Friday Quotes!

Since I have Monday off and will be lazing about by the pool and drinking greyhounds, I'll post Monday's Quote today. And since it's a holiday weekend (and because I'm bored), I'll post a few.

"Boss, do we have to take all fifteen?"
"Yes! It's not nice to separate them from their friends!"
- Porco Rosso

"We could have a staff field trip to Shenandoah! I could be the guide. What do you think?"
"Good a place as any to dump your body."
"What was that?"
"Did I say that out loud?"
- The West Wing, "Enemies"

"The word is Lunchables. America should be patriotically divided into sanitary compartments of like-minded citizens."
- Stephen Colbert

"'Spells, changings, apparitions? It's all entertainment,' said Elphaba. 'It's thatre.'"
- Wicked

"I win. You lose. Twas ever thus."
- The West Wing, "The U.S. Poet Laureate"

Happy Memorial Day!

Huzzah!

Go Taylor!

If Chris Daughtry couldn't win American Idol, at least it was Taylor. I have to admit, he kind of freaked me out at first, but he really grew on me and I was pleased as punch to vote for him on Tuesday night. (Staying up way past my bedtime to do so...)

I am now free from the vile clutches of the evil AI monster. I was sucked in, but no more! As of ten o'clock last night, the bond was broken and I have escaped. We kept seeing commercials for "So You Think You Can Dance" and my aunty asked if I was going to watch it. I said, "No! And yet I can feel it luring me! Like a siren calling me to my death upon the rocks..." And the shot of that dude doing a face plant into the stage... I don't know if that's incentive or a warning.

What will I do on my Tuesday nights now, you ask? Well, they're airing back to back episodes of House re-runs all summer. That sounds pretty good. But look... they're dancing... Oh, God help me.

Monday Quote

"I cooked our tea, and when Holmes remarked merely that he hadn't thought it possible to make tinned beans taste undercooked, I took it that my cooking was improving."
- The Beekeeper's Apprentice by Laurie R. King

And a Happy Birthday to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle!

A Hint of White Trash Summer

It's getting warm outside. It's supposed to be 82 degrees today. Therefore, I thought I'd share some of my childhood summer recipes with y'all. If they seem a little white trash, just know that we had more sophisticated stuff too, but these are the desserts that stuck in my mind.

Ice Cream Pie

This is tasty and very refreshing on a summer's day.

You take a quart of vanilla ice cream and let it soften. You mix it with a can of frozen lemonade. Pink, regular, whatever. You pour it into a pre-made graham cracker crust and stick it back in the freezer to congeal. Simple and tasty. Bonus.

Tin-Can Ice Cream

I should get the official recipe for this from my mom before I post it, but if anybody wants it, just drop me an e-mail. From this, you'll get the general idea.

You take a big coffee can and put a little coffee can inside of it. Into the little can goes cream (I believe), sugar, vanilla, and whatever flavoring you like. Mint and chocolate chips, if you're me. Into the big can goes ice and rock salt. Both lids go on and you con a couple of kids into sitting on the cement with towels to keep their hands from freezing and rolling it back and forth until you have ice cream. Good times.

And the most white trash of all...

Cool-Whip Fruit Dip

This one's a little embarassing, but tasty nonetheless.

Mix a tub of cool-whip with a container of your choice of yogurt. I like lemon or raspberry, myself. Then, you just dip fruit in it. Pineapple, apples, strawberries. Yummy. (I suppose this one's not embarassing if you don't have my cool-whip issues. I'm not sure it's actually food.)

So, there they are. The fruity, summery tastes of my youth.

Monday Quote

"W.W.L.D.?"
"What would Leo do?"
- The West Wing, "Tomorrow"

My Kind of Town

Perfect, really, after yesterday's post.

Which city do I belong in?

You Belong in London

A little old fashioned, and a little modern. A little traditional, and a little bit punk rock. A unique woman like you needs a city that offers everything. No wonder you and London will get along so well.

What City Do You Belong In?

I could have told them that.

Rule, Britannia!

I am an Anglophile. Anything to do with England makes me a happy girl.

I didn't learn to like tea until I went to England and found out that milk and sugar make it taste infinitely better.

My favorite beer is British.

Most of my favorite books are set in England. Sherlock Holmes, Lord Peter Wimsey, Jane Eyre, Pride & Prejudice.

