Twisty

I Have Something in Common with Cooter

Apparently Ben Jones (Cooter of television’s “Dukes of Hazzard”) is none too excited to see the new Dukes movie, calling it “a sleazy insult.”

(Well, it ain’t like the original was "Masterpiece Theater.")

In any case, this got me to thinking about other movies I have no interest in seeing:

• Anything featuring Madonna – even if it’s only a walk-on role
• The inevitable (and utterly tasteless) 9/11 movie that will come out about 30-40 years from now featuring the starlet du jour -- just in time for my grown children to learn what "really" happened that day
• Battleship Earth 2
• Sophie’s Choice – The Musical!
• Pretty much anything where a plucky pre-adolescent or grouchy grownup learns the true meaning of Christmas
• Films featuring talking babies (The only exception is if they make a “Family Guy” movie.)
• Any addition to the Rob Zombie filmography
• Any film featuring any/all of the following lines:
  “Hold. My. Hand! Don’t. Let. Goooooo!”
  “Just try to stay alive!!!”
  “I won’t let you die.”

What about you?

Tell Me Lies, Tell Me Sweet Little Lies

Looks like today’s topic is “White Lies I’ve Told My Significant Other.” Thanks to the Divas for this wonderful opportunity.

Admittedly I’m kinda new to this sort of thing, so if I commit some sort of big ol’ breech in link etiquette, it certainly is by no means intended.

Now, on with the lies...(Muh. Ha. Ha. Ha. Haaaaah!)

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The $25 Rule

“You mind if I blog this?” is a pretty common phrase in the McGuinness house, so this was a tough assignment.

Me: Hey honey, I’m doing this Divas thing tomorrow for Christina. The theme is “White Lies I Tell My Significant Other.”

Mr. Surly: Oh really? What are you going to write about?

Me: Well, I can only think of one.

Mr. Surly: What?

Me: Well, every time I tell you how much I pay for something, I round it down by $25.

Mr. Surly: Really?

Me: Sometimes you think in 1970’s prices, so I always thought it’s a way to stop the sticker shock. I view this safety measure as heart attack prevention.

Mr. Surly: Oh. (Pause) OK. (Smiles and goes back to surfing the Internet.)

Me: Guess it’s not a white lie anymore, huh?

Julio!

The only other thing I can think of is, Mr. Surly will come home and ask (after some huggies and smoochies), “Hey, what did you do today?” And, I’ll say something along the lines of, “Well, Julio came over for the afternoon. He vacuumed the house, washed all the dishes, then gave me a foot rub. Isn’t he great?”

As you may have already guessed, Julio is my fake love-ah. (Spelled phonetically in the Carrie Bradshaw, “Sex and the City” way.)

However, that’s probably less about white lies and more about extorting a foot rub from my husband.

Admittedly, I have told a fair share of fib-eroos to fellas I have dated. Here were some of the typical ones:

“No, really, this pasta is the best!”

If some kind fella busts his bootie trying to cook you a romantic dinner, you damn well better appreciate his efforts even if it means you have to choke down some nasty, nasty stuff in the name of love. (You can always sneak in a McDonald’s drive-thru trip on your way home.)

“Alan, I just I loooooove your mom.”

I once dated this guy, Alan, whose mother had a strange quirk. She would only talk to me through her son.

Alan’s Mom: So, why don’t you ask TJ what her major is?

Alan: Mom, she’s sitting right next to you. Your butts are touching on the couch, for God’s sake.

Alan’s Mom: (Deadpan) Just ask her.

I few that as penance, cause I totally lucked out in the Mother-in-Law lottery. (Mother Surly is the best!)

“Of course I missed you!”

This came as the reply whenever a fella asked me if I missed him when he returned from a trip.

