Randomness ensues
Ah, an enforced day in. It’s raining anyhow, so I don’t mind horribly. I’m forced to stay in because the car finally had to go to the hospital. For four days in a row – the fourth of which was yesterday – I’d tried to make the long trip to Elkin to run errands that can only be run in Elkin, and each day the car sputtered and shook and scared me too much to make the attempt. Finally, yesterday afternoon, I heard it call my name weakly after one, long, shudder and decided to show a little mercy and drive it to the mechanic’s. I like my mechanic. His name is Mark, and he’s very nice. He knows Scott’s out of town, and he told me that if there’s anything he can ever do to help me, to just call him, and he wasn’t being slimy either. He’s just very nice. But when he lifted the hood to make a diagnosis, it was I who pointed out the steam rising up from that kind of black-looking doohickey near the front. The exchange went something like this:
Mark: “Hm, I wonder what’s causing the condensation…”
Me, pointing.
Mark: “Well, look at that,” he said in wonder. “A cracked radiator.”
If I can get Jean to take me over there, I’ll pick the car up later tonight. It’ll be ready around suppertime, Mark says. They call it “suppertime” here in the south. Isn’t that the cutest thing?
Meanwhile, I have a whole long day ahead. Sunday I bit the bullet and painted the first coat of rosy-orange on the last, unpainted wall in the kitchen. If I can hammer out the second coat today, I can finally get the breadmaker, the waffle iron, the crockpot, the big roaster, the cookbooks, and the soup tureen off the dining room table and back where they belong. Currently, the portable dishwasher, the stove, and the refrigerator are standing around awkwardly with their hands in their pockets, blocking the cabinets and drawers and generally making asses of themselves, so I’d like to herd them back against the wall where they belong. Considering our kitchen is about the size of a calendar square, you can imagine how disrupting this two-month long “paint” project has been. It must end here. Today. Just as soon as I’m done writing, and reading, and blogging, and reading your blogs, and commenting, and reading some more, and then having lunch (they call it “dinner” here in the south). Sometime after that.
~
I watched strange movies this weekend. Library movies; you know, the dregs. One was set in Ireland, and featured an all-semi-star cast of American actors playing Irish people, English actors playing Americans, and Joan Plowright. This was very, very confusing to me, but the story was just intriguing enough to keep me watching to find out what happened at the end. I wouldn’t recommend it, though, not in the least. Another one I watched was a subtitled, Spanish film about two lovelorn psychopaths who ended up murdering everyone they met, each more horribly than the last. They ended up dead, shot in the back by a makeshift posse, and left to moulder in a puddle somewhere out in the desert. Trust me, you don’t want to see that one, either. Then I watched Leaving Las Vegas. Do you wonder why I wanted to kill myself on Sunday? (WTET.)
And thus, I leave thee to go a-painting. I’ll see you later, of course. xo
January 31st, 2006 08:40
Breakfast, dinner and supper. That’s how my dad’s family calls it. It can be charming, but it can grate on the nerves when you’re in redneck overload and you’re just dying for sushi or an art museum or a coffee house that plays reggae.
Happy painting.
Hello, Kelly.
January 31st, 2006 08:53
Yep. My mom was from the south. We always ate supper. LOL. And now my kids know it as supper too… Sunday lunch was dinner. All the rest of the week it was lunch.
Nothing new going on around here. I almost wish I had a wall to paint. Alas, I have a house to clean, and that is no fun at all. Probably why the dust is about an inch think on all surfaces - well at least those that aren’t covered with “stuff.”
Love ya Kels!
xoxox
January 31st, 2006 09:04
Monsieur White - did you REALLY need to mention sushi and art museums and reggae-playing coffee houses? I used to live in Portland, where all were prevalent and celebrated and within walking distance of my apartment. Now I’m depressed again, and it’s only TUESDAY.
Is it dinnertime yet?
Hello there, Scottay. xo
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Karen. Did you know that “Karen” is one name I can almost NEVER make a nickname out of? I don’t know why… I’m going to have to call you Sport or something. I know - I’ll call you Scout, since your mama was from the south!
Cleaning the house SUCKS. I actually have “friends” - and I use the term loosely - who adore cleaning the house; LIVE for cleaning the house; will make you late for the MOVIE, cleaning the house. I truly don’t get it. Cleaning the house is the last thing on my list, ever. Obviously, if you came over. People have to really, really love me to brave my house. BUT the kitchen is orange, and that’s always a smile-inducer.
Love you, too, Scout. xo
January 31st, 2006 09:53
I agree on the house cleaning for certain. I have a friend who does enjoy it and who is actually considering letting me pay her to do mine…Eeeexcellent.
