Cat’s Skydiving Voodoo

It’s like Christmas! In July!

You know how sometimes you come across something from your past that you had ALMOST forgotten about? And you look at it and memories come flooding back, pounding over you like waves, and you are almost completely overwhelmed, simply drowning in nostalgia? And you maybe even tear up a bit? From the memories? And the sweetness? And because you’re a big baby? Do you?! Huh?!

Well, it was one of those days. TGIM realized that we have the ability to transfer all of our old video tapes to DVD’s via our new video camera and my handy little Mac, so out came the old tapes and damned if there wasn’t some footage of my kiddos that I don’t think I have ever seen before! See, there were tapes and tapes of mini video tapes that we never transfered to VHS… due to laziness? And now? BOOM! Videos of my kids when they were wee babes and I’m suddenly all weepy and Fat Bastardy with my “I want my baby back, baby back, baby back, baby back…”

*sigh*

Anyhoos, nestled amongst the vids of my cute little spawn, I found a video that I thought was long gone, as the VHS tape broke years ago. Unbeknownst to me, however, TGIM had wanted to see what would happen if he played a movie on the TV and videotaped the screen. Because he is a big geek? And I love him for it? The result is not pretty, y’all, but the footage! It’s alive! Mwah ha ha!

Shut up. I’ve been drinking a lot of Dr. Pepper.

So anyhoos, this is the copy of a copy of a copy of my skydiving video from 2000. I’ve updated the music, but the picture quality? It’s a bust. I’m just not that tech savvy, you know what I’m sayin’?

I would just like to note that I can’t help it if eyeglasses in the late 90’s were fugly. It was the times, people! It’s not my fault! And I had JUST had a baby, so shut up about the chubby cheeks, ai’ight?! GOSH!

Okay. Now that all that is out of the way… things to look for and to mock:

*Two words: flappy cheeks. Good lord.
*Interesting case of Thumbs Up rigor mortis.
*Frickin’ comedian on my back. (Honestly. Good thing he was way cute. And had a cool accent. That’s all I’m saying.)

P.S. I’m still frantically working on the B-day Trapeze Extravaganza video(s). Good times. Patience, Grasshopper(s)…

First Time Flipping!

Yeah. I have no idea how to download the footage from my brand-spankin’-new video camera so I can start creating. I’ll get right on that. For now, feel free to watch some raw footage as a preview of coming attractions… (Thanks for the video, Paige!)

Forget Fear. Worry About the Addiction…

 

OMG. They ain’t kidding with that slogan, I tell you what.

Trapezing? It’s da BOMB DIGGITY!

Plus, I met the guys who filmed the trapezing episode with Sarah Jessica Parker on Sex and the City, so it was like hanging with celebrities by association. Which is way cool. Even though I never watched Sex in the City. Because I am clearly unhip and out of the know and shut UP. But still! Sarah Jessica Parker! Who is married to Ferris! And rocked the hizzouse in Girls Just Wanna Have Fun! You know?!

Yep. Flippin’ SWEET. (Get it? “Flippin’”? Like the triple flip dismount I threw today?! On accident?! But still?! Dude. “Flippin’”. That was a good one.)

Movie to come.

P.S. Funniest e-birthday card EVAH! Seriously. I can’t stop laughing. My colleagues…. they stare. (Thanks a whole LOT, Mom! and HA!)

YoYo:  (*huffing and puffing*) I.. I can’t make it…

Hoops:  You’re a baby!… You’re a wee baby!

The Price of Birthday Joy

Signing up for two-hour trapeze class online: $69.00

Buying last-minute sportswear that will not fly up, fall off, or flash my hoohah at people and why didn’t anyone TELL me (before today) there was a gaping hole in the crotch of my comfy old yoga pants?: $22.74

Buying an extra battery for the video camera in order to assure that TGIM captures every single second of me forgetting fear and surrendering to the call of the sky: $79.12

Driving to Baltimore with TGIM and my friend Paige (who I have conned into coming with), getting hopped up on Dr. Pepper and singing along with songs on a CD burned with appropriately-themed trapezing songs such as Steve Miller’s Fly Like and Eagle, Roxette’s Wish I Could Fly, and Lynard Skynard’s Free Bird, but not Tom Petty’s Free Falling– because hello? so overdone?– oooh, and of COURSE Bette Midler’s Wind Beneath My Wings. Duh: Priceless

Why CAN’T You Fight Karma?

