New, Disturbing News

My hair stylist is a creationist. As in, "Attila the Hun had dinosaurs as pets."


I wasn't quite sure what to do about the information once I knew it. I know I can't do anything about it - she's free to believe whatever she likes (no matter how bad and wrong it is), but I so desperately wanted to point out such things as, oh, I don't know, the FOSSIL RECORD and CARBON DATING. But that might have caused my ear to be snipped off.

So what did I do, as she was talking about how her cousin was silly enough to believe in evolution for awhile until she, my stylist, found information on the Internet to refute evolution? I'll tell you what I did: I went "uh huh" and bit the inside of my cheek until it bled. Because when someone is hovering above you with a sharp, deadly object, the last thing you want to do is tell them they are an idiot.

Make That A Double

Dr. Nate and I went out to dinner on Saturday to celebrate our anniversary. The menu had a list of specialty drinks and martinis available for order, which I read even though I wasn't planning to order one.

I don't care for martinis. Yes, I will drink a cosmopolitan on occasion and there was the Unfortunate Chocotini Incident Of 2008 (one that I never care to repeat, thankyouverymuch.) But actual martinis - the clear ones that taste like rubbing alcohol - are bad.

Whee - ethyl alcohol is yummy!

Lots of martinis tend to have something in them. You aren't served just a glass of clear liquid; you also usually get "something on a stick," like an olive or a little onion. Why does it have to always be an olive or a little onion?

But there are other food items that probably could be used in place of the olive or onion. And then it hit me. The perfect combination! I present to you:

The Hamtini^TM! Which could also be called the Porkini^TM. And the variation on the theme: The Prosciutini^TM.

Top Chef Observation

Boy, that Lisa sure is an asshat, isn't she?

Boyfriend Music Mash-Up

I had the nasty habit of picking up my boyfriends' music listening habits when I dated them. For instance, one old boyfriend really liked guitar stuff. So I now own every Eric Johnson cd ever made -- at least until we broke up -- even Tones . I never listen to them anymore except Venus Isle about once every five years. I'm due to listen to it again in 2011.

Yeah, I've been to a G3 concert. What's it to you?

That same boyfriend is also why I know far, far, far too much about Yngwie Malmsteen and can still get a respectable score in the "Guitar Alphabet Game.'' A is for Alvarez. B is for B.C. Rich. C is for Charvel. G is for Gretsch (you thought I would say Gibson, didn't you?).

Yngwie 's hair rocks out with his Fender

From another boyfriend I learned about the blues. And I do still listen to the blues sometimes. But I might be a heretic because I will freely admit that I prefer the Nirvana cover of "In the Pines" much more than the original. I also listened to way too much Bruce Springsteen with that boyfriend. I had to go on a three year Bruce moratorium after we broke up.

Through the music dregs I've been dragged though, I do sometimes incorporate some of the music into my own personal listening file. Except for one Yanni incident; that's asking too much.

So then I go off and get married to this jazz trumpet guy (aka Dr. Nate). And you'd think that after a massive amount of jazz exposure I would come to like it, too. No way in hell. Not that I didn't try; I did, sort of. But the place where most jazz in town is played DOESN'T EVEN HAVE A GOOD BEER SELECTION. How am I supposed to warm up to a musical genre when I can't even enjoy a decent beer while slogging through it?

I mean, look at this guy. Come on:

And Maynard belts out show tunes or something

I won't listen to jazz and I can't get Dr. Nate to listen to The Clash or Rolling Stones, so I've given up. I'll just go my own musical direction for the rest of my life. I wonder where I put that copy of Rising Force?