The God’s honest truth is: I didn’t miss him because I was having too much fun being by myself. Chances are, I spent the time eating popcorn for dinner or drinking beer while chatting with Sarah on the phone for three hours or watching 1992's “The Cutting Edge” on TBS for the 38th time or re-reading every book I own on Elizabeth I or mastering my Tuscan bean soup recipe. In short, I didn’t have time to miss you. I was just too busy enjoying myself.

So, there you have it.

Let’s see how other fine folks weigh in on the topic. (I promise to post permalinks as soon as they emerge.)

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Demystifying Divas

Sadie knocks it out of the park with this take on Lies. Silk aka "The Sassy Diva" will throw in her excellent two cents. Delightfully Snarky Kathy will weigh in. And Shiela will step in as Guest Diva extroardinare, as Christina takes a much needed break to take care of some stuff. (Yeah, I know I'm late to the game but this is the first time I've come across Shiela's stuff. I'll definitely be back!)

The Men's Club

Despite the early hour he posted (Oy!), The Wizard managed to post some great stuff. (Certainly I'm not surprised. "My old girlfriend..." Ha!) Fin is bound to have some goodies. So, stay tuned. Puffy will jump in with some words of wisdom. And, we'll also get to hear what whoppers Naked Villiany has told.

The Jackson Verdict

Methinks everyone will be blogging about this today. Nevertheless I wanted to put my two cents in.

Last evening before going to bed, I caught one of the (likely many) interviews with the group of jurors who heard the Michael Jackson case.

A continuing refrain was, “Well, we just wanted to treat him like any other guy.”

Oh, really?

So, if your average Joe (or Jane):

• Admittedly slept in the same bed as young boys
• Repeatedly maintained intimate friendships with young children – even calling them in the wee hours of the morning just to chat
• Had a series of elaborate bedroom security measures to prevent people from sneaking in
• Was accused by more than one child of sexual misconduct

you would still say “not guilty” on all charges, right?

I don’t think so.

Anyone who says Mr. Jackson’s celebrity didn’t play a role in the “not guilty” verdict is woefully mistaken.

I tend to subscribe to the “Where there’s Smoke, there’s Fire” theory. However, I wasn’t a juror. No matter how I feel to the contrary, Mr. Jackson has had his day in court. The opinion of those 12 people is ultimately the one that matters.

The word is that he’s now planning a “Jackson 5” tour with his brothers. (Guess the “back trouble” he experienced all through the proceedings is no longer a factor, huh?)

One would hope he would just lie low. Sell Neverland. Stay out of the public eye. And, for God’s sake, stay away from other people’s children.

An Open Letter to Tom Cruise

I thought I would share with you all my little open letter to Tom Cruise.

Dear Mr. Cruise,

I like you. You seem like a nice enough guy. Also, you’re a fine actor. (Just to clarify, I’m talking about Born on the Fourth of July and Magnolia not, say, some of your more recent flicks like The Last Samurai and Mission Impossible II.)

So, I hope you’ll heed my request:

Kindly stop trying to fool the public into thinking you have a romance with twentysomething Katie Holmes.

Stop gushing about your love on Oprah.

Stop staging corny “We’re So Into Each Other” photos for the press.

Mr Cruise, I am so on to you.

Trust me. You’re big box office. Spielberg-directed War of the Worlds will make a crap-load of money. You don’t need to stage some elaborate romantic charade to get media coverage. You’re Tom Cruise, for God’s sake!

I only allowed myself to follow your last romance with Penelope Cruz because I thought it would be fun if you got married and she hyphenated: Penelope Cruz-Cruise. Hee!

In any case, stop the insanity. Date who you want, not who your publicist tells you to. Or lay around at home counting your money. Your call.

Very truly yours,
TJ

(Photo Credit: Marco Iacobucci / EPA via Sipa Press)

So, Am I Missing Something Here?

So, I get this frantic call from my mother in law last night. Thankfully, nothing urgent. Her heart has been racing at night and her doctor recommended she do a sleep study.

Mr. Surly is out of town. (Woo hoo! Single girl in the hoooouse!) So, I’m on driving duty.

