How Do YOU Pick ‘Em?

Not the horses.    trophys

I’m talking about Oscar winners. Is it just me, or does the Academy nominate  more people for each category now? More movies were up for Best Picture this year than usual.

I used to pick the winners based on who I wanted to win, Soon it was obvious that I did not share similar tastes with the Academy.

Next I tried to be logical. I would get a copy of the nominee list and figure out the actor and actress who starred in the movie I decided had the most chance for Best Picture. This method would have worked better if I didn’t suck at picking Best Picture.

I rarely see any nominated films before the award ceremony. This could be a significant factor – or not. Who really knows how the Academy selects the winners anyway. Their decisions amaze and anger me most of the time.

Considering the ridiculous choices the Academy occasionally makes it would not surprise me to find out the Academy members rarely watch every movie in question. Each member picks out a film to watch and writes an in-depth report on it. All members then meet to compare notes at a dark, dive-quality bar, and drink whiskey until they giggle like little girls. At that point they draw straws and the loser has to take everyone’s report and make up the nominees on the fly.

The week before the ceremony, our esteemed Academy returns to the dive-bar to decide on the winners.  Pieces of paper with a nominee’s name on them are taped to the dart board. The first paper to get nailed with a dart is the winner. The later it gets, the longer it takes to pick the winner using darts, because the Academy members are overly whiskeyed by this time.

If the designated record keeper forgets to record any results from the pierced paper choices, it all has to be done over. If the Academy failed to appoint a “record keeper” to begin with, they appoint the waitress with the largest breasts to keep score.

After all, this is Hollywood.


Dear Power Company,

I am writing you this letter to:

  1. Protest your inefficiency at prioritization of emergency calls.
  2. To give you a clue about our neighborhood.

Day One
Tree branch broke and downed power lines on my street. YOU, meaning the Almighty Power Company, put out an orange cone and used yellow construction tape to block off the street at the nearby cross-street.

Yes, YOU did send out all those recorded “comfort” messages by phone. Too bad I did not  bigfootcomethget them.  No power, no telephone service. We only knew what happened by one of our neighbors who lived across the street where it happened.

Day Two
I had to make a phone call and we get no cell coverage from Verizon where our home is. This meant a bit of a walk down the street to get a strong enough signal. Actually we were not able to walk – it was more like maneuvering through 3 feet of snow and ice. Something I have never had to do in my life. Something I always thought would be fun. I am an idiot.

When we came across the orange cone and yellow tape, we saw that the tree  and power lines were still in the street. This did not make us happy. So, the first call I made was to YOU and a recording answered. “If you have an emergency, like downed power lines, press one”  So I did.

My call was picked up immediately and the operator took all the information. It would seem that YOU blocked off the street but did not tell a work crew about it. I was assured that it would be taken care of ASAP.

And it was. The lines were moved over to the side of the road (as much as possible because the tree pinning them down and blocking the road was not removed).

Day Three
anditsstillsnowing  We asked our neighbor who had power (lucky bum!) to call YOU, again, and find out what the deal was. The deal was that YOU changed the status of my call to ‘resolved’. I was NOT happy about this news at all.  YOU were now dealing with a sleep deprived (someone needed to keep putting wood into the stove), barely washed (no hot water, remember?), woman who just moved all the semi-warm contents of her fridge to her ice-cold garage. “Garage: is the New Frigidaire” probably won’t catch on like the other dumb sayings have, but I can relate to this one.

It snowed all day, so that must have delayed YOU from even starting to work on our situation. Our neighbor, whom I owe cookies now, knocked on our door and told us YOU said the status for our neighborhood’s restoration was 5:45 pm – today.

YOU are in so much trouble!  Especially when the sun set and we knew we would spend another night in total darkness. Thankfully, we were able to scrounge up enough batteries to keep a camping lantern going when we needed to see.

Day Four
Being cut off from the world (no TV, phone calls, Internet, texting), was driving me mad. Unable to watch the playoff games on the weekend, I had no clue who was going to the Super Bowl. My cousins had their baby girl and I didn’t know for days!  And…I missed the Oscar Nomination announcements!  To many people it is probably easy to wait for that information. Not for me. My whole being was “chomping at the bit”  – a saying I now fully understand, BTW.