January 31st, 2006 10:02
That’s AWESOME, Anne! However, I’m waiting for one of my cleaning-obsessed friends to offer to pay ME to let her clean my house. I know it could happen. I really do like a clean house; it’s just I would rather do a fragillion things besides get it that way.
Most eeexcellent… woops, I dropped some salsa. Where are the dogs?
xo
January 31st, 2006 10:10
Now I’m intrigues. What was this film with the Americans set in Ireland?
January 31st, 2006 10:11
Gorramit. What is it about me and typing? I only ever see my typos after I’ve hit submit.
Ah well, I am intrigues, many intrgiues make me. See, I didn’t make a mistake at all.
January 31st, 2006 10:49
Fence, you are TOTALLY intrigues, so don’t worry about it. And I won’t point out your second “intrgiues” - since remember, I’m not reading anyway. Floo.
Oh MAN, I was HOPING you wouldn’t ask about that movie, because I stretched the truth a little (I know you’re shocked, as I’ve never done that before). Okay, it was called, um, just a minute… I’ll have to check. It was called Widow’s Peak. Jim Broadbent played an Irishman. Mia Farrow played an Irishwoman, as did old Joan. Natasha Richardson played an Englishwoman with an American accent! Whaa? Was this necessary? They gave some stupidass reason for it, which I don’t remember. The rest of the cast were Irish people playing Irish people, but for all I know, and judging by the lead actors, they could have been Hungarian.
The scenery was absolutely stunning, however (Kilshannon, at least that’s what they said, though it could have been Hungary) and made me want to live there. Now. I’m packing. xo
January 31st, 2006 10:56
Well, if I don’t make mistake then I don’t have an excuse to post a second comment giving out about my mistakes now do I?
As for intrgiues, that was totally a test. honest.
As for Widow’s Peak, I have heard of it. Have maybe seen a scene or two, but never watched the whole shebang.
January 31st, 2006 10:56
Oh funny, look at that. I reread that bit in my post about the Irish movie, and it turns out I DIDN’T stretch the truth. So, in my comment to you, Fencicity, I lied about lying. I have SUCH a guilty conscience, apparently.
xo
January 31st, 2006 10:58
No, above all else - it’s important to plump up the comments section so I feel popular. I don’t mind.
Don’t bother with the movie, seriously. There have to be better movies with Americans playing Irish people out there. Like, Gangs of New York!!
Did I pass the test? xo
January 31st, 2006 11:15
My my, I see you have your hands full with those two Irish lasses. I would apologise for unleashing them on you, but they both have a way of making you forget what life was like without them!
Am I the only one curious as to the Spanish movie? Probably.
January 31st, 2006 11:25
Widow’s Peak. I have it. Of course I have it! Chick Flick AND a twist at the end, with Good Production Values (and GARDENS!), you know I gotta have it!
You didn’t like it when Joan P almost ran down the old guy, and he’s shaking his cane at her, and she’s placidly observing in typical JP fashion something like, “What a lot of life he has left in him!”
Ok, well, I thought it was very funny!
My cousin explained the Presedence of Meal Titles in the South to me:
Lunch is called Dinner.
Dinner is called Supper.
And anything after 6pm is a Midnight Snack!
January 31st, 2006 12:17
Yes, FM, I’d be sending you a prize for tossing them my way, but I’m already two prizes behind with you - as well as a letter - so I’ve decided to just roll over and give up. But I DO thank you. You can name your baby after me, if you want.
Deep Crimson was the title. It was actually compelling; I just wouldn’t recommend it to the masses. Considering your dark side (I know, I mention that ad nauseam, but it’s something I like about you), it might be right up your dark alley. xo
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Chrissy, it was funny when she said that; I chuckled. But otherwise, I didn’t really like the movie. It was just okay. I only like Mia Farrow with Woody Allen hanging around her neck, like THAT’S gonna happen again. Ffhth. And I was hoping Liam Neesan (sp) would show up. He DIDN’T. Boo.
And sweet tea is the nectar of the gods. Especially if sipped from a weeping glass, out on the front porch, by firefly light on a summer’s eve. Seated in manma’s rocker. Mm-boy. xo
January 31st, 2006 12:37
Oh, and I almost forgot….
I’m officially challenging you.
No pressure, but I’d love to see what you’d come up with.
January 31st, 2006 12:41
On the story thingaling? Oh my word, the pressure. GREAT. Now I have flop sweat. Hmm, though - I’ll see what I can do. xo
January 31st, 2006 12:50
Meant to mention that the “regular people of Ireland have their dinners in the middle of the day” or so said one politician giving out about … sorry, interupted by a string of flashing lights and cops zooming by my window, where was I?
