5th Element February 21, 2009

Okay, I’m not really watching it. But I am. Sort of. Not really. FINE. I’m watching it. And I have to say, Mila Jovovich (clearly not her name, but close) is wearing a ridiculous white strappy outfit. And BAM. She just fell through the roof of Bruce Willis’ cab. I’ve never seen this movie before. I’m intrigued. Now imagine The 5th Element is playing in the background of this blog post, because it is for me.

I have a few places where I regularly read my horoscope. One is Free Will Astrology, which is pretty out there, meaning you have to decode it, but it sure is amusing and different than most horoscopes. For example, here’s mine for the week:

For a limited time only, you’re in a position to consciously choose your next problems. This is a tremendous opportunity that I hope you won’t allow to go to waste. By being proactive, you can ensure the arrival of fun and interesting dilemmas, thereby avoiding the frustrating and draining kind. In other words, Aries, if you go looking for provocative new challenges, the same old tired and trivial trouble won’t come looking for you. I suggest you begin the quest as soon as possible. 

The other place I go is Elle Astrology, more of the usual variety, and often uncanny. 

(FYI…now the police are trying get Mila, and Bruce is climbing through his cab, and she just passed out, so he’s carrying her around looking for a priest…man, Bruce Willis is hot and he’s wearing orange — which I used to believe was solely a boy color, and here he is proving me oh so right.)

I don’t really subscribe to horoscopes, but they do fascinate me, and I get a silly pleasure when something fits perfectly. 

Hm. That’s all, really. We’re at a commercial break. The bad guy has stolen Mila’s box of stones…what dramatic tension!

13 and 30 February 20, 2009

I went shopping yesterday for a Bat Mitzvah present for a young lady named Michelle. As I was paying, the woman at the counter asked me whom my gift was for, and I stuttered a bit because it’s complicated. She’s the daughter of my dad’s ex-girlfriend. And while my dad and the ex no longer speak, I’ve kept in touch with Carol for many years. They dated when I was 8-years old until I turned 12. Those are formative years. And I thought Carol was the coolest. She is the coolest. And now her daughter, Michelle is 13 – a year older than I was when Carol and my dad split. But that’s just the backstory. So, I’m trying to decide what to buy for Michelle, and I realize I have not a clue as to what 13-year olds are into these days. I also can’t even really picture a 13-year old. How pink do I go? Or not pink at all? I selected a bracelet, completely unsure of wrist size) of small blue crystal flowers woven with a sort of thin brass chain. It’s girly, sure, but I would wear it, so I took the chance.

Okay, so then I wrapped the gift and signed the card and took both items to the post office here in Dover. I’m the person that buys the decorated mailing bags and labels. That’s me. In case you’re ever wondering who buys that crap. Right here. I do. So, I pick out a bright blue and purple bubble wrap sleeve with a matching label, and I take it all to the counter:

Guy at counter: Wow…this must be someone pretty special.
Me: Sure is.
Guy at counter: I mean, you got the fancy envelope, and the fancy label, and the fancy box…
Me: Sure do.
Guy at counter: You must really think the world of this one, to buy all that fancy packaging.
Me: She’s 13. 13-year olds get fancy packaging. (Is it really all THAT fancy? It’s like a dollar).
Guy at counter: Ooh yeah. Sister? Niece? Daughter of a friend?
Me: Ummm…daughter of my dad’s ex-girlfriend.
Guy at counter: Well, look at here. Your fancy packaging is costing you more than the postage!
Me: Alright…
Guy at counter: Well, I’m here all afternoon, if you need more fancy packaging for anything else.
Me: I think I’m all set. Bye now.

Anyway. I hope she likes the bracelet.

Snow January 30, 2009

I realize that we’re all tired of talking about the snow, driving in the snow, stepping on the snow, shoveling the snow, and brushing the snow off our cars. It is only January. Record numbers of blah blah blah. But here’s the thing that gets me. The roads and sidewalks are for the most part cleared. Except on Sundays, I feel relatively confident in New Hampshire’s ability to help me get from here to there. But as I walk down my little sidewalk, I am slowly sensing the walls of snow that are being expertly constructed on either side. The snow is currently higher than my head. There’s no place for the trash bags or the recycling. I have to balance both atop one of these giant walls of snow. And I’m a small person to boot. I’m starting to feel like a character in The Golden Compass. I promise never to mention the snow again (unless I can’t get my front door open).