I have no idea what I did to bring this upon me, but wow. The cosmic forces of the universe are so totally ganging up on me. No, really. It’s true. See, one minute I’m all, “Woo-hoo! Look at me! On TV and shizz! Hanging with my Ry-Ry! Sort of! Total BFF’s! La la la! I wonder if he’d like to go trapezing with me?! Because he’s clearly the right body type, what with the weeness and obviously adequate level of physical fitness and stuff, and OMG wouldn’t that just be fifteen shades of fun and I wonder if he would wear tights because how cute would that be?!…” and the next I’m sitting here– tired, upset, alone– feeling as if the weight of the world is crushing me into oblivion. OBLIVION! Honestly. I find it amazing that one seemingly insignificant person can walk into a room and within mere seconds suck the air right out of it– WHOOSH!– leaving everyone (read: me) in her wake flopping on the floor gasping for air.  Blessed, blessed, life-giving air.

Man. I hate air-sucky people. I do. They… suck. And I hate karma for sending them to me just when I am feeling the pleasant kick-assiness of a job well-done!

Dude. I’m with Earl. Karma? (And air-sucky lady?) Man. What a bitch. 

On the bright side… Ryan Seacrest? In tights? On the flying trapeze? With the greatest of ease? Catching me, perhaps? Hee. I’m still giggling at the visual.

Just for Charlotte

Oh, sweetie. I am sorry for your pain. Here is my movie.

Um, that is all. For now.

The More You Know

If you pass a Tupperware container of tasty-looking cookies with a note attached inviting you to “Help yourself!”, then seriously… just take one. Taking two, then coming back for three more (plus snagging an extra to take home to your husband because you may want to get the recipe if it turns out he thinks the cookie is as tasty as you think it is), while clearly within the “Help yourself!”? parameters, could lead to a bulk staff email that reads:

Dear Rude Person Who Ate All The Cookies,

Joe brought those for my birthday and I didn’t get even one. So thanks a whole lot, you pig! I hope you get fat! And then die!

Sincerely,
Joan

Because honestly, you don’t need that kind of negativity on top of the heartburn.

__________________________________________________________________

Okay. Can someone please explain to me how Barnyard– the highly-anticipated, probably quite expensive to produce, summer blockbuster family movie, complete with big name celebrity voices (Kevin James, Courtney Cox, Danny Glover, et al)– ever got past the pitching phase? Seriously?! In my head, that meeting SHOULD have gone a little something like this:

Brain Trust: And then? This cow? Otis is his name… see, he sneaks into the bedroom and totally tips the KID! HA! He tips him! Get it! I love that part! I mean–

Executive: Wait. You named the cow Otis?

Brain Trust: Yep. Sounds nice and country doesn’t it? Otis.

Executive: (matter-of-fact voice) You named the cow Otis. HIS name is Otis.

Brain Trust: That’s right.

Executive: Um, you do realize that cows are, you know… female? What with the udders? And the milk?

Brain Trust: No, no… but this is a BOY cow, see? Otis. And–

Executive: (pointing to mock-up drawings) Good GOD. He’s got an udder, man! Cow tits! Can someone please get this idiot out of here?

Brain Trust: But… but…wait! He’s a BOY cow!…

Executive: They’re called BULLS, you moron… and they don’t have cow tits! Freak of nature!

And… scene.

Seriously. TGIM and I saw the trailer when we went to see Superman Returns (RAWR!) and we were like, “The voice of that cow, you know, the one with the prominent udder? Is totally being dubbed by a man. A man! Who the hell makes a movie about barnyards and doesn’t know that cow’s milk comes from the momma cow, not the daddy? WHO doesn’t know that?! Good LORD!” Well, clearly the geniuses producing this movie for starters. I’m going to give them the benefit of the doubt and chalk it up to lactose intolerance.

BUT… I simply cannot in good conscience endorse a movie full of such glaring inconsistencies with real life. Sure, I can willingly suspend disbelief when the barnyard animals crack jokes and dance the Running Man while standing upright– because really, who hasn’t imagined that at one point or another in his/her life, am I right?! Cows! Bustin’ the Running Man!– but a “boy cow” with an udder? Really? Nope. It just can’t be done.

I mean honestly.

Teats on a “boy cow.” That’s where I draw the line.

I LOVES me some Ryan Seacrest! (But I HATE Verizon. A whole LOT.)