Oh yeah, the politician was giving out about changing lifestyles. Course this was maybe 10 years ago? I don’t think anyone has their dinner in the middle of the day anymore.
January 31st, 2006 13:50
Fence-o, I appreciate people who take the time to write out their distractions, while they’re in the middle of being distracted, as that makes life about 67% more fun for the rest of us. And I’m not being remotely sarcastic.
Who ARE these regular people everybody talks about? I like to think I’m one, but what if, instead, I’m *shudder subnormal? Not even abnormal, but somehow below? Oh, what do I care. Politicians are a strange breed anyway, and I rarely believe a word they say. Any of them. Ever. All the regular people feel the same way.
Don’t you think movies and TV are the great equalizers? xo
January 31st, 2006 14:45
Oh I loathe Oirish movies with non-Oirish people trying to do Oirish accents! That’s why I watched approx 5 mins of said movie.
And my parents eat breakfast, then dinner then tea. “Tea”.. They think I have ideas above my station as I only ever consume lunch at lunchtime and dinner at dinnertime. But I don’t prepare it all in an orange kitchen. Bad luck on the car, hope it’s feeling better soon. send it a kiss from me xx
January 31st, 2006 16:47
I’m glad you are going to finish your kitchen. That would drive me crazy! I’m all about getting things done so that the emotional baggage doesn’t weigh on me.
Oh, and if you are going to pick a Spanish film, pick a decent one. Wait, was it really Spanish, or just Spanish-speaking? The Sea Inside is a good Spanish film. You should give it a try.
January 31st, 2006 17:15
Thought it must be Widow’s Peak. Tis by Hugh Leonard, who reduced me to tears of laughter in a collection of his newspaper columns my dad had. Also wrote movingly about his collection of cats in ‘Rover and other cats.’ I think he had Mia in it because he had such a huge(hugh) crush on her. And cos her momma was Maureen O’Sullivan, from Boyle in the county of Roscommon, near where me and Fencing Stolen Goods (her name in Chinese) come from. Not to be confused with Maureen O’Hara who was in the best Irish/Oirish fillum ever (as long as you regard it as fantasy and not reality), The Quiet Man.
And we always had our breakfast, lunch and dinner, with supper being something like milk and toast (to make sure we didn’t starve to death in our sleep - a hangover from the Great Famine). But on weekends, we sometimes had breakfast, dinner and tea, tea being a lunchlike meal served in the evening. But then my mother’s people had notions so that’s probably why we were posh enough to eat lunch. Not like common folk like Fence’s family…
January 31st, 2006 17:37
Oh, me too, Clare. Me, too. But it’s probably because I’m jealous, because I cannot for the LIFE of me affect a good Irish accent. This saddens me more than you can ever know. The only good accent I can do is Count Chocula (I vant to sahck yorrr blahd), and that’s negligible. I’m pretty sure I don’t even speak American correctly. I should probably just give up and be mute.
I finished the kitchen, so that is THAT. It looks great, or will once I put everything back in its place. The car turned out nifty; only squeaking under $200, which I thought was very reasonable. I could be completely deluded about this, but whatevah. I’ll still give it a kiss for you, even though it’s well now. xo
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Jenns, I’m laughing, because I would love to be all about SOMETHING, gorramit. I was just talking to Jesse about this, believe it or not, and we came to the conclusion that he’s all about truth. I don’t know what I’m all about. Sigh. Oh well. Lala.
I TOTALLY want to see The Sea Inside!!! The only reason I chose the other one is because there’s slim pickins at the library by Friday. I may have to veer off my schedule and pick my Pamper Friday movies on Thursday. Oh, and it was Spanish, as everybody in the world who made it was Spanish. Oh, and French. But mostly Spanish. I like watching subtitled movies. They make me feel extremely intelligent, even when they’re gruesome, psychopathic, murder films. xo
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Nines, I was seriously about to have a heart attack, because at first I thought you were saying Mia was Maureen O’Hara’s daughter, and I’d never heard that. Maureen O’Sullivan… sounds familiar… is she an actress? I’ll have to Imdb her.
Maureen O’Hara is THE most beautiful woman in the world, and continues to be even though she’s old; unless she’s dead but I don’t think she is… As far as The Quiet Man goes, I loved it up until the part where John Wayne dragged her all the way across country; which is when I started screaming and throwing things at the screen I was so mad at him. I probably have issues I need to discuss with my therapist.
I have a Chinese name, too, according to my friend Roddy, who shows up here occasionally. It’s Kelly Lynn Lowe. If you say it fast, you might see why.
