Okay, here's the question: if you had the chance, would you let yourself be made "bionic?"
I watched the series premiere tonight of the new "Bionic Woman." It's pretty hard for me to put aside my nostalgic love for the original (and seriously, how sad is it that the Bionic Woman now sells mattresses on TV infomercials?) but I have to say, I'm kind of liking this new show.
So, anyway -- would YOU become bionic? Because the new Jaimie Sommers is not at all happy about it. I spent the first half of the show saying, "what the heck is HER problem?"
Todd was feeling pretty sympathetic to ol' Jaimie, I think, until I pointed out that the alternative to the bionics was being a triple amputee with a bum ear who was blind in one eye.
"Oh, yeah," he said.
Overall, I think I'm in favor of super powers. I heard once about a personality test which asks you to choose between being able to fly and being invisible. Something about people who choose to be invisible are sneaky and stuff, and they like . . . well, being invisible.
Okay, so maybe I don't really remember what the results of that particular personality test were supposed to be. But it's big fun to think about, isn't it? To me, it's no contest at all. I would choose flying.
No more waiting for the bus or paying to park. No more searching around for the cheapest airline. Nope, not me. I'd just fly myself on vacation. Cool.
I feel like such an adult these days -- I've started telling Todd my wishes in the event of some life tragedy:
1) No airbrushed t-shirts saying "RIP Kara", and
2) If the opportunity should arise, he should TOTALLY make me bionic.
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
Monday, September 24, 2007
What I Do For Fun
dI'm going to be starting a new part-time job next month as a tutor for grade-school kids (more on this later, I'm sure), and while it's only a few hours at a time, and I get to set my own schedule, I've been concerned about what this would do to dinnertime at the Lewis house.
You see, we're dinner snobs.
I'm not sure how it happened. My favorite dinner, pre-marriage, was Zataran's red beans and rice, followed closely by my second favorite dinner, Mrs. T's pierogies.
And while Todd did come into the marriage with a reportoire that includes eggplant lasagna -- a dish I've never even attempted -- I think canned minestrone soup was on his menu more often than not.
But somehow, when the two of us set up house together, we started cooking "real" dinners. Blame it on the Food Network, I guess, but we routinely have some pretty well-rounded and tasty stuff.
So I decided that if I'm going to be getting home a bit later a few days a week (yet not late enough to chuck it all and go out to eat), I'm going to need a freezer full of home-made yummies, and since Todd's in trial this week, I got started tonight.
We're starting with beef dishes, since there's a half a cow in my freezer waiting to be used. As of 9:00 p.m. tonight, my freezer holds the following:
2 Meatloaves
1 Honkin' Big Shepherd's Pie (because I didn't have quite enough for two)
3 Bags of 3-Bean Chili
1 Bag of Carrot-Ginger Soup (Which does not have beef. It was a slight diversion.)
There's probably one more beef night coming up, and then a chicken night and a vegetarian night. I may even throw in a few desserts or breads. All in all, I found it to be most entertaining.
You may say Geek, but I say . . . Domestic Goddess.
You see, we're dinner snobs.
I'm not sure how it happened. My favorite dinner, pre-marriage, was Zataran's red beans and rice, followed closely by my second favorite dinner, Mrs. T's pierogies.
And while Todd did come into the marriage with a reportoire that includes eggplant lasagna -- a dish I've never even attempted -- I think canned minestrone soup was on his menu more often than not.
But somehow, when the two of us set up house together, we started cooking "real" dinners. Blame it on the Food Network, I guess, but we routinely have some pretty well-rounded and tasty stuff.
So I decided that if I'm going to be getting home a bit later a few days a week (yet not late enough to chuck it all and go out to eat), I'm going to need a freezer full of home-made yummies, and since Todd's in trial this week, I got started tonight.
We're starting with beef dishes, since there's a half a cow in my freezer waiting to be used. As of 9:00 p.m. tonight, my freezer holds the following:
2 Meatloaves
1 Honkin' Big Shepherd's Pie (because I didn't have quite enough for two)
3 Bags of 3-Bean Chili
1 Bag of Carrot-Ginger Soup (Which does not have beef. It was a slight diversion.)
There's probably one more beef night coming up, and then a chicken night and a vegetarian night. I may even throw in a few desserts or breads. All in all, I found it to be most entertaining.