Okay, so the internet is out at my house… again… and it is my off-day at work (wooHOO!) so I had to jostle and bite my way to the front of the line of way elderly library patrons this morning in order to score a computer. Seriously. Never underestimate the power of small and sassy. Those poor old suckers never had a chance. I mean, kick a few canes and you’re in bidness, that’s all I’m saying. Note it.

Okay, I didn’t really. But I imagined I did, so I’m clearly the most awful person ever anyway, all right?! Are you happy now?! GOSH!

So… I was on TV. Me. And Ryan Seacrest. On TV. Together. E! Network, baby! I SAW it! Ryan said I have “natural talent.” Ryan said my silly video was “very good.” Ryan was “impressed.” BOOYAH! How surreal is THAT?! I know, right?! Ryan and I are, like, total BFF’s now. For reals. Me and my wee Ryan…

(*shakes head affectionately*)

So, in order to show my new BFF Ryan and the folks at E! that I am clearly the most perfect candidate for the Emmy Red Carpet with Ryan Seacrest Extravaganza Rama-Lama-Bing-Bang, I have decided to make a brand-spanking new video. See, next Thursday is my birthday, right? RIGHT?! And remember how last year I scored those free tickets to the American Idol concert in DC? Do ya?! Well, this year, I’ve decided I am going to have to top that kickass birthday experience with something absolutely SQUEEworthy, so I have decided that I am totally going to take the plunge… I’m going trapezing.

WOO!

I’ll be soooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarin’! Flyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyin’! There’s not a star in heaven that–

Good lord. I have GOT to nip my High School Musical obsession in the BUD, I tell you what. It’s a sickness, y’all. A SICKNESS! But they’re so CUTE! And the music is so CATCHY! Shut up! It’s true! It is! I don’t care!

And I am clearly insane.

Hmmm… Okay, now to get into the swing of things before next Thursday (get it?! “swing”?! HA! I kill myself, I really do…) all I need are some hard-hitting trapeze interview questions.

(*rushes off to brainstorm and quite possibly watch self on TV with BFF… again*)

Okay, just BREATHE…

OMG, y’all! O! M! G!

Is it true?! Is it?! Did Ryan FREAKING Seacreast introduce me and my insane little video clip last night on E!?! Did he?! Like, me?! On TV and e’rything?! With my wee Ryan?! Kind of?! And nobody TOLD me?! So I totally MISSED it?! Really?!

Well.

RUDE.

Oh, dear God. I think I’m going to pass out…

Sorry! Sorry!

Okay, still having technical difficulties… all y’all didn’t think I’d let a little thing like adulthood computer programming illiteracy stop me from creating a whole new website, now did you? Aw, you guys are cute.

I am currently playing with Wordpress… I should have a new site installed soon! (The .Mac one is way CUTE, but not at all manageable… completely high maintenance! I will be going along a more minimalist route shortly… and totally organizing and archiving all my American Idol recaps from the last two seasons into their very own categories! Eh? EH?! I know, right? SWEET.)

Until then! Click here for .Mac site

Top Five Reasons Why I’m an Odd Duck

Reason #5: Well, first of all, I use the phrase “odd duck.” Duh. That one was a total gimme.

Reason #4: When I discover there is a dance tutorial at the end of the High School Musical DVD, I get a little excited. Like, Jump Up And Down In The Privacy Of My Living Room Squealing “Oooooh! Bring It ON! Let’s Bop To The TOP!” excited. And then I get way sweaty. From the bustin’ of the moves?

Reason #3: Three words: I [heart] Strong Bad. For reals. He’s the shizznit. I find him extraordinarily funny. Cracks me right up, he does. Especially Trogdor the Burninator. “TROOOGDOOOOR! Burninating the countryside! Burninating the peasants! Burninating all the people and the thatched-roof cottages! Thatched roof cottages!” Yeah. It’s a classic.

Reason #2: Not only can I tell you which episode of The Brady Bunch will be airing within the first five seconds of the show (Guaranteed. No, seriously. Try me.), I have the same ability with Gilligan’s Island. What can I say? It’s a gift. Don’t hate me for my bad-ass cognitive recall ability. It’s frighteningly selective.

Reason #1: When I discover there is a sliver of a chance that I could fly out to California for the Emmys and walk the Red Carpet with Ryan Seacrest– and possibly be in the same vicinity as Kristen Bell! And Lauren Graham! And Hugh Laurie! And lots and lots of other famous actors who were actually NOMINATED for Emmys!– and all I have to do is send in one teensy-tiny tape of myself interviewing someone, well, I get a little crazy. CLEARLY.

