Dreams, Angelina Jolie, and Jello

And Now for Something Totally Different

Politically-free Day

For my friends who are tired of me writing about nothing but politics, I thought that I would take a break since I seem to be alienating my Texan readers (you know who you are) . . .

I woke myself up this morning while doing my nails in my sleep. Now while that may seem odd to some of you, there are those of you who will find this completely normal for me. I was having this wonderfully wild dream in which I had stopped by my favorite nail salon to paint my nails myself (I know, this makes no sense), and I was painting them a truly fugly shade of beige, something I would never do. Believe me when I say that I am a RED woman: garnet red, blood red, ruby red, “Woman in Love” red (one of my favorite shades), and then the darker shades of red once the weather cools. I do not do beiges or neutrals. Unfortunately, due to the economic downturn that began at our house months before the NYSE plummeted, I have been unable to keep up my nail fix for months, so I have finally begun to dream about having long nails again. I suppose the fugly color that I was painting them was to bring myself back to reality. However, the funny part was that I woke up with my right hand in the air and my left hand moving a pretend polish brush over my nails. Ah, que sera, sera . . . whatever.

Angelina Jolie Makes it Hard for the Rest of Us

I was reading an article online about La Jolie that was accompanied by pictures taken by none other than her love (who was my love first; he just did not know it). The pictures were black and whites of A. aprés the twins, and of course, she looks absolutely lovely. In the article she talks about how Brad wanted to capture her changing body after giving birth and how he accepts all of the changes in her and how wonderful that is. I only mention this because the pictures were not retouched, and several were close-ups, and of course, it is terribly hard to see these changes of which she speaks.

I have always found Jolie to be one of the most sensuous women on the planet earth. There is just something about her that I find terribly compelling, and it’s not the lips; it’s in her eyes. Her eyes are ageless. They have seen things. I have always been partial to men and women with dark hair and eyes for the most part. Jennifer Aniston is pretty, but she does not seem to have depth. Brad was always pretty, but he did not seem nearly as interesting until he found Jolie. Now that he is older and has crinkles around his eyes, he seems to have much more gravitas.

But I digress . . . The thing about Angelina Jolie, for me at least, is that she is so much more than a face or a body, and so it shows in her face. No makeup, head covered by a scarf, t-shirt, or completely decked out for the red carpet. It doesn’t matter. Her eyes reflect a very old soul.

From the Exquisite to the Mundane

I’m trying to break myself of my ice cream habit, so I’m eating more jello. I had forgotten how much I like jello, and how few calories are in one of those little snack cups. Of course, if you eat two snack cups at a time, it kind of defeats the purpose of the calories, but hey, I’m trying here. The problem is Corey. It’s really his fault. You see, when he fixes me a bowl of ice cream, he won’t make just a small portion. He makes these great big portions and pours on lots of caramel or chocolate topping, so I’m blaming all of the calories on him. Does apportioning the calories also transfer the calories?

My Space Versus Face Book

Dilemma: Friends who are opening Face Book accounts when I already have a My Space account? I’ve had a My Space account for about two years now. I finally have it set up just the way I want it. I have my music players set up; all of the fonts are finally the correct size. I finally got around to putting my pictures in different folders and labeling them, and I even created a slideshow.

Now Jammi and Mari have set up Face Book accounts. Traitors!!The only way I can look at their FB accounts is if I open an account too, and because I’m so anal, I won’t be able to just set up a half-assed account. I’ll have to go in and set up a real page with everything, and if I set up a real page with everything, then I’ll have another page that I have to check everyday, and if I have another page that I have to check everyday, then I’ll never get any writing done. Oh it sucks to be me *&@(!

It Really Is Fall in Naw-Fick

Wouldn’t you know it that if I wrote (several weeks ago) that we never have a real fall around here, we would  actually have more than two weeks of wonderfully temperate weather? I’ll have to remember this and write the same thing before spring. We’ve actually had weeks of weather that’s been in the 70’s with light winds and sunshine. I know that I’m taking a big chance in actually writing about this, probably jinxing myself. I’ll probably regret even acknowledging that this is happening, but it’s been so wonderful that I wanted to thank the weather gods for such manna.