Kick-ass TV shows too. Little Britain, Blackadder, Mystery!

I was reading a Sherlock Holmes book today and thought that I need a club. Not a smack you over the head kind of club. (Although, that could be useful too.) No, I want a men's club. But for women, obviously. You know the beginning of Top Hat when Fred Astaire is waiting for... the guy whose name I can't remember and he's at the Thackery Club in London? "Absolute SILENCE!" I want somewhere I can go to read by a fireplace (since I lack one), have a cup of tea or a drink, and sit in peace. It sounds like heaven.

I've been to London three times and part of me feels happier there than anywhere else. Maybe it's the rain. Maybe it's the guy at the fish and chip place across from the Tower that calls you, "Luv." Maybe it's the Coke cans with Arabic on them. Maybe it's that they have buildings that are older than our country! Maybe it's the pigeons.

I've taken the water in Bath, marvelled at Stonehenge, purchased flowers in Covent Garden, seen the Royal Shakespeare Company perform The Tempest, strolled through the British Museum, eaten crap food and excellent pub food, had the best tuna sandwich of my life in Salisbury, a close second to that in Oxford, and (finally) visited Baker Street. I can never get enough.

Holmes may call it "the great cesspool," but I'll always love it dearly.

The Mama Bear Complex

Seeing as it's coming up on Mother's Day, I thought I'd share a couple of stories about the two women who have guided and protected me all my life. Since I can't hug them, I give them this instead.

We were driving to, I believe, Yellowstone many years ago and had stopped at a campground for lunch and a potty break. Grandmother was in the loo and I was waiting outside, holding her glasses. Just as she came out, a yellow jacket landed on my hand and stung my finger. I was about ten years old and promptly burst into tears at the unexpected pain. I've never seen a woman go Mama Bear faster than she did then. She flicked it off my hand and stomped it into the ground. It was no more than a smear on the cement by the time she was finished. She wrapped her arms around me and hurried me over to the ice chest. With some ice to take down the swelling and the sting, my tears slowly ceased and all was well again. I had been avenged.

She also makes the best gin and tonic this side of the Colorado River.

The only woman who protects me more fiercely than Grandmother is Mum. There was a day in elementary school (and you'll have to forgive me if I don't remember this perfectly) when I was waiting outside for her to pick me up. Being that it was winter in Utah, there was about an inch of ice covering the blacktop and there was a boy who was man-handling me in some way. Now, from what I hear, Mum saw this from afar and launched herself, heels and all, after this kid and hauled him up by his biceps and shook the bejeezus out of him. "How does it feel? Huh?" I imagine she was quite the sight to see.

As valiantly as they watch over me, they still knew when to let me go. Flattering, really. Oh, don't mistake me! They still keep an eye on me.

My dad was hoping my mom would have a girl because of the wonderful relationship all the women in this family have. We both got lucky. Happy Mother's Day, Possum! Happy Mother's Day, GM!

Happy Birthday, Puddin'!

It's my sweet Auntie's birthday today! She's 26! (Just kidding.) So here's a few of the many reasons why I love her...

She lured me out of Utah with the promise of a job, a place to live, and a link to my clan.

She lured me into her theatre company, which has been the most satisfying and rewarding experience of my life.

She makes fabulously tasty parmesan popcorn when we watch American Idol together. Go Chris!

She grills tasty, meaty goodness for Sunday Dinner.

She hauls my ass to and from work.

She introduced me to the Macaroni Grill.

She taught me to like The Darkness, Queen, The White Stripes, and any other number of rock bands that I may, or may not, have discovered without her assistance.

She makes me laugh on a daily basis.

She's cute.

She geeks out over hermit crabs.

She gets how funny the terms "snot noodles," "penguin pox," and "ass munch" are.

Suffice it say that she kicks ass! I love you dearly, Auntie Vind! Happy Birthday!

Monday Quote

"As for me, I could let you drown. But I can't bring this ship into Tortuga all by me onesy, savvy?"
- Pirates of the Caribbean, Curse of the Black Pearl

I've Got Nine Lives, Cat's Eyes...

What's my theme song?

Your Theme Song is Back in Black by AC/DC

"Back in black, I hit the sack, I've been too long, I'm glad to be back" Things sometimes get really crazy for you, and sometimes you have to get away from all the chaos. But each time you stage your comeback, it's even better than the last!

What's Your Theme Song?

Kick ass! I should have known!

Monday Quote

"Why do they always paint hallways that color?"
"They say taupe is very soothing."
- Ocean's Eleven

Lincoln, Me, and My Big Mouth

This post is about how much of an idiot I am.

Really.

I was at Disneyland with my Auntie and co. a few weeks ago and I had pulled a penny out of my pocket. We were in line for Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and I was going to flip it into the water to join the thousands of other coins and make my wish.

I was standing there, staring at the penny. My mind registered that there was something not quite right about it. If I had thought about it for another three seconds, it would have made itself obvious. Instead, I opened my big fat mouth and said, "Oh, my God! They printed this penny backwards!"

Auntie looked at it. And looked at me. And said, "Kate, it's upside down." She then proceeded to laugh her ass off. For good reason, sure.

What can I say? It made me feel like an idiot (and still does), but it made her month. She's still laughing about it!

I don't know if this is better or worse than Mum taking the cat's Prozac...

What Doughnut Am I?

Thanks, Annejelynn!

You Are a Boston Creme Donut

You have a tough exterior. No one wants to mess with you. But on the inside, you're a total pushover and completely soft. You're a traditionalist, and you don't change easily. You're likely to eat the same doughnut every morning, and pout if it's sold out.

What Donut Are You?

James Bond, eat your heart out!

My Auntie was in Washington D.C. last week and visited the Spy Museum at the Smithsonian. We were sitting at Sunday dinner last night and she was telling me about this one particular spy who was a double agent during WWII and was a HUGE contributor to making the D-Day invasion a success!

I was intrigued. I thought, "There has to be a kick-ass book out there about this guy." And then, "Why the hell has no one made this into a movie?!"

Well, I did a little research today (I love the internet!) and found his story on MI5's website. Naturally.

His name was Juan Pujol, but his code name was GARBO and he invented 27 agents. A whole network of fake people to help him feed misinformation to the Germans. He made them think that the Normandy invasions were simply a ruse and the BIG invasion was still to come and that when it did come, it would be further to the North. The Germans actually set troops aside to wait for the 150,000 men, rather than adding them to the D-Day contingent.

Here's the best part! The Germans were so impressed with his dedicated service that they awarded him the Iron Cross.

For his whole story, and bios of three of his fake agents, go here!

I doubt he got a girl named Pussy Galore, though.

Monday Quote

"It's possible... you warthog-faced buffoon.... You miserable vomitous mass."
- The Princess Bride

Monday's Quote

So, this is long for a quote, but I love it so much that I don't care.

"This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.
He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen in England now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day."

-William Shakespeare, Henry V

Three Stories

Today, we're having a flashback to 1997. Or was it '96? Anyway, it was highschool. In my youth, I was in our school's Concert Choir. Every year, we went on tour to compete. The year of our story, we ventured to Southern California.

Now, we have months leading up to our competition. We worked our asses off. Well, since we were in Utah, we worked our behinds off. We had an AMAZING teacher named Mrs. Moulton. She taught in the two middle schools that fed into our highschool too. By the time I graduated, I'd had her for six years. This makes for a really good choir. Most of the time, she was a very cool person. Funny, fairly easy-going, and the like. But the week before a concert, was known as "Bitch Week." She drove and pushed us. Yelled, threatened to throw her keys, had us sing in the dark, etc. But it ALWAYS worked. We had a pretty small choir compared to a few of the others in the area, but we kicked-ass consistently. Therefore, we put up with "Bitch Week."

So after we were done competing, we were exhilerated and a little punchy. OK, we were REALLY punchy! We got to go to Sea World on this particular trip and all of these high schools were the only people there! So, imagine a whole bunch of teenagers, high on adrenaline, running around Sea World... Scary, huh? We had a couple of guys in our choir who started us on a rousing rendition of "The Scotsman." Those of you who already know the song are shaking your heads now, just thinking about it. (Amazing that such devout Mormon children knew this song!) For those of you not familiar with it... here are the lyrics.

Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how we walked that he drunk more than his share
He fumbled round until he could no longer keep his feet
Then he stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
He stumbled off into the grass to sleep beside the street

About that time two young and lovely girls just happend by
And one says to the other with a twinkle in her eye
See yon sleeping Scotsman so strong and handsome built
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt

They crept up on that sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be
Lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see
And there behold, for them to view, beneath his Scottish skirt
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth

They marveled for a moment, then one said, "We must be gone.
Let's leave a present for our friend, before we move along."
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon, tied into a bow
Around the bonnie star, the Scotsman's kilt did lift and show
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
Around the bonnie star, the Scotsman's kilt did lift and show

Now the Scotsman woke to nature's call and stumbled towards a tree
Behind a bush, he lifts his kilt and gawks at what he sees
And in a startled voice he says to what's before his eyes.
"O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize."
Ring ding diddle diddle I de oh ring di diddly I oh
"O lad I don't know where you been but I see you won first prize."

- Mike Cross

Awesome! I love that song!

We saw the seal show that night too. There was a whole (stupid) plot line, a man, a woman, and some seals. At one point, the man is supposed to scream, the woman's supposed to scream, and (I assume) the seal's supposed to scream. Only before the seal could get his word in... I screamed. Yup, you read it. I stole the seal's thunder. The guy looked at me and said, "Hey, kid, you want a fish?" I have to say, it was completely involuntary! It wasn't as if I sat there and thought, "Hmm, I'm gonna screw up their show!" The idea of that now that I'm a stage manager is horrifying! What kind of moronic dumb-ass would do that?! At the time, it just came out and I was just as surprised as everyone around me.

On another trip, I think, or maybe it was the same one... Anyway, we were at a shopping mall and there was a rather terrifying (being a 15 year old from Utah) group of punk-rocker, goth types hanging out. My friends and I were, once again, punchy as hell and I was laughing. No, you don't understand. I have this EXTREMELY high-pitched, loud, evil, laugh from hell that I put on every once in a while when I was feeling particularly frisky. One of the punk dudes looked at me and said, "Hey, man, can you laugh like the Crypt Keeper?"

At first, I was too freakin' intimidated to say anything, but then something clicked and I said, "Can you laugh like the Crypt Keeper?"

And he did.

Happy Birthday, Critter!

Since today is my sweet Daddoo's birthday, I thought I'd mention some of the best moments I remember with him!

For years, I gave him a rosebush every year for his birthday present. Yellow, especially.

I remember decorating his bicycle for the 24th of July parade. Straws on the spokes and crepe paper on the handle bars.

I remember that time he dropped my favorite toothbrush down a pit toilet.

I remember all the mini bottles he went to Wyoming to get for my 21st birthday. That Drambuie was nasty!

I remember that time my stuffed animal Ducky stowed away in the foot of his sleeping bag. And how Ducky looked with only his head sticking out of Daddy's bike bag.

I remember that time when we were hiking to Sand Dune Arch in Arches National Park and we got caught in that evil sand storm. He let me blow my nose on his shirt tail.

I remember the massages and the kisses on the forehead to finish them off. (They never do that at Burke Williams...)

I remember the hugs. *Sigh*

And I remember the "Little Girl, Kati" song that always made me feel better when I was sick.

I love you, Daddy Dearest! More than I can say. And I wish I was there now to give you the biggest hug in the world! Here's a cyber-hug. Not nearly the same thing, but what are you gonna do. HAPPY B-DAY!!!

A Thank You

I want to say thank you to the people of The West Wing. It would have been so easy for them to throw in the towel after John Spencer’s death, but they hung in there. Last night’s episode was a beautiful testament to them. Thank you for Vinick’s moral fiber in not using Leo’s death for his political gain. Thank you for Santos’ exquisite speech after hearing the news. Thank you for the poignant reactions of Josh, the president, C.J., Donna, and the rest. It must have been brutal for them to have to relive the experience over again. Thank you for keeping me on the edge of my seat as far as the election results were concerned. Thank you for the fact that I’m still thinking about it 12 hours later. It brought to mind the West Wing of old and made me remember all of the fabulous Leo moments from the past seven years. Thank you to Aaron Sorkin for bringing the whole thing to life. You guys have had a momentous run and I’m sad to see you go. I wait, with tissue box close at hand, for the funeral next week and the last few episodes of this beloved show. As Josh said last night, “Thanks, Boss.”