But as a rep from the network sponsoring the challenge CALLED ME TODAY (I guess my Ry-Ry was too busy or something, whatev) and engaged me in an impromptu telephone interview (SQUEEEEEEE! SQUEEEEEE!!!… *deep breath*), I suppose The Crazy inside ain’t all bad, then, eh? Who’s laughing now, TGIM?! Huh?! Booyah!

Oh, man. When the caller asked me why I wanted to win, I blurted out, “Because I want to meet Ryan Seacrest! And interview celebrities! Preferably Kristen Bell!” And when he asked me what my hobbies were, did I plug my site? Did I?! NO. I choked. “I like to jog… and write… oh, and I blog… and read and watch TV, of course!” Blogging came third?! And no mention of my site?! Good LORD, people! I didn’t mention my site! Honestly. This is why I am not in advertising, y’all. CHOKE.

Honestly, I don’t expect to win. I’m just flattered they thought my (very first!) video was good enough to warrant a call to me. Because hello? It’s ten shades of insane?

Seriously. Whatever. I don’t even care…

Aaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeiiiiiiiii!…yiyiyiyiyI!…woo-HOOOOOOOOOO!!!!

Okay. Maybe I care a little.

(*rushes off to find paper bag for the hyperventilation*)

People Who Suck

(DISCLAIMER: Mentally composed during a meeting of such excruciating boredom that I had to keep myself from nodding off and drooling all over the gentleman sitting next to me by internally ranting about perceived slights to actors that I do not even know and never will know, which is really quite sad really. We’d all totally be BFFs, I just know it.)

The Emmy committee. Not only was my favorite PI-playing girl Kristen Bell snubbed– again– but for the sixth straight year Lauren Graham was shut out. I know, right?! No Veronica Mars and no Lorelei Gilmore?! My mind? Blown! Honestly. How is this even possible? These ladies are phenomenal actors, and anyone who is anyone knows this. Granted, I do realize that historically actors from the netlets have had a difficult road to the Emmy ballot, but this year was supposed to be different, right? It was supposed to be the year of the netlets, right?! The year of the underdogs who are passed over every year because no one can believe there is actual quality broadcasting on UPN or the WB. But nooooooooo. We get actors such as Stockard Channing and Julia Louis-Dreyfus and Geena Davis and their shows were frickin’ cancelled. That’s right! Cancelled! The mind boggles.

Oh, and don’t even get me started on the temerity, the insolence!, of leaving Hugh Laurie of House off the ballot. Are you fricking kidding me, Emmy committee people?! Do you even WATCH television? Hugh Laurie carries that show on his back! He’s amazing! And where are Jim and Pam?! Huh?! And Earl? Where’s EARL?! I mean, I know Jason Lee’s a freaky Scientologist who named his firstborn child Pilot Inspektor Riesgraf Lee, but STILL! Funny?! And he skateboards, too! Not that it has anything to do with his acting skills, but seriously, dude’s a professional sk8tr. I’m not even kidding. Rock on, Earl Hickey. Rock on.

No. We get Charlie Sheen and his dad. Brr! And Kevin James? From King of Queens? SERIOUSLY?! Que horror! Excuse me. I need to go throw up now.

Hey. On the bright side at least Emmy night is three plus hours of my life I won’t be wasting lost in thrall to inane television broadcasting, I tell you what. No sir. I’ll probably just read a book. Or write one! Yes! I’ll write a book! And never believe in the Emmy process again! Ha! That’ll learn ‘em.

Damn.

Things that make you go “HA!”

“Six words: Will Ferrell as a Nascar driver.”

This was purportedly the pitch to the studios for Will Ferrell’s newest cinematic vehicle Talladega Nights: the Ballad of Ricky Bobby. (Heh. Vehicle. Get it? “Vehicle”?! As in a medium through which something is transmitted, expressed, or accomplished? But also an actual vehicle that one can drive?! Because… NASCAR?!… Wait. I ruined it, didn’t I? Damn my tendency to overexplain!)

