Monday, August 15, 2016

Monday, August 08, 2016

The Olympics, Cont.

I couldn't have said it better myself.

Sunday, August 07, 2016

I've Heard of Armchair Quarterbacks, But...

Was the sofa at least disqualified?

Monday, August 01, 2016

A Day That Will Live In Infamy

August 1, 1981.

35 years ago today.

Some poor schmuck actually married Desperate.

Happy Anniversary, Richard.

Friday, July 29, 2016

Henning It

Actually I'm batching it for a couple of days- husband and child are out of town- but I just read this Brit mystery where someone gets killed at a "hen party," which I gather is what they call a bachelorette party.  In fact they call it the bride-to-be's "hen."  For short, maybe?

I've never been to a bachelorette party.  I've been to bridal showers, but never a bachelorette.  All i know about them comes from stories friends told me on he morning after.  "Karaoke" and "mai tais" come up a lot.  And the person telling the story is usually hoarse and hung over.

To be honest with you it doesn't sound like my kind of thing at all.  I am the worst kind of introvert.  The kind that wonders why she doesn't get out much but is always ready to dash back home after about ten minutes of society. 

I'm terrible at parties in general.  My M.O. is usually to find someone I know and then hang around them, if not exactly with them then at least close enough that people think I know them.  Oh, and I avoid eye contact with strangers at all costs.  Too risky.

It goes without saying, then, that I suck at "networking."  This is a real drawback at writers' conferences.  Half the point of going to a writers' conference is to meet new people, new writers, potential agents. Hard to do that if you most finely developed skill is how to fade into the woodwork.  And not to brag, but I am a pro at that.

But I'm not the worst I've ever seen.  That honor goes to a certain family member who shall go unnamed.  I once shelled out six hundred bucks for my nephew to attend a writers conference with me, and you know what he did? He spent the whole weekend holed up in his hotel room.  Writing.

You'd think he'd get his priorities straight.

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Garry Marshall

Rest in peace, and Happy Days ahead.