There are a lot of reasons I could list for not watching the Oscars (namely the fact that while I want to see most of the movies that were nominated, I’m too cheap to see them before they’re out of theaters … and then I probably won’t anyway) but last night there was one that came out above all the rest.
THE WALKING DEAD
Three simple, true words.
How gives a rat’s ass about what color Liza Minelli’s hair was (electric blue, just like her pantsuit – according to my morning Googling) when you had the chance to watch an entire hour of Norman Reedus and Emily Kinney (the only people on the episode) killing it so beautifully that I now want a spin-off featuring just them, all the time. Rick and Carl who? It’s Daryl and Beth for me.
“Isn’t it queer: there are only two or three human stories, and they go on repeating themselves as fiercely as if they had never happened before; like the larks in this country, that have been singing the same five notes over for thousands of years.”
– Willa Cather “O, Pioneers!”
After the death of Philip Seymour Hoffman, Russell Brand wrote a column for The Guardian.
Please read it.
I bet you’ve heard that before.
I know I have.
So please do pardon me while I whine a little bit about the weather. Just to get back at me, please do feel free to whine about your weather in a comment on this blog post.
Anyway, why does winter suck for me right now?
Mostly because it’s only January 27, but also most recently because Lake Erie (of which I am a close neighbor) is 95% frozen over. This means that there will be colder temperatures and less snow.
I think I could deal with these colder-than-Alaska temperatures if there was more snow. It would seem more like actual winter.
This is why winter sucks. For me.
Are there rules for email etiquette?
Yes? No? Maybe?
Any way you look at it, there should be.
So, in light of my being thoroughly annoyed by a distinct lack of email etiquette lately, here are my five simple…
RULES FOR EMAIL ETIQUETTE (when you initiate an email)
- If you send me an email and I reply in less than a week, politely answering your inane questions and asking socially acceptable questions about your work, pets, and family, you should reply to me in less than a week. After all, it was you who emailed me in the first place so it only stands to reason that you wanted me to reply.
- If, in fact, you didn’t want me to reply, please don’t email me. It’s fine if you don’t care to hear from me. I’d rather know that than go on being deluded by you.
- Should you email me and I reply and, three weeks or more later, I find myself wondering if perhaps you died and that’s why you never replied, please do know that I don’t want to email you any more. If you are, in fact, still alive, that is. If you’re dead, my condolences to your family.
- Never, never, never email me a half-assed reply to something you asked for by telling me that you’ll reply to the rest later and, if you don’t, remind you to do it. I will never, never, never beg you to humor me with a piddly little bunch of words that are nothing more than that.
- Just tell me if you’re too busy to bother with me any more. I’ve got my big girl panties on. I can take it. In fact, I’d like to take it. It’d save me a hell of a lot of annoyance in my life when I really don’t need any.
Thank you for reading my tantrum.
Just under four hours here in northwest Pennsylvania until 2014 arrives. I’m a lame but happy homebody sitting at my computer in snowflake print fleece pajama pants and I’m not totally sure I’ll stay up until midnight.
But yeah, bring on 2014. I’m ready!
I even have my New Year’s Resolution ready to go.
I hearby resolve to get over my allergy to shopping and make one impulse, not even second-guessed purchase per month.
Let’s do it.
More lightly, I also resolve that any news-y Twitter feed or website I currently like to go to that thinks I give two rats’ asses about anyone in the Kardashian family will immediately be a Twitter and website I no longer pay any attention to.
Anyway, I wish the happiest of new year’s to anyone reading this blog at any time!
I think with was The Weather Channel that decided to name winter storms like hurricanes are named. Last year was the first year they did it, I know, and I vaguely remember reading something about how they wanted people to be better prepared for the storms. I call bull crap.
They just want a way to sell the storm, a way to plaster something in large, alarming letters denoting “Breaking News” across our television screens.
There were winter storms before they had names and the media still covered them. So what changed?
Marketing, that’s what.
Meanwhile, we’re already on Winter Storm Electra and “winter” doesn’t start for another eight days.
So can we at least wait to start naming them “Winter Storm …” until after, say, winter starts? Is that too much to ask? Probably.
Twenty days until Christmas.
Guess who hasn’t bought a thing yet. Unless, of course, you count the Christmas tree shaped Reese’s Peanut Cups that vaguely resemble turds and the “snowflake” shaped York Peppermint Patties and the Hershey Milk Chocolate bars with Santa on them.
I’ve been eating those.
And the Hershey’s Milk Chocolate Bells. Those are going to require me asking Santa Claus for new clothes a size up…
Anyway, I’m off to consider this ticking Christmas clock.
It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them. ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
It’s bad that I’m whining about the couple inches of snow on the ground already, isn’t it? It has to be bad. It’s only November 12. As best as I can figure it, I’ve got five more months, give and take, of snow. But couldn’t it have waited until Thanksgiving at least?
In defense of Mother Nature, I’m only supposed to get snow today and tomorrow then temperatures are going back into the 40s and 50s. But still…
I think I’ll go hide under a blanket until it melts.