By the trailer– which I saw before Superman Returns (Superman! *sigh*)– many of the scenes look highly improvised– like one big SNL skit, but better– by hilarious people who are at their best when they are given free rein. Case in point: Ricky Bobby (Ferrell), after a fiery crash on the track, is running around in nothing but his undies and his helmet screaming that he is on fire. Of course, he isn’t on fire, and his crew keeps trying to explain this to him, but he’s hysterical. And dude, nothing’s funnier than Will Ferrell when he’s hysterical:

Ricky Bobby (still running around in a panic): Help me, Jesus! Help me, Jewish God! Help me, Tom Cruise! Tom Cruise, use your witchcraft to get the fire off me!

Seriously, that scene struck me so funny that I laugh every time I think about it. Hee. (See?!) Plus, mocking Tom Cruise is always funny. Because he is way short and beyond strange and attacks innocent furniture and has Katie Holmes and her baby held prisoner in his freaky Scientological compound and must totally die? (Joshua Jackson, where ARE YOU?! Joshua! JOSH! Save them! PAAAACEEEEY!) Seriously, I think that scene has ingratiated itself into my comedic vault, right up there with Ferrell as Gene Frenkle of the Blue Oyster Cult playing that damn cowbell during (Don’t Fear) the Reaper. I know, right? That’s really saying something! Right?! RIGHT?!

Okay, it’s really not. I’m easily amused. It’s just a cross I bear, y’all.

But still! FUNNY. But don’t take my word for it. I mean, I can’t handle that kind of responsibility, I just can’t. See for yourself, if you feel so inclined. Go on, do it. Do it. Do it. Do it!… Do it.

That being said, I probably won’t see the actual movie (but I might). Hello? The end product is never as funny as the sum of its parts, or the parts of its whole (except when it is), or something to that effect, but whatever! My point is Aristotle be damned! I cannot in good conscience pay money to see this movie (unless I change my mind)! I mean, come on. Will Ferrell as a Nascar driver? Really? REALLY?! Good LORD, people… Say it with me now: What were they thinking?!

Lost in Translation. Again.

I was reading an entertainment forum on the internet the other day when I came across an argument going on between several commenters stemming from a (written) conversation which looked something like this:

1st commenter: I guess I’m part of the 1% that doesn’t agree.
2nd commenter: Yeah, there’s always someone tasteless…j/k.

The 1st commenter took offense to this “tasteless” remark (witness me exhibiting admirable restraint by not pointing out the witty pun at work here– aw damn it) which started a flurry of responses from others helpfully explaining to the silly, silly 1st commenter that duh, j/k means just kidding!

The thing is… have you ever noticed that when a person uses the phrase “Just kidding!” after saying something which could conceivably be termed rude or improper, much of the time said person is totally not? Kidding, that is? Not at all?

For instance, when someone does something stupid and is all, “Man! That was stupid!” and I say, “Hell yeah it was stupid!… just kidding,” or “That’s okay. You can’t help that you’re an idiot… just kidding!” I’m really not kidding. Because, for reals, it was a totally stupid thing to do.

Or say for example that same someone is trying to explain to me why I need to be more careful about how I load the spoons into the dishwasher in order to achieve maximum cleanliness and shine and I blurt out, “GAH! I don’t care!… Oh, just kidding, continue…” I am totally not kidding. Because honestly.

Or when I see someone standing in my kitchen eating Ben and Jerry’s Everything But The… straight from the carton and say to that someone, “Man, wish I could eat an entire carton of ice cream with no thought whatsoever of anyone else who may want some… just kidding!” well, I’m not really kidding. Because I really wish I could. And this wish obviously will never come to fruition because that someone standing in the kitchen is totally eating all the frickin’ ice cream.

I call it the classic “just kidding!” retreat. It’s the perfect strategy to say exactly what you mean– good manners be damned!– without any negative fallout. Because, dude, you were “just kidding.” Right? Being all ironical and stuff! Come on! Loosen up!

But come on. A gratuitous “just kidding” (or the written equivalent: the *shrug* or smiley face) won’t always take the edge off of “You are a big stupid-head with no taste because you have a different opinion than me.” Nope. The way I see it, when a comment (especially in writing) is derogatory or satirical in nature, you can usually assume that a person has a very good chance of taking those words at face value, no matter how many smiley faces follow. And this can lead to “Shut up, you big meanie!” and quite possibly fisticuffs which is why you should never, EVER give out your address over the internet. Because, you see, verbal irony is very often lost in translation. That is why, in my humble opinion, unless you are prepared to stand your ground in the aftermath of remarks of extraordinary rudeness, it is best to just say what you mean (or if it is insulting… not).

