers)

28. find a sexy guy with a sexy motorcycle

29. send my all my friends flowers at work and sign the card as their secret admirer (because what girl doesn't like flowers at work? And, since guys never send them, friends should just pick up the slack)

30. cover up that tattoo on my back (so people can quit asking what "that big black circle" is)

Oh... Just Go Get A Room (In The White House!)

I swear, President-Elect and Future First Lady Obama (felt so good typing that!) are just too damn cute. I actually choked up a little bit at the genuineness of his thanks to "my best friend for the last sixteen years, the rock of our family and the love of my life". Awwww! Can these two get any more adorable? I am going to go in to sugar shock after 4 (or 8, fingers crossed) years of this.

Welcome to the Island: Jason Statham

Just like Roadtripper, I too have a not so secret thing for Brits, especially those who can kick some ass. So when she brought up the idea but said Daniel Craig was taken, I had no problem coming up with many names to choose from. I was this close to going with Sean Bean (he's had me since Sharpe's Rifles) but then I saw this sent to me courtesy of Roadtripper:



Yowza! I see your bathing beauty shot Roadtripper and raise you that! Only a body like that could have me sitting through The Transporter. But I gladly will if it means I get to see Jason Statham kicking ass, taking names, and doing it all with a rough British accent.

And because you can never have too many shirtless pics of him:

Welcome To The Island: Daniel Craig

Sure, I'll play your silly little game and call you Mr. Bond.

I love action movies. Actually, rewind... I like action movies with sexy, British guys in them. I would much rather watch James Bond charm the pants off a woman and sip a martini than some guy killing everyone in the room with his mere pinky finger. The accent just makes it so much classier, no?

I never thought anyone would replace Sean Connery as the sexiest Bond. Then along came Daniel Craig. "A blonde Bond?!?" everyone screamed. Then he had to go show all the haters that sometimes blondes really do have more fun... or at least more women swooning. Need more proof? I present Exhibit A: The Bathing Suit scene

Ursula Andress no longer holds the patent on sexiest Bond bathing suit moment

Turning Men To Stone Since 1978

My Halloween costume came about rather randomly this year. I had ordered a flapper costume online. Since my only sizing options were "One Size Fits Most" or 1X, I thought it would be a good move to chose the 1X option and give myself a little breathing room. Bad decision! The costume arrived three days before Halloween and was so large that me, Bad Wolf and a third person could have fit in it. I frantically dug through my closet for other options. Had the hat and boots for a cowgirl costume but my only denim skirt is more of the pencil variety and doesn't exactly scream Hee Haw. I have a kick ass Japanese dress that I have been dying to wear but the costume wouldn't have been complete without a little geisha girl wig. Roadtripper + wig = a night of hot, sweaty hell.

I rushed out to the costume store on Halloween day on my lunch break. My only criteria were 1.) no wigs and 2.) must cover my ass, thus eliminating every naughty nun/slutty cheerleader costume.

The end result? Medusa! Yeah. Turn 'em all to stone because that just reflects my current sentiment to most of humanity these days... well, at least the male population.

Armed with spiral rollers (ha ha! snakes... get it?) and tons of hairspray to cajole my stick straight locks in to staying put, I made it work in a last minute way that Tim Gunn would have been proud of. Check out the 'do:



I can't seem to find a full-length picture of me in the costume... so here is one of a very happy and drunk Medusa instead.

Get Your Vote On!

By now, most people have decided who they are voting for (or if they are even going to vote at all.) I love Election Day. My inner political science nerd thinks the whole electoral process is fascinating. Being a veteran makes me appreciate that it is a chance to pick your commander-in-chief (and, in a way, your own boss! Who else can say that?)

Which ever side of the fence you sit on, take a moment to check out this (bi-partisan) clip. It is catchy as hell, and I guarantee you will be singing it while waiting in line at the polls tomorrow.




Thanks to all the voters out there (yeah, yeah... even you insane McCain-Palin supporters!) We may not see eye to eye on every issue but all of us want to see this great country become even greater.

Bad Wolf Didn't Disappear She's Just Been Masquerading as Scully!

Yeah, its a little late, but as Roadtripper has already explained it takes a lot longer to recover from nights of debauchery than it used to. ;) And I realized it had been a bit and I should probably find something to post. I thought hey! I could post my costume pic from Halloween. In case you don't get it, I went as Agent Scully from the X-Files (best show ever). It was last minute and easy to put together. Check out the breasts on the second pic!

My Next Boyfriend...

Today I read an interesting article on one of my favorite blogs. The gist of the article was to list things that you expect from your future boyfriend by using the bad behavior of past boyfriends. Things like "my next boyfriend is not going to have children" or "will be emotionally available."

** Must be popular... they updated their list**

Ha! Amateurs!

Here's my stab at it:

My next boyfriend...

- will not be so moody as to have mental breakdowns and threaten to commit suicide. (Looking at you, ex-Mr. Roadtripper)

- will know who the US fought in World War II. (Sorry, Joe, but the correct answer is not England. And... no... Hitler still isn't British, you dumb ass!)

- will be able to address problems in the relationship directly and not have to resort to talking through your cat. (And I still think Fleabag is a idiotic name for a feline, Eric Version 1.0)

- will not have to resort to telling war stories about killing people in order to make up for certain... ahem... inadequacies. (Worst pillow talk EVER, L)

- will not secretly try on my dresses and take pictures when I am not home (Sorry to call you out J/R but that one still stings a little bit!)

- will not freak out at the mere sight of a tampon, throw it on the ground in front of our white-water rafting group and shout "I'm not gonna carry your fucking tampons!" (Eric Version 3.0)

- will come up with a better name for his nether regions than his "junk". (Looking at you again, Eric Version 3.0. Note to self: stop dating guys named Eric)

- will not already have a girlfriend who lives in California who he is planning to move across the country to live with him. (Did you really think you were that slick, Maj. Pain?)

Zen And The Art Of Beach Jogging

After tying one on a little too heavily on Halloween and spending all day Saturday on the couch recovering (why is a 30 year old even trying to keep up with Marines in their early 20s?), I made a resolution to do something constructive this Sunday. Give the old homestead a cleaning: check. Laundry: yup. Pay bills: complete. Back up hard drive: done. Catch up on all the TV shows stacking up in my DVR: mission accomplished... other than Survivor. I just can't get in to this season.

All that hard work resulted in me having a massive Taco Bell craving. I tried to ignore it but the demand for processed spicy chicken and Fire sauce could not be suppressed. "Fine," I bartered with myself "but only after a jog." I drug my lazy ass across the bridge to Emerald Isle and parked at the closest public beach access before I could talk myself out of it.

Damn if it wasn't the best thing I did all weekend. Weather was perfect, mid-60s with little wind. It was right at 5 PM so the sun was starting its descent. No Ipod necessary when I have a symphony of waves and seagulls. This shit beats running on a treadmill in a crowded gym any day.

All my talk about moving here so I could be close to the beach, and yet I really haven't been taking full advantage of it. This week's goal is to get out there as much as possible, even if it is for a quick walk after work.

And, yes, I still indulged in greasy, nasty Taco Bell. And it was good!

Palin Gets Punk'd

A Quebec radio station managed to convince Gov. Palin's camp that she was actually receiving a call from French president Nicolas Sarkozy... and Palin fell for it! This is one of the funniest things I have heard all year. Not only does it further prove Palin's idiocy but I am suspecting a little Sarkozy crush on Palin's part. Sorry, Sarah, but your Guns & Ammo Barbie act probably wouldn't hold up against his French supermodel/pop star wife.