Okay, if you had breakfast, lunch, dinner AND supper, when did all these meals take place? I mean, at what times of day? Is it like the hobbits, and their elevenses? And my mind is boggling over the fact that you had dinner, and then tea in the evening, but it was like lunch. I don’t think I would survive in Ireland; I just can’t figure out mealtimes. I’d starve to death. It would take me a good, long, while, but I’d eventually succumb.
Posh. I know what that means, and I ain’t it. xo
January 31st, 2006 17:45
Wait, and I forgot to say: you are totally spoiling for a fight with Fence. Do I need to come over there and separate you two? Do I?
January 31st, 2006 17:52
I’m all about food, gorramit! Maybe you could be too? Or chocolate. The Sea Inside is certainly good. It made me miss home so much, although it’s about a different part of Spain. If you like subtitled movies, check out L’Alberge Espagnole. It takes place in Barcelona, has Audrey Tautou in it and is just wonderful!
January 31st, 2006 18:03
Okay, I will. I really do like foreign films. I fell in LOVE with Gerard Depardieu in Jean de Florette, though I no longer find him attractive, poor guy. Obviously his loss.
You’re all about pasta and chocolate. I can be that, too. I forgot all about food. I could be all about X-Files, and/or Arrested Development, too. There are SO many things I can be all about, and I owe it all to you Jenn, for reminding me. All my love, me xo
January 31st, 2006 18:19
Me and NM don’t fight. I just put her in her place every now and then
But seriously folks *lowers tone of voice* slagging people off in Ireland means you are friends. And that you don’t mean it. Unless you are enemies and totally do mean it.
But if people are fairly polite to each other it means they don’t know each other well.
January 31st, 2006 19:59
Kelly - My momma wasn’t from Alabama! Not even the deep South. Scout. Guess it coulda been worse - like Atticus…
Jenn - my daughter loves Audrey Tautou. We obviously watch movies with subtitles at our house! Isn’t she supposed to play Sophie in The Da Vinci Code?
January 31st, 2006 20:24
Fence, okay, there’s another reason I feel so comfortable talking to you. In my family, to insult equals love. Politeness is for strangers, and idiots. I’m at my best when my tongue is sharp, but unfortunately, not all my friends feel that way. Not EVERYONE has Irish blood here; too bad for them. And me, sometimes, because I offend at least one person per day.
This conversation is making me suddenly miss my family, all the way across the country from me. xo
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Karen top, I wish MY name was Atticus. I’m going to call you Scout in my mind, so’s you can’t hear me. Better that than Boo, eh? xo
January 31st, 2006 22:01
Rainy days are the best to spend painting and drinking hot coffee and freshly baked cake! Don’t believe me? I was watching The Stroll the other day. It is strange, I have to right a review about it.
February 1st, 2006 01:16
At this point, I would LOVE a long day stretched out before me with nothing whatsoever to do…
February 1st, 2006 02:44
gah, you can see the zillion errors in that comment I typed in a jiffy during what was supposed to be with 100% concentration study *rolls eyes*.
I hope you had a lovely day!!
February 1st, 2006 06:13
You don’t speak American properly eh? Well I am Welsh and can’t speak my own language at all….for shame! Though since I married my husband, I have acquired a “fake” Irish surname (so said a proper Oirish person)….
February 1st, 2006 06:17
I can’t speak any language properly today. Ja, das Stimmt!
February 1st, 2006 07:48
Kelly, I really liked your Tomasexual remark, so i’ve quoted you on my brand spanking new quote collection site.
But if you’d prefer not to be quoted let me know, and I’ll delete.
February 1st, 2006 09:59
Kassi, may you get to stretch out on this day before you. Maybe on the couch, or your bed. Either one.
xo
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Aanksy, I keep telling you guys: I don’t read what you write! Fuggedaboudit!
I hope you have a great day too. I think of you as full of sunshine. xo
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Clare de loon, when I was in Wales I brought home a newspaper, just to gaze lovingly at the incomprehensible, consonant-laden words. Do you even HAVE vowels there? I’m just saying.
Oirish, indeed. xo
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Fencer, I’ve been quoting myself ever since i first wrote “Tomosexual” because I thought it was a stroke of genius. Just BRILLIANT. So, of course I want you to quote me! I’m honored and delighted! I would like a little money, too, though.
xo
February 1st, 2006 14:07
See Kelly (lowers voice conspiratorially), I have to keep being friends with Fence because she’s the only person I know who owns the DVD sets I can’t afford to buy. And because she has a handily located flat in Dublin that is right around the corner from the place I’ll be going to college in October. And because I’ve put up with her shite for the past ten years, so I may as well put up with it for another wee while. At least til she makes out a will in my favour.
And Tomosexual was a work of genius. Truly. If you leave nothing else behind you on this planet, that one will live on.
May 28th, 2008 22:02
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