the ocean

Church, Redlined

I went to church with my parents this past weekend and I'll be damned if they didn't change it since the last time I was there. Instead of "one in being with the father," it's now "consubstantial with the father." Instead of "and also with you," it's now "and with your spirit." Instead of "god of power and might," it is now "god of hosts." It was honestly pretty amazing because I got to watch elderly people who have been Catholic their entire lives trip over their words and fumble for their little card setting out all the changes. I'm not sure that comedy was the motivating factor behind the changes, but they have certainly delivered.

And now that I know we can just go ahead and change the mass, I have a lot of great suggestions for how we could punch it up a little bit. Eating the body of Christ is a bit of a downer, so why don't we eat his Cool Ranch Doritos instead? Shaking hands to share the peace of Christ is a big germ spreader, so I would suggest that everyone simply text one another instead. Or ask one another to play FastMoney on Family Feud. And that whole death and resurrection thing? Sort of asking for a leap of faith, don't you think? How about He just sticks the landing on His vault despite a sprained ankle? Now that was a classic moment in TV entertainment.

Thanks, A Lot

In the spirit of the season, here are some things I'm thankful for right now. I've purposefully omitted the obvious, like my family, friends, America, and Jesus. This isn't ABC Family, although I can see how you might be confused about that.

-- Family Feud & Friends for iPhone. Now I can remind myself that I apparently have nothing in common with 100 average Americans every time I turn on my phone. And my sister can litter my Facebook wall with requests to help her with FastMoney, which only sounds dirty.

-- Chili's. What can I say? I just love a good queso skillet. And now that I know I can get it delivered, I don't ever need to leave the house.

-- Kickboxing. Yes, it is filled with crazy people, including a woman who is always sick and a gentleman who appears to be auditioning for the Rockettes. But I've lost more than ten pounds, and that's despite my affection for the previous item on this list.

-- The Hunger Games Trilogy. The past few months have been pretty rough for me, but these books made certain parts of them fly by. Just like my stop on the Red Line as I got a bit too caught up in Catching Fire.

-- Revenge. Not the actual act of revenge, just the show with the girl from Everwood on ABC. It's weird to be hooked on something I never thought I would watch in the first place.

-- Rainbow Nerds. A handful of these make me just hyper enough to make it through an hour or two of my workday. Plus they teach us all a valuable lesson about racial understanding.

-- International Business Class. I always thought people were jerks for paying extra so they could fully recline and have their own little entertainment station. I still do, but now I'm probably going to have to sign up for jerkdom myself.

Obviously just a small sampling. I'm thankful every day, at least in between bouts of random rage.

Remote Viewing

Did you ever notice that Matlock got a lot of fairly hot tail for a half-senile senior citizen? I mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like Cindy Crawford (back when she was still CINDY CRAWFORD) was guest starring as a leggy DA with a heart of gold, but there were plenty of cool blondes in their mid forties willing to slip him a subpoena, if you know what I mean, and I'm not sure that I even do. Of course, it's hard to tell if any of those ladies really had a body under their dickies and teal power suits, but they certainly weren't old balls like Matlock. They say he never lost a case, but the matter of Matlock versus man handles certainly didn't turn out very well for him.

As the foregoing likely suggests, my TV habits tend to change a bit when I'm at my parents' house. I'm always hesitant to suggest programming choices ever since that incident in the eighth grade where they faulted me for A Different World allegedly being salacious. (I think Whitley bought condoms or something.) So every morning kicks off with back-to-back Matlocks and our evenings are filled with Law & Orders and Mythbusters. I have actually reached the stage now where I find the former's hourly murders to be rather relaxing, although Sam Waterston's insurance commercials still put me on edge. Mythbusters and I will never truly be friends, however, as it reminds me too much of something a fourth grade teacher would try to show you to convince you that science is cool. Suck it, science, you will never be sports or entertainment.