Basically I have to drop her off at 9 p.m. tonight and pick her up at 6 a.m. SHARP tomorrow. (BOING!)

I can’t complain. This is the same lady whose bootie we rousted out of bed in the wee hours of the morning to drive over to our house and fax over our marriage certificate, so the good people at England's Gatwick airport would let me get on the damn plane back to the states. In short, we owe her one.

For those of you unfamiliar, basically a sleep study is just as it sounds. You go to a place. They cover you up with all forms of electrodes and you hit the hay. The best part is, you get to sleep in a real bed. No drugs. Nothing crazy. Basically you’re paying them to watch you sleep. Then, the next morning the on-site supercomputers spit out some exciting data about what a fine (or lousy) sleeper you are.

Now, here’s the kicker.

The place won’t allow you to drive yourself there. It is absolutely mandatory that you get someone else to drive you. (Hence, my participation.)

My question is…why?

Dude: You’re going there with the purpose of getting a full night’s rest.

Don’t you think someone would, say, be alert and refreshed enough to drive?!?

These are crazy times we’re living in…

21 Pearls of Wisdom

Looks like Dash may have inadvertently started a meme with his 21 pieces of advice. Dad picked up on it and I just thought it was too good a topic to pass up.

TJ’s 21 Pearls of Wisdom

#1: If you lose / break something of someone else’s, replace it – to the best of your ability – immediately. And don’t make a big show about it.

#2: If 80’s hair band Nelson’s “Love and Affection” comes on your car radio, while driving through a rough neighborhood, roll up the windows before bursting into song. (Trust me. I know this from experience.)

#3: Never buy cheap toilet paper; it will only make you unhappy.

#4: If an elderly person is telling you a story, don’t cut them off, even if you’ve heard it a million times before. Let them enjoy sharing a part of their lives with you.

#5: No matter how much you try to convince them to the contrary: if your family and friends don’t like your boyfriend, there’s an almost 100% chance he’s an asshole. Dump him. Post haste.

#6: If you ever try something on and ask yourself, “Do I look a little chunky in this?”, don’t buy it. Get something else that makes you feel comfortable and foxy.

#7: Never hesitate to say “I’m sorry.” Even if you didn’t do something wrong, you may have hurt someone’s feelings along the way. Apologies never make you look like a chump.

#8: Whoever tells you that g-strings are comfortable is lying.

#9: Never speak disparagingly to a telemarketer, service person or customer service rep. How would you like getting paid minimum wage to deal with difficult people all day?

#10: Learn the usage of your/you’re, its/it’s and their/there/they’re. My recruiter friend tells me these are often used as a writing skills barometer during the interview process.

#11: Play Boggle. It’s the best game ever!

#12: Be mindful of what you say on a cell phone. It’s bad enough that I have to listen to you conduct a private conversation. However, do I really need to know about that guy your niece is dating, the juicy details of your divorce proceedings and the scoop on your recurring yeast infection?

#13: Think very, very, very carefully before agreeing to be in a friend’s wedding. If you hesitate even for a microsecond at the thought of parting with several hundred dollars and your sanity on behalf of this person, immediately and politely decline.

#14: It’s never the wrong time to drink a glass of red wine.

#15: Some of the best and worst evenings have started with the prophetic phrase, “Let’s do tequila shots!”

#16: It’s perfectly okay to like the Olive Garden. (I do!) Just don’t believe for even a second that the recipe for the Stuffed Chicken Marsala was lovingly crafted by a spirited, cottage-dwelling Italian grandmother in the rolling hills of Tuscany.

#17: Always take every, blessed day of vacation your company grants to you. You’ll live longer.

#18: You always have it better than you think you do.

#19: If you have to go to a warehouse store (e.g. Sam’s Club) on a Saturday, be waiting out there the minute it opens. Otherwise, bring some valium and your anger management workbook.

#20: Call your mom at least once a week.