You may say Geek, but I say . . . Domestic Goddess.
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
Don't Tase Me, Bro!
FX has stopped showing Buffy the Vampire Slayer at 7:00 a.m.
This means that today I was forced to watch The Today Show while I ate breakfast. It was okay, though, because I got to see the story about the Florida college student who was "tased" at a John Kerry speaking event.
If you haven't seen this yet, get thee to YouTube straight away.
I definitely don't consider myself a staunch "pro-police" kind of gal, and I'm usually the first one to stand up for the little people.
But is this guy for REAL? As he's being led away by one arm, he's waving the other arm in the air, screaming "Help, help!" I kept expecting him to add, "help me Baby Jesus, help me Tom Cruise, help me Jewish God," a la Ricky Bobby. The cops looked as befuddled as I was. Throughout the incident, Kerry (ever the lovable bore) is still calmly answering questions.
My third favorite part is where he's told he will be tased if he doesn't cooperate, and after further struggle he calls out, "don't tase me, bro!"
Second favorite -- the very precise and distinct "ow" he yells as he's actually being tased. Not "AAAAAH!" but a definite "OW". THIS part reminds me of the ever-classic local news episode in which our own Louis Coleman subjected himself to the taser for the benefit of viewers. Classic.
But my absolute favorite part of the whole thing? (Which, unfortunately, is cut off in the YouTube link above.) Post-tasing, dude is standing pretty calmly, being loosely held by the police, then suddenly looks at the camera and exclaims, "they're giving me to the government!"
Oh, NO! The GOVERNMENT! Dum dum DUM . . . . (Please note that said government released this pathetic guy on his own recognizance this morning.)
But on a serious note, one thing that does really need to be addressed -- and soon:
Just what is the correct verb form of "taser?" Is it "tase," as our erstwhile Floridian seems to think? Or is it "taser," as in "bro DID taser me!"
Did he get TASED? Or did he get TASERED?
The world may never know.
This means that today I was forced to watch The Today Show while I ate breakfast. It was okay, though, because I got to see the story about the Florida college student who was "tased" at a John Kerry speaking event.
If you haven't seen this yet, get thee to YouTube straight away.
I definitely don't consider myself a staunch "pro-police" kind of gal, and I'm usually the first one to stand up for the little people.
But is this guy for REAL? As he's being led away by one arm, he's waving the other arm in the air, screaming "Help, help!" I kept expecting him to add, "help me Baby Jesus, help me Tom Cruise, help me Jewish God," a la Ricky Bobby. The cops looked as befuddled as I was. Throughout the incident, Kerry (ever the lovable bore) is still calmly answering questions.
My third favorite part is where he's told he will be tased if he doesn't cooperate, and after further struggle he calls out, "don't tase me, bro!"
Second favorite -- the very precise and distinct "ow" he yells as he's actually being tased. Not "AAAAAH!" but a definite "OW". THIS part reminds me of the ever-classic local news episode in which our own Louis Coleman subjected himself to the taser for the benefit of viewers. Classic.
But my absolute favorite part of the whole thing? (Which, unfortunately, is cut off in the YouTube link above.) Post-tasing, dude is standing pretty calmly, being loosely held by the police, then suddenly looks at the camera and exclaims, "they're giving me to the government!"
Oh, NO! The GOVERNMENT! Dum dum DUM . . . . (Please note that said government released this pathetic guy on his own recognizance this morning.)
But on a serious note, one thing that does really need to be addressed -- and soon:
Just what is the correct verb form of "taser?" Is it "tase," as our erstwhile Floridian seems to think? Or is it "taser," as in "bro DID taser me!"
Did he get TASED? Or did he get TASERED?
The world may never know.