Thanks

I'm kind of a fan of Thanksgiving. This should probably not be a surprise to anyone, given my well-known affection for days off and binge eating. If it were fiscally possible for me to quit my job and move into a Chili's, I would certainly do so without hesitation. But man does not live by Southwestern Egg Rolls alone.

Anyway, we started the day off with the Macy's parade, which I always love for its utterly random combinations of celebrities. There is truly nothing like seeing Ozzy Osbourne and the cast of Glee on the Campbell's Chicken Noodle Float singing a Rosemary Clooney Christmas classic. And it's even better when buttressed on both sides by interviews with the stars of "hit" NBC shows. How better to kick off the holidays than with that guy who used to be on Road Rules and now "stars" on Grimm?

As usual, our holiday feast was at a local buffet restaurant, which afforded me the opportunity to load up on empty carbs and my 100-year-old grandmother the opportunity to complain about the ambient noise. In a show of my extreme dedication to my personal health, I agreed to split a dessert with my sister.

Now we're doing a puzzle and watching Elf on cable. If the day's cholesterol count doesn't kill me, the excitement might.

Vacation Time

Yesterday was sort of a weird day. I took the day off from work, which I hadn't done in a very long time. I sort of didn't know what to do with myself. I still got up at 7:15 and went to the gym. Then I came home and actually logged on to my office accounts for a while before realizing that that sort of defeated the purpose of having a day off. Eventually I went to get a massage. Getting rubbed by a stranger for two hours was kind of disorienting. Also my sinuses got really stopped up while I was lying on that weird circular face pillow and I almost suffocated. I did leave vaguely relaxed, although that sort of ended the minute I stepped out into the cold, disgusting rain. Such good times.

I also took an Amtrak train back to my parents' house last night. If you have not ever taken Amtrak before a major holiday, do not do so. I don't like to throw the phrase "mob scene" around, but this fit any sensible person's definition. The good people of Amtrak (a sassy black lady and a sassy white lady, so far as I could tell) apparently decided to close off their boarding lounges on one of the busiest travel days of the year. And so hundreds of people thronged in the lower level lobby of Union Station, asking each other whether they were on the same train and whether anyone knew what the hell was going on and, occasionally, pushing each other. I kept thinking back to the New Yorker article I read about people getting crushed in crowds on Black Friday. I've noticed it's never a good sign if something reminds me of the New Yorker, and not just because I have a restraining order against Malcom Gladwell.

Anyway, I made it back alive. And I have accomplished very little today. I think I could maybe get used to this whole "time off" thing.

Victory Shall Be Mine

I've undertaken a new initiative that seems bound to completely transform my life for the better and I am very excited about it. It's called the Jewel-Osco Wish Big Win Big Holiday Giveaway, and it involves more than $30 million in prizes and money saving offers, all $30 million of which I'm pretty certain I'm 100% likely to win. The way it works is that you get a game board and, by shopping at Jewel-Osco, collect various food-themed markers to adhere to it with your own saliva. (It's very much like the McDonald's Monopoly promotion, but without the benefit of having licensed the Monopoly name. Or the benefit of french fries dipped in beef fat, for that matter.) If you collect five or six markers in a certain category, you win that prize. And what prizes they are! I'm just one Diamond Nut Toppings marker away from winning a $2 cash prize, and two pepperoni-themed markers away from a $100 digital camera. (The one on the game board is red, but I'm hoping I can get it in another color. Or maybe trade it for something I don't already own.) Where it really gets exciting though is when you get to the vehicles of your dreams, so long as you do not dream of a vehicle that is worth more than $25,000. (Or $50,000, but I'm still four Chex-related markers short on that category.) There's also a $10,000 vacation to an unspecified but vaguely tropical-looking location, which I can only assume is not a leper colony. But anyway, the point is that I'm clearly going to win this competition, because I can buy groceries and lick stamps with the best of them. I don't remember college very well, but I'm pretty sure that was my major.