#21: You can never have too many books, good recipes, comfortable shoes or kind words.

What Do Your Accountant and The Rolling Stones Have in Common?

So, it’s tax day. Yay! (/Sarcasm)

In any case, here’s another reason to snarl when you hear the word “accountant.”

Apparently accountants are the new rock stars.

Due to a labor shortage, these dear number crunchers are being hired in droves. Recruiters are on a rampage. Companies just can’t throw enough money and benefits at these people.

First the urgent need for tech folks (late 90’s), now accountants (mid ‘00’s) …I’m beginning to kick myself for getting that degree in English. (But hey, at least I'll always have something in common with these folks.)

Language Abuse

I am a lover of language. That’s why it burns me to hear words used and abused, stripping them of their original meaning and punch.

Let me give you the top two most awful abuses of language I’ve seen of late:

Fierce (adj.): having a savage of violent nature. (syn. cruel)

You can thank Tyra Banks for this one. The people on “America’s Next Top Model” use this almost as much as the word “the.” Mostly they use it when they want the girl to look exotic and just a little bit sexy. (Stylist to aspiring model, who is hosted up in the air, dressed as a sign of the zodiac and sporting a bra and panty combo from Warnaco: “Work that harness! You are looking fierce!”) Now, this little word has creeped into our every day language.

A word once used to describe things like terrorists and murders will soon be thrown around suburbia. (“Wow! These brownies will look fierce on my Easter table!” / “Tylenol is on sale? Fierce!”)

Ugh.

Diva (n): an operatic prima donna or a very successful singer of nonoperatic music

Essentially it’s a woman (typically a singer) who has a reputation for being demanding -- but through talent, hard work and experience, has earned that right.

For example, Aretha Franklin is a great example of a diva. Yeah, she freaks out if the air conditioning is on and likes to sip Evian water out of silver cups. However, at the end of the day, she delivers, giving audiences more than their money’s worth.

That’s right. A diva.

Now, divas are used to describe everything from strippers, book-loving women, transgendered nightclubs, fine Indian cuisine, and onesies, to shows featuring Jessica Simpson. Trust me. I could go on forever.

Please pardon me, divas. I’m off to make a fierce cup of coffee!

Technology

The following is an excerpt from an actual conversation that I just had with my Dad.

After reading Dad's blog, where he mentioned recovering from an infection, I gave him a call.

Me: Hey! How are you? Are you okay?

Dad: Well, I'm feeling a bit better. Taking meds. Resting. Should be up and running in a few days.

Me: Yeah, I just read your blog and heard you were under the weather --

Dad: Really? You read it on the blog? Oh, man. Wait 'til I tell your mother that.

Me: Looks like I'm a little late to the game. 14 comments, huh? I suck.

Yep. Won't be winning "Daughter of the Year" anytime soon.

Terri Schiavo

The Terri Schiavo case is absolutely heartbreaking.

Over the past few days, I have found myself sickened and saddened by attempts to politicize this tragic situation.

This is not about Democrats or Republicans or even God. It’s about caring people trying desperately to interpret and act on a loved one’s wishes. 

Mrs. Schiavo’s family isn’t a “pawn” for the “Christian right.” They are simply people who believe their daughter/sister wants – regardless of her awful circumstances – to live.

Mr. Schiavo isn’t a monster. He’s a man who has tried (for close to 15 years) to follow – what he believes to be – his wife’s wishes.

One of the saddest things to me, though, involves the removal of her nourishment tubes, as far as I am aware, the only legal option available to care givers. Having her suffer one to two weeks of starvation and dehydration before she expires seems inhumane and barbaric. Even death row inmates are guaranteed a swifter and more painless passage.

My heart goes out to everyone involved.

Resources
- For information on Advanced Directives (aka “Living Wills) for New Jersey residents, click here for a link to the NJ Department of Health and Senior Services.
- For general information on Advanced Directives from the American Academy of Family Physicians, click here.