Monday, September 17, 2007
Mother Nature is a Big Fat Tease
I'm not one to get too excited about the weather. Mostly, when everyone is saying things like, "what a beautiful day; I can't wait to get outside," I'm thinking, "what a great day to sit on the couch with a good book. Seriously, it usually takes a snowstorm -- which provides infinite opportunities to sit around with a good book -- to get me excited.
But this weekend? Beautiful. Cool nights, crisp morning air, and just a hint of those long shadows that signal the start of Autumn, with its art festivals, chili, and the annual Pulling Out of the Winter Clothes.
I went to the farmer's market on Saturday, and people, let me tell you -- it's OVER. The tomatoes weren't quite as red, and where a few weeks ago, they were spilling over the edge of the tables and rolling through the church parking lot, on Saturday, there were just a few sitting forlornly in a bunch. You couldn't even call it a heap.
The eggplants looked smaller, and the peppers sort of pale. Shoot, the honey guy has apparently packed it in altogether.
And although the summer has been nearly a bust, food-wise (nary a blueberry or a blackberry to be found), I have to say I wasn't too sad to see the decline of the farmer's market. Fall is such a happy time.
I tend to think of Autumn as the REAL New Year's. It's when I get excited about getting back into my "normal" routine; excited about the promise of a new "school" year with shiny new pencils and notebooks.
Ahh, Fall.
Then I watched the weather reports for this week. Eight-eight honkin' degrees on Wednesday.
Crappity crapola. Now I have to shove all those sweaters back in the closet.
But this weekend? Beautiful. Cool nights, crisp morning air, and just a hint of those long shadows that signal the start of Autumn, with its art festivals, chili, and the annual Pulling Out of the Winter Clothes.
I went to the farmer's market on Saturday, and people, let me tell you -- it's OVER. The tomatoes weren't quite as red, and where a few weeks ago, they were spilling over the edge of the tables and rolling through the church parking lot, on Saturday, there were just a few sitting forlornly in a bunch. You couldn't even call it a heap.
The eggplants looked smaller, and the peppers sort of pale. Shoot, the honey guy has apparently packed it in altogether.
And although the summer has been nearly a bust, food-wise (nary a blueberry or a blackberry to be found), I have to say I wasn't too sad to see the decline of the farmer's market. Fall is such a happy time.
I tend to think of Autumn as the REAL New Year's. It's when I get excited about getting back into my "normal" routine; excited about the promise of a new "school" year with shiny new pencils and notebooks.
Ahh, Fall.
Then I watched the weather reports for this week. Eight-eight honkin' degrees on Wednesday.
Crappity crapola. Now I have to shove all those sweaters back in the closet.
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
The Perils of Modern Medicine
Those of you who have known me for awhile know about my problems with the drug Topomax a few years back. And if you didn't know me then, let's just say you should always -- ALWAYS -- read the fine print regarding drug side effects.
You'd think I would learn.
Monday I went to my doctor with a whole list of woes; none of them serious in and of themselves, but all adding up to: I FEEL LIKE CRAP!
We discussed my apparent now urgent need to lose weight (I won't bore you with another whiny post about THAT), and just getting healthier in general, and I told her that I was concerned about being on too many drugs (all legal, I assure you).
She sort of squinted at my medical profile on her computer, and said, "what do you mean?"
"Well, just for the migraines, there's the Inderal, the Keppra, and the Imitrex . . . "
She had a look of horror on her face. "Who prescribed you Keppra?"
"Um . . . the neurologist you sent me to."
She started frantically typing and pulling up different drug screens. "Look at this!"
"This" was a list of side effects for Keppra, including at least four of the things I had just been complaining about.
So she says, "Well, are your migraines better, at least?"
No. Not so much.
Sigh.
Seriously, will I EVER learn? Read the fine print, people -- if a drug "might" cause sleepiness, depression, and feelings of inability to cope with everyday life -- DON'T TAKE THE DAMN DRUG!
Anyway, I still need to lose weight, but without that evil drug of the devil's spawn, I have more energy today than I've had in months. And I'm feeling like I might get to the end of the week without pulling an Edie Sedgewick and jabbing heroin needles in my ass through my clothes.