Well, unless you are a big rude dummyhead and think that nobody is smart enough to realize that you are employing the classic “just kidding!” retreat, which HA! I am totally on to you, sucker! In which case, I wish I could be as clueless as you.

Just kidding.

Looks like I’m getting some new digs…

OMG!
O! M! G!
Oh! My! GOSH!

*deep breath*

So I am in the midst of a huge life change. For reals. Like, earth-shattering. I am MOVING… my blog to my own domain! Woo-HOO! I’m moving on up to www.desperateworkingmomma.com (note the lack of plural momma– no S). Now if I weren’t so freaking technologically challenged, I’d know how to export all my Blogger archives to my new site (which is actually an iWeb creation). But clearly I am freaking technologically challenged and I have no idea what I’m doing and I don’t want to accidentally delete my hundreds and hundreds of archived posts so I haven’t exported all my archives from Blogger and my site is a mere shell of a blog but what can you do?

You can obsess about it for days on end, that’s what.

*deep breath*

Do you see what TGIM has been living with for the past few days?! DO YOU?! Picture this:

SCENE: Cat following TGIM around the house, madly typing random stuff that she clearly doesn’t understand into her laptop:

“Oh LORD! I think I just lost my posts! Oh MY… never mind. There they are. My bad… HEY! Look at this wicked cool page I made! Look! LOOK! HEY! Are you LOOKING?!… Should I post this picture? I think I should post this picture. Do you think this is a good picture to post? Because if you do I will totally post it… What the hell is an FTP?!… Ooooh! The links are working! The links are working!… I need a donut. Are you hungry for a donut? Because I could totally go for one, you know? MMM! Cinnamon!… I just posted a movie to my Movie Page! BOOYAH! Hey, I don’t freaking care if you don’t want me to post it! You look cute in it and it’s going UP! Yes-HUH!”

Yeah. I’m that much of a spazz right now.

Honestly. It’s a mercy he hasn’t duct-taped my mouth shut and locked me in the hall closet until I get it all out of my system. Which is a good thing as this obsession will probably last for several more days and I’d get wicked hungry after a while, yo?

Anyhoos, feel free to roam around my new site which is totally not in any way shape or form a finished product. But I did create my first Cat-on-the-Street video and post it, so there’s always that to watch and mock because, you know, I am ridiculously insane.

*runs off to figure out what the hell FTP is*

Decisions, decisions, decisions…

So… I’m toying with the idea of starting a weekly (twice a month? monthly?) video podcast. I know, right?! Is it possible that I’ve gone completely insane? Seriously. See, I have this little Mac Powerbook and I’ve been slowly unlocking the mysteries of the Mac world (being a Mac convert and all) and I’m learning all about GarageBand and other cool stuff and my good friend who is, like, totally a big ol’ podcaster (http://www.mommycast.com/) has been, oh, let’s say encouraging me (read: hounding me day and night, for reals!) to jump into the exciting world of podcasting! Now, as I loathe my recorded voice with the burning passion of ten thousand suns– because of the “I’m Twelveness”?– I find that it isn’t so bad when my face is attached to it. I don’t know why. Weird, huh? It’s inexplicable.

Now here’s the thing: This jump into scary video podcasting waters would mean investing in microphones and cameras and tripods and batteries and updated software and my own Desperate Working Mommas domain and… and… and lots of other way important, possibly expensive stuff! Stuff that my children would break in a heartbeat if they were anywhere near it! So I must weigh this out carefully in my mind.

Good LORD! The agony of indecision!

But seriously? I think I am totally going to do it. Well, once I figure out how the hell all this stuff works, naturally. It could be a while. I am SO not even joking. Podcasting is hard, yo?

But still! Exciting!

Although I think my videos would be more like Cat-on-the-Street-casts, and I don’t even know if that is technically “video podcasting.” It could just be “acting the fool.” Whatever.

Anyhoos, video podcasting… (*shakes head ruefully*) What will they think of next? TV shows we can watch on our iPods?! Ha! I know, right? Silly Cat. As if.

Alanis Morissette, honey? Pay attention.

As I handed my DVD sale and checkout impulse buy to the Tower Records Cashier Dude, he raised his eyebrow at me.

Judging me.

“Tae Bo and a Twix!” I said overbrightly. Then, “Yeah. I’m aware of the irony.”

I could still hear him laughing as I walked out the door.

Yep. He’s SO on my laminated list.

Holy mother of heaven is he PRETTY. Rrrrawr!

That is all.