The latest ETA from YOU is noon today. Forgive me if I don’t believe it. Hubby has the fire roaring and along with 3 layers of clothing and ensconced in a “snuggy”, I am finally warm. I feel rebellious and snarky and I’m not going to move until my pout is over. Even though I have to pee.

Peeing has become a necessary evil. As you pull 4 layers down, you get a preview of the ice-cold seat awaiting you. It is 52 F in the bathroom. In spite of the warm lantern you bring in to comb your hair by.

A smart woman would take advantage of an empty fridge that is fairly warm and wash the bins and shelves. I, normally am that woman, and it could happen still, after I am finished with my pout.

Noon came and went. No surprises there. To YOUR credit we did have power in the afternoon. It was like, I imagine, getting out of jail must feel. I waited a half an hour before plugging things back into outlets, just to be safe from brownouts. I feared we would be back in the dark soon. My faith in YOU, diminished a lot.

Jodi Lea

cleanempty  BTW, my fridge is a gleaming white appliance. I hate to put food in it again. Hubby said, “It’s blinding!” and threw his arms up over his eyes. He’s such a comedian.

His humor kept me from having a severe pout. My sense of humor had left the building along with Elvis on Day Two. I, who pride myself on getting through things with my great sense of humor, am truly embarrassed.

I was humbled even further when hubby answered our first phone call.

“You’ve reached the Donner Party, please leave a message,” his huge grin was like a kid making a prank call, and that made me laugh even harder.

♥ TTFN ♥

No Excuses or Apologies


I know that Zombies are all the rage now, and it is not Halloween, but I could easily pass for one. My skin is pasty white, accenting the lovely sunken, black circles under my bleary eyes.  No cosmetic miracle will even lighten them slightly. At this point, I don’t think I care.

When I am feeling “poorly”, vanity is the first thing to go. The next thing is my cheerful and silly personality. I morph into The Ranter.

After four weeks of snail paced healing I started to get worse again. Dammit! I do not feel well, so I do not want to drive mountain roads for 12 miles, in freezing rainy weather to the doctor’s office, then drive another 15 miles to the only chain pharmacy my insurance will approve. – major pout here –

What I want to do is stay in my pajamas and curl up with my warm puppy and watch episodes of The Sopranos. I have been having my own little Sopranos marathon. I just started season 6 – the final season.  I did not recall the show being so gross, or the characters all selfish, sadistic, back-stabbing people.

Why do I feel this way now?  Probably because I am clean and sober, as I watch The Sopranos this time, and that has completely ruined it. Sigh.

So, in my sourpuss mood I must Rant. No, the above is not ranting, it’s complaining (really, it’s whining). After all, there are way worse things going on than my crappy little virus…

  • The Oscars are being ruined over some political and racial issue (is nothing sacred?). No black persons were nominees for the last 2 years. I had no idea! Who is racist enough to keep track of that crap, anyway?  I LOVE Chris Rock and I’m so happy he is not going to back out on being this year’s host.  My respect for Whoopie Goldberg has doubled for what she is saying about the boycott, and as for Mr. and Mrs. Smith – most actors did not get a nomination this year, so stop whining and go choose a fabulous script and try again. Next year is sooner than you think.

And while I am speaking of non-racial issues…

  • California is forcing school districts to spend millions of dollars to remove ‘discriminatory’ school mascots from the system. You know, like the Indians  I mean the Native American mascots like Chiefs, Braves, Warriors, Redskins. Oh Pleeeease. Are you telling me that other ethnic groups don’t have warriors?  You wait. Next, the PC Police will be deciding to outlaw mascots that are “sexually suggestive”: Beavers, Foxes, Goats and Rams for example.  I am in agreement with weeding out “The Beavers”, truth be told. Then there are schools that have mascots of the “you’ve got to be kidding me” class. How about “The Hobos” or “The Cotton Pickers” (What!?!).  Don’t forget “The Maniacs”, “The Orphans” or “The Arabs” (who recently changed their mascot to “The Mighty Arabs” – where are the PC police in that town!?)  Arrrrrrg.


Now that my puppy thinks I’m growling at her, and I’m sounding like an old pirate (a zombie one, of course), I will be signing off now. It’s almost 1:30pm – is that too early for pajamas?

♥  TTFN  ♥