TV Time

Nick at Nite is now running a two hour block of Friends every night. Although it's sort of weird for me to experience as nostalgia something I actually lived through the first time around, it's also kind of fun to watch Chandler's weight fluctuate wildly and Ross's hair take on a life of its own. Plus the characters become broader and broader over the years until Monica is borderline obsessive compulsive and Joey is essentially retarded. Phoebe and Rachel I'm pretty okay with, though. Jennifer Aniston is so much less sad as a character than in real life.

I'm still rocking the Reba in the mornings, though. Right now they're on the later seasons where Cheyenne had her comic alcohol problem and Kyra disappeared without explanation for like ten episodes. It's not exactly a golden era in American television, but in the first half hour of the day it's about all I can handle. ABC Family is now offering What I Like About You, which is very tempting, but I'm just not sure I can process the wit and wisdom of an Amanda Bynes at the break of day.

Talking Turkey

Every year I engage in a fantastic tradition of bathing a turkey in my tub every night for a week. You see, we always have turkey for Thanksgiving, as many folks do, and before one can eat the turkey, one must thaw it out. Dressing the turkey in a plastic bag and helping it enjoy a room temperature soak is the method that Roommate Liz introduced me to many moons ago. And no, now that you ask, I am not entirely sure that she was not just fucking with me.

I do sort of enjoy spending some quality time with the carcass I'm planning to eat, though. You feel as though you really get to know the dead bird -- its likes, its dislikes, its buoyancy. For instance, I can tell you that this turkey is about 15 pounds, but seems much heavier when frozen. And that it has a cold, cold embrace. It's like the Gwyneth Paltrow of the avian world.

The weird part is that I don't even really like turkey very much. It sort of tastes like paper to me. But I do very much like gorging myself generally, so I think we'll get along just fine, thank you very much.

Rise, Shine

I am not a morning person. On more than one occasion, I have tossed my alarm clock across the room. I spend the first half hour of any given day wanting to kill anyone who crosses my path. I do not believe that people should be legally permitted to schedule 9 AM meetings. But recently I have taken to getting up early on weekdays and reaching the office by 8. The reason? It seems that early morning is the only time I can get people to leave me the eff alone. From nine on it's constant phone calls, emails, meetings, pop ins. Even at night there's the occasional stray email demanding something impossible while I'm trying to play Just Dance 3. But unreasonableness likes to sleep in, it seems. Yesterday I managed to write three pages of a brief AND have a bowel movement all between 8 and 9. Of course, I also went to bed at 10:30 last night. A Friday night. I guess I'll have to decide whether I value my social life more than my productivity.

Plan Accordingly

Tonight I was involved in a dispute about the ratings for According to Jim. (They were not that great, in case you were wondering.) Obviously this is very strange and sad. But the good news is that this led me to the Wikipedia entry for According to Jim, which share all sorts of amazing fun facts. To wit:

-- Jim is an abrasive but lovable suburban father.
-- Much like his real life counterpart, Jim's character is noted as a fan of blues music.
-- Jim often finds himself in messy situations because his laziness inclines him to search for alternative ways of doing things with less effort.
-- Jim often makes an example of Andy, who doesn't have a girlfriend.

-- Although Jim did not beat the competition, it performed well enough to secure itself that spot on the 2003 fall schedule.
-- In December 2008, co-star Larry Joe Campbell said that the sets had been destroyed, indicating that the series was cancelled, but that a series finale had been recorded.

But the best part is the listing of all the names the show has internationally. Because yes, they show According to Jim in Estonia. Take a gander at this:


-- Albania: Jeta sipas Xhimit
-- Arab World: على مقاييس جيم
-- Austria: Jim hat immer Recht! (Jim is always right!)
-- Brazil: O Jim é Assim
-- Bulgaria: Питайте Джим (Pitaytie Jim, Ask Jim)
-- Croatia: Svijet prema Jimu
-- Estonia: Jimi maailm
-- Finland: Perheen kalleudet
-- Germany: Immer wieder Jim (Jim again and again)
-- Hungary: Jim szerint a világ
-- Israel: החיים לפי ג'ים (HOT family/yes stars Base)
-- Italy: La vita secondo Jim
-- Latvia: Džima dēļ
-- Macedonia: Како ќе каже Џим
-- Montenegro: Prema Jimu
-- Poland: Jim wie lepiej (Jim knows better)
-- Portugal: O mundo de Jim
-- Romania: Vorba lu' Jim
-- Russia: Как сказал Джим (Kak skazal Jim, Jim says)
-- Serbia: Život po Džimu
-- Slovakia: Bláznivý Jimmov život
-- Slovenia: Jimova družina
-- Switzerland: La vita secondo Jim
-- Spain: El mundo según Jim
-- Ukraine: Як сказав Джим (Yak skazal Jim, Jim says)

You are very welcome.

Dental Science

I feel like I write about going to the dentist every single time I go to the dentist, but I swear that unusual things always happen there. Or maybe it's just that the whole setup is unusual: you're lying flat on your back in the middle of a workplace on a weekday, a stranger is poking around in your mouth with little pointy sticks, and invariably someone is trying to make small talk with you while you are on the verge of gagging. But anyway, if my dentistry-related writings are not your cup of tea, I apologize. Although I frankly don't mean it, because I'm kind of a jerk that way.

So the good news is that my dentist seems finally to have found a sane hygienist. Typically they land somewhere on the scale between Amy Fisher and Tori Spelling playing Amy Fisher in a Lifetime movie, but this one seemed fine. She did not express any extreme political views, state any uncomfortable opinions about my physical appearance, or purposefully try to hurt me in any way. In fact, she barely spoke at all, which is 100% my preference. I find it very hard to be witty on the subject of tartar buildup.

The bad news is that my dentist decided to have an awkward confrontation with me about whether I have sensitive tooth pain. He simply refused to believe that I did not. He asked me the question about six different ways and, when the answer remained no, decided to cross examine me with his various observations about the inside of my mouth. To be fair, I have never heard it so breathtakingly described. But I was still not able to change my answer, which led to a lot of disappointed muttering.

So my new theory is that there's a sort of craziness equilibrium that must be achieved in any given workplace, so when one person stops producing, others have to pick of the slack. Don't you just love science?

Disturbances

Two disturbing things happened to me at the grocery store today. First, I was approached by a man dressed up as a Christmas present, who asked me to donate for the poor and downtrod this holiday season. It was simultaneously the most depressing and frightening thing I had ever seen. It was all I could do to stop myself from just handing him my credit card and telling him to have a nice time. Second, I was somehow talked into playing the Jewel/Osco equivalent of a Monopoly promotion, which caused me to spend roughly twenty minutes licking the backs of little glossy piece of paper and attaching them to a paper game board. I did not win anything and I likely have scabies as a result.

There and Back

I went to St. Louis for work on Wednesday. I don't have a lot to say about St. Louis because I was there for maybe seven hours, including the time I spent at the airport. I remember it fondly from my childhood, however, mainly because the zoo has this fun train you can ride and lots of giraffes. Oh, and there's a kids' museum where you can slide down a three story slide and make your hair stand up on end by touching a metal ball. I did none of those things on Wednesday, I fear.

I did have a forty-five minute altercation with my rental car company, during which time they lost my reservation, couldn't find me a car, couldn't find me a GPS, couldn't run my credit card, and then made me ride a shuttle bus to my rental. Also I flew all the way out there with one of those middle-aged men who knows everything sitting right behind me, along with an off-duty pilot who got to be treated to middle-aged man's many explanations of how airplanes work. Oh, and I was accosted by a crazy lady in the security line on the way back, who spent the entire time we were in the line obsessing out loud about whether the other line was moving faster and why there wasn't a line for "premier" passengers at this airport, like there is at Dulles. When you are waxing nostalgic about Dulles, you know you are in trouble.

But I lived through it, and now I'm watching Reba. Like our red-headed comic titan sings in her theme song, I'm a survivor.