I tell you what, that Reagan lady got one thing right -- just say no, people. Just say no.
You'd think I would learn.
Monday I went to my doctor with a whole list of woes; none of them serious in and of themselves, but all adding up to: I FEEL LIKE CRAP!
We discussed my apparent now urgent need to lose weight (I won't bore you with another whiny post about THAT), and just getting healthier in general, and I told her that I was concerned about being on too many drugs (all legal, I assure you).
She sort of squinted at my medical profile on her computer, and said, "what do you mean?"
"Well, just for the migraines, there's the Inderal, the Keppra, and the Imitrex . . . "
She had a look of horror on her face. "Who prescribed you Keppra?"
"Um . . . the neurologist you sent me to."
She started frantically typing and pulling up different drug screens. "Look at this!"
"This" was a list of side effects for Keppra, including at least four of the things I had just been complaining about.
So she says, "Well, are your migraines better, at least?"
No. Not so much.
Sigh.
Seriously, will I EVER learn? Read the fine print, people -- if a drug "might" cause sleepiness, depression, and feelings of inability to cope with everyday life -- DON'T TAKE THE DAMN DRUG!
Anyway, I still need to lose weight, but without that evil drug of the devil's spawn, I have more energy today than I've had in months. And I'm feeling like I might get to the end of the week without pulling an Edie Sedgewick and jabbing heroin needles in my ass through my clothes.
I tell you what, that Reagan lady got one thing right -- just say no, people. Just say no.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Unfocused Angst
Todd and I were leaving the grocery store the other day, and I noticed this:
After I stopped laughing, I returned to my current state of bitter angst regarding the next presidential election.
Yes, I'm angsty. And not just about the Republican prospects (although, I'm afraid the only reason that Voldemort wouldn't be elected by the Republican party is that he's, well, British) but about the whole dang thing. About the war, and the Creation Museum, and that creepy prosecutor guy from Law and Order.
About used-to-be-cool-but-now-is-just-a-whackjob-John McCain and global warming and people who still hate Bill Clinton.
About conservative Christians and not-liberal-enough-Democrats and whatever-happened-to-Howard-Dean-anyway?
It's a hard time to be a bleeding heart. Even harder to be a Christian, and watch fellow Christians be afraid to stand up for what THEY believe in, even if it's not what THOSE Christians say we should believe in.
Ack. Too much angst. I remember when I voted in my first presidential election. I was a freshman at WKU, and all my friends were walking around wearing "I'm for Hillary's Husband" buttons. It was exciting, and optimistic -- and it was good. I know that most people are nostalgic for their college years. I'm nostalgic for a winning vote.
I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm not very optimistic anymore. I'd like to be, but you know, I went to Canada on vacation, and the French get free health care and more vacation time.
And I really hate that Law and Order guy.
After I stopped laughing, I returned to my current state of bitter angst regarding the next presidential election.
Yes, I'm angsty. And not just about the Republican prospects (although, I'm afraid the only reason that Voldemort wouldn't be elected by the Republican party is that he's, well, British) but about the whole dang thing. About the war, and the Creation Museum, and that creepy prosecutor guy from Law and Order.
About used-to-be-cool-but-now-is-just-a-whackjob-John McCain and global warming and people who still hate Bill Clinton.
About conservative Christians and not-liberal-enough-Democrats and whatever-happened-to-Howard-Dean-anyway?
It's a hard time to be a bleeding heart. Even harder to be a Christian, and watch fellow Christians be afraid to stand up for what THEY believe in, even if it's not what THOSE Christians say we should believe in.
Ack. Too much angst. I remember when I voted in my first presidential election. I was a freshman at WKU, and all my friends were walking around wearing "I'm for Hillary's Husband" buttons. It was exciting, and optimistic -- and it was good. I know that most people are nostalgic for their college years. I'm nostalgic for a winning vote.
I don't know where I'm going with this. I'm not very optimistic anymore. I'd like to be, but you know, I went to Canada on vacation, and the French get free health care and more vacation time.
And I really hate that Law and Order guy.
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