Holy Hot Damn January 20, 2009

He’s President. There is so much to say. But mostly I’m speechless. All our lives, in school or on the evening news, we are shown clips of great moments in history. The speeches that moved a nation and the triumphs and tragedies of which our past is comprised. I’m so accustomed to these events occurring in the past. We see them edited and spliced just like memories. It is mind boggling to think that maybe now, right now, it is happening in the present.

A Word of Advice January 20, 2009

Watching CNN, I have one comment to live correspondents everywhere: do not ask small children questions on the air. I know they’re adorable all bundled up in their winter jackets and knit hats, and we’re trained to believe that they will say something that warms the heart or amuses with its childlike quirks, but in reality, they don’t to want to answer you. They will instead look at their moms and mumble a one-word answer, and then you will keep asking them questions hoping to get that sound bite, but it won’t come, and eventually, you will have to move on. Defeated.

The Mall January 16, 2009

There’s a mall nearby. It’s in Newington, the in between town that is neither Dover, nor Portsmouth. The department stores include Macy’s, JC Penny’s, and Sears. There’s a Things Remembered (where you can get stuff engraved for those very special occasions). A whole bunch of kiosks (I remember when I learned that word, “kiosk,” because I was so happy that there was an actual word for those random little booth things that sell products that were once only available by calling a phone number). About 7 or 8 stores for teen (read: trashy) clothing. More than one salon. A CVS. There’s a a whole showroom for sports cars and a mattress store. Oh, a Piercing Pagoda – that’s one of the kiosks and incidentally, where I got my ears pierced 23 years ago. The mall is sad. It seems like it’s dying, but don’t they all? And haven’t they seemed that way for years? When I was 12, my best friend Shiloh and I would go to Cranberry mall, where we’d purchase bags of fish at Dr. Pets. Little neons or a clown fish. It’s technically called a clown loach, but I find that name repulsive, considering it is the combination of leech and roach. I also would buy an Orange Julius, which exist much more deliciously in my mind than they truly are, should I have one today. Anyway. The mall. I went there today and bought some fancy lip gloss. Perhaps you noticed that was one of the things I wanted from my list I made yesterday. I’m very happy with my lip gloss. Thank God for the mall.

Here are a few things that I want: January 15, 2009

new excellent lip gloss
a digital camera that catches pictures quickly (I’m sure there’s a technical term for that…shutter speed?)
a bookcase
a mini-chopper – Cuisinart or something
a full-length puffy coat with a hood. i have a long puffy coat without a hood, and i have a coat with a hood that is not puffy.
the little patch of rust on the inside of my car door to magically disappear.
a shelf stereo
and a tacky prom dress for this party-thing next weekend.

I fell on my butt today January 15, 2009

I did. Right down the staircase at the gym. I don’t even go to the gym. This was day #2. And this was my reward. Just like in the cartoons…bump-ba-dump-dump-dumping my way down a flight of stairs and landing in full view of all the treadmill-ites treading. If I lean to the left while seated, it doesn’t hurt so much.

I’m telling a story…come see! January 11, 2009

Hello friends,

Come on out for an evening of great stories, poems, and music. I’ll be telling a new one (with music/sound by Mikhail Fiksel), and the whole evening features a terrific group of artists headlined by author and well-known host of NPR’s “Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me,” Peter Sagal:

The Poetry Center of Chicago presents: No Love for Love

Monday, February 9th, 8:00 PM Victory Gardens/ Biograph Theatre

Tickets are $20 and can be purchased by calling the Victory Gardens Box Office at 773-871-3000.

For more info: The Poetry Center of Chicago

Happy New Year and best wishes to you all!

Love, Rosie

From an article on whaling in Iceland… January 11, 2009

“I am certain that whaling will be permitted (this summer),” said Fridrik Thor Arngrimsson, the head of the Federation of Icelandic Fishing Vessel Owners, which signed the petition.

…regardless of your personal opinions on whaling (and for the record, I am unequivocally against it), I just wanted to state that “Fridrik Thor Arngrimsson” is a MADE UP NAME.