The air conditioner has been off for weeks. The nights are in the 50’s. The dogs are pleasantly sunning themselves in the backyard (except for the horizontally tall one who refuses to leave my side for more than a few moments at a time; as I type, he is quietly snoring by my feet). I see more and more mums in bloom all around the neighborhood (along with lots of McCain/Palin yard signs; alas, it is a predominantly Republican neighborhood). High school football games keep getting postponed because of gang threats. My next-door neighbor is putting a new room on her house, which gives her a new excuse to spy on our backyard (she’s my arch nemesis).

All in all, it’s a beautiful fall in the neighborhood. I wish that I were in the mountains taking pictures of all of the turning leaves. Oh well, maybe next year, after Obama has been in office for his first nine months. Oops, sorry. This was supposed to be a politically-free one, wasn’t it? Just can’t help myself.

More later . . .

Poor, poor, pitiful me . . .

So I was reading the celebrity gossip on MSN this morning, and I decided to delve in the he said/she said of the John Mayer/Jennifer Aniston breakup. Today’s story was John Mayer’s version of the breakup, that being that he did the parting but she is a wonderful, talented woman, etc…. My son Brett wonders why I read this schlock, and I try to explain the whole train wreck aspect of celebrity news: you just cannot turn away from the impending crash of someone else’s lives going to hell, and at the same time, you are amazed that people actually care about this crap (including yourself). I will admit that I have glanced at stories about Britney, Lindsey, and Paris–the trifecta of the intellectual vacuum of fame. I will also admit that I have spent a few brain cells wondering why people care about these vapid females who have absolutely nothing to contribute to society.

On the other hand, I will freely admit to being an admirer of Angelina and Brad, not because they have a brood of children, but because they are savvy enough to use the media to their advantage. If People magazine is stupid enough to pay $15 million for pictures of the happy family’s new babies, then the Jolie-Pitt pair is going to be smart enough to say, “Why yes, we will happily take the money that you are shelling out and turn around and use it for one of our foundations to help save lives, better the living standards of people who would otherwise do without.” In other words, you would hound us and try to get these pictures for free, why not use you to our advantage and pass that on to people who really need the money because we sure as hell don’t need any more.

And then there are those famous people who do things that really stupefy me. They are not in the “truly stupid” category, nor are they in the “working for humanity” category. They are in the “I’m an artiste” category, and so I’m allowed to treat people badly and say things without engaging my brain. I’d classify John Mayer in this category. Mayer, when speaking to the press about his break up with Aniston, insists that “you have to give everything up because you can’t have it all and it sucks.” Poor John. Can’t have it all. So, I suppose he’ll be writing on his blog soon about how his heart is aching and love has eluded him once again because a beautiful woman has done him wrong. Maybe if he ever learns not to pour his heart out and tell the world about his love life, he might find a woman who is willing to go the distance with him, that is, if she can tolerate his incredible ego.

Speaking of which, why does the world tolerate the incredible egos of these supposedly famous people in the first place. Paris Hilton? What has she done to be famous, to be idolized? Come on now, think very hard . . . she was born with a famous last name? Where will she be in the grand scheme of things in twenty years? Same place, no doubt. Britney Spears? We watched her have a mental breakdown in public. Everyone tuned in to her public shearing. Couldn’t turn away. Now her public redemption: Her picture on the cover of a rag with her two boys in mini tuxedos, everyone in white. Pure as the driven snow. No more crotch shots. Twenty years? Will we care? Probably. But the real question is why?

How many people who buy People and US will vote in the upcoming presidential election? If we could have half of those people, it would be a record turnout. In the first free vote in South Africa, people stood in lines that went on for miles in the sun and heat to be able to say that they had voted. Old men and women walked, WALKED for miles to get to voting centers. When asked why, they replied that they wanted to be able to say that they had voted at least once in their lives in a free election. Americans have had the right to vote in free elections for hundreds of years, yet would the American public do that? Maybe if Madonna or Paris offered to be there signing t-shirts.

Otherwise, forget it.