MEMO

To:
National sports journalists who said the Tigers were overrated, in a shitty conference and could never hang on a national stage

CC:
UT Vols Fans
Everyone at the University of Louisville
The Entire State of Texas

Message:
WHO'S OVERRATED NOW MUTHAFUCKERS??

Do you Twitter?

It's taken me a while to "get" this - both the point of it and how it works - but once I read where someone called it "micro-blogging" my ears perked up. Because you know how I pretty much feel like I own blogging. Like Al Gore:Internet, Me:Blogging.

Plus, you can Twitter from your phone. So how cool is that? Like sending you little mini-blog posts when I'm out and about and the mood strikes me.

(My younger readers right now are all like HELLO? WELCOME TO THE DAMN 21st CENTURY.)

(Who am I kidding? Like I have "younger readers.")

So if me not being my hair here and being divalicious here isn't enough for you, then you can follow me twittering here. And if that's still not enough of me, I'll come over and make you banana pancakes for breakfast tomorrow.

Especially for Badger

There's this really cool Song Chart Meme posted on Flickr. I don't get a lot of them because I probably don't know enough of the songs. I'm thinking Badger can probably fill us in though. She knows a lot of songs.

Here are some of my favorites or, as it were, the ones I DID get.

And of course, my favorite:

Madness in the true sense of the word

UT is currently playing Louisville in the NCAA Sweet Sixteen and since there are not two teams on the planet - in any sport - that I despise more, I can't imagine a happy ending to this for me because short of the entire arena being sucked up into an alien spacecraft in the next 36 minutes of playing time, there's not really a way for them to both lose. So perhaps I will just go to bed early.

Bumper Sticker of the Day

"When the Rapture comes, can I have your car?"

********

Also, on a completely unrelated matter, how did I not know that Mariska Hargitay is Jayne Mansfield's daughter?

And I Raa-aa-aan, I Ran So Far Away

This week: I did 2 and a quarter miles. Next week, 2.5.

Oddly, I think the second half goes more smoothly than the first half. Any other runners out there who can attest to this? Or explain it?

Also, does anyone know if it's safe to use my iPod while running in the rain? Not that it's raining. Or even expected to. Just want to be prepared if in fact one day I go out to run and it's raining. You think about these things during 2 and a quarter.

Quotable

"If they ever make a movie about Shari Lewis and Lambchop, I know who'll play Lambchop:

Renee Zellweger."

-Tracey Ullman, on her technique for impersonating Renee on her new TV show

Not Fabulous. Just Ghetto.

This morning I had to go to traffic court for a speeding ticket I got last month. IDK how it's set up where you live, but here, the traffic court is in the same place as the criminal court. To make matters worse, it's on the basement level, so once you get through the metal detectors, you descend down the escalators into the throngs of the unwashed masses and feel not unlike Dante descending into the depths of hell.

[It was even worse when they used to allow smoking down there.]

I stood down there in line with the dregs of humanity for over an hour. I don't mean to be judgmental. I KNOW! I broke the law by driving 73 mph in a 65 zone. Yes! I'm a criminal!! But I'm just saying, the only people down there dressed like me were the lawyers (and they were no Jack McCoy, yo). Which means that people "like me" either A) don't get pulled over as often (profile much?), or B) somehow manage to talk their way out of the ticket, which I apparently was not able to do.

The time did afford me many opportunities for giving make-overs in my head, though. Most of them started out with, "You should seriously cut off some of this hