— Hope, after she finishes her Fancy Feast, drags the famous banana-toy over and places it in the bowl. I have no idea why she does it and it makes me laugh, although it is making the banana very grimy. It’s like the feline equivalent of putting your napkin in your plate when you’re done eating.
— Allison introduced me to a show on Animal Planet called “Jockeys” which I am now addicted to. Because I don’t have television, this presents a problem. But great show. An ongoing series, following 5 or 6 jockeys. A whole world I knew nothing about.
— I had my first mammogram this week, and found myself near tears as I approached the radiology place. I felt very alone and nervous, and my boobs were about to be squashed into a machine, and maybe it would hurt, and what if the results were bad, and I had no idea what to expect. The X-ray technician (I will never forget you, lady) knew it was my first time and walked me through it, and she couldn’t have been nicer. The entire time she was smushing my boobs this-a way and that-a way, she was talking on about how much she loved Diana (as in Princess Diana) and how she was the “people’s princess” and what a shame what had happened, and also Diana looked Irish, didn’t I think so? She had red cheeks, and fair skin, and she seemed like a very nice person, and it was all just so sad what had happened. I am not saying that X-ray technician babbled on like this on purpose, to keep me focused and relaxed, but I am not discounting the possibility. I was very thankful. She also said to me, before we went in the room, “Is there any possibility – any at all – that you are pregnant.” I fired back, “Not even the tiniest chance.” “Good.” I was out of there in an hour, boobs a bit sore, but no worse for wear. Thank you, kindly, X-ray technician lady.
— I went to a party this week at Babeland (Google it at your own risk), and at one point I was walking around the store, with my arms full of potential purchases. As you can imagine, if you already know what Babeland is, I looked ridiculous, but no more ridiculous than everyone else at the party. A photographer came up to me (obviously an event photographer – boy had major hardware around his neck) and said, “Can I take your picture?” I said, “Where is the picture going to go?” He said, rather snotty, “Honey, it’s gonna go everywhere.” Don’t call me ‘honey’. I may have wild red hair and be wearing big black boots and lugging around an armful of lascivious paraphernalia, but I am actually a Victorian-era Gibson Girl at heart and you have to earn the right to call me “honey”, mkay? Preferably after we are engaged. I said, “Then absolutely No, you cannot take my picture.” He said, “Everyone else is fine with having their picture taken.” I decided to try to take the edge off of our exchange, and joked with him, “Yes, but they aren’t as FAMOUS as I am. I am EXTREMELY famous and I cannot risk being seen holding all of this stuff. It would put me in a very compromising position.” He was blank. He didn’t get it. I said, kidding with him, “Don’t you know who I am??” He backed away from me in fear and also loathing … because some people loathe that which they cannot understand … and stayed far away from me for the rest of the night. Oh well, you can’t win ’em all. Some people think I am very funny.
— I am working on all kinds of projects and I can feel myself getting scattered. I took a 3-hour nap today and that is so not like me.
— My sister Jean’s pregnant belly is so big that apparently, her husband Pat walks into the room, and constantly sees Jean standing in front of the mirror, staring at herself. Much hilarity ensues. I can’t wait to see her!
— I went over to Allison’s last night, and I had all this SHIT to tell her, and she said, “Okay, shoot. I am perfectly prepared to not talk for the next two hours, except to ask questions.” I love her.
— Ghost Town is a fantastic movie. A good old-fashioned comedy for ADULTS – like they used to make in the 30s and 40s (it is reminiscent of Cary Grant in Topper – an analogy I obviously am not the first one to make) – with three charming smart leads … it’s just a delight. I kept waiting for it go off the rails, and become schmaltzy or didactic, and miracle of miracles, it never did. Highly recommended.
— And speaking of Ricki Gervais, he is going to be appearing on Sesame Street, and I’m sure many of you have already seen this, but below the jump is outtakes from the show – an interview Elmo did with Gervais. It is absolutely hysterical. I love the bit about the pajamas.
/Don’t you know who I am??”/
It’s killing me — just imagining this whole scenario.
I know! hahahaha He so didn’t get that I was kidding – and was like, “Uhm, let me get the hell away from THIS crazy person.”
Oh, I love the Babeland exchange. Especially this going through your head:
“I may have wild red hair and be wearing big black boots and lugging around an armful of lascivious paraphernalia, but I am actually a Victorian-era Gibson Girl at heart and you have to earn the right to call me “honey”, mkay? Preferably after we are engaged.”
The imagery is awesome.
Ha!! Seriously, looks can be deceiving. BACK OFF, tabloid man!!!!
I caught “Ghost Town” a few weeks ago and thought it was terrific, I’ve been recommending it to everyone, although they mostly yawn since it wasn’t a big name movie. Too bad it flopped at the box office, it deserved a big audience.
Pat – yes – great movie! Rent it, Netflix it everyone – it’s a real find!!
You can watch Jockeys on Animal Planet’s web site:
http://animal.discovery.com/videos/jockeys/index.html
Mark – seriously.
Is there anything you cant do?
I’m seriously asking. I’m an idiot.
I just know that a lot of channels are putting their shows online these days. Please tell me that you at least know about hulu.com.
hahahahahahahahaa
Yes, I love Hulu. I just am still caught in an old mindset … I don’t think to look online FIRST.
“Back off, man with camera. I’m a rock star in Armenia.”
Seriously. I am HUGE in Chad.
I posted a RG clip at my place last week. You’ll pee your pants, I promise.
So I watched that Elmo clip. And scrolling along almost unnoticed at the bottom:
Sexy Baltic Ladies
Single ladies from Baltic countries are looking for love
That was so incongruous, with that little cute puppet and his childish voice, to have Sexy Baltic Ladies flashing underneath him.
And then:
Princess Diana Jewelry
came next. Not so odd, but still. The ads were reading your blog.
Lastly:
Unread love messages –
There are new secret love messages waiting for you
If only Google Ads knew!!!
Isn’t that like the stuff creepy science fiction is made of: THE ADS ARE READING YOUR BLOG
Sheila was a Victorian Gibson Girl at heart. Little did she know, the ads were reading her blog.
In Chad.
And Angola.
Where she is very famous.
And now, about to made even more famous still.
COMING SOON TO A THEATRE NEAR YOU!
Carrie – the ads are reading my blog – hahahahahaha!!!!
Oh, the things I want to write about right now!
This is somehow making me think of that Jeff Donovan ad and you thinking I was pointing to the search term about the 118B bus or whatever it was – still one of the funniest conversations ever had in the history of my blog.
“How do I get to Sheila’s blog?”
“Just take the 118B bus!”
That bus is everywhere!!!
What’s Hulu? Seriously…
Well…you ARE famous!
The country Chad was one of the answers in the Sunday crossword puzzle this morning. The clue should have been “One place where Sheila is famous.”
I love your mammogram lady. She reminds me of a story…forgive me for babbling for a moment:
It was two days after Princess Diana had died. I was meeting a friend for dinner, I parked my car outside her apartment (which was on Los Feliz Boulevard — a very very busy street in LA, it’s on a hill), then I went inside to get my friend. We’re in her apartment for about thirty minutes — then we walk outside to my car…and it isn’t where I remember parking it. But we figure maybe I parked a little further up the hill…we’re busy talking so we aren’t paying attention to the traffic on Los Feliz Boulevard…we keep walking, until finally I’m like: “there’s no way I parked this high up the hill.” Something’s wrong, where’s my car?
Finally, we stop gabbing and we notice all of the traffic…and that’s when we look down at the bottom of the hill and see my car on the other side of the street, embedded into a parked car, completely blocking an entire lane of traffic (causing the huge traffic jam).
We make our way down the hill, through the traffic, across the street, to my car — just as the owner of the car my car hit has come out of her apartment to discover the accident (thank god no one got hurt — in my head, the imagine of my car rolling down the hill across four lanes of traffic…it must have looked like a game of FROGGER).
I go up to the woman who owns the car my car hit (her car actually didn’t have much damage — mine took the brunt of the hit — but it’s still a startling sight to see the two cars together like that). I start telling her how sorry I am, I must have forgotten to put the car into park, etc., and then the owner of the other car says: “I just heard about Princess Diana…” and then she bursts into tears and says: “…AND NOW THIS.”
Oh my God, Erik, I am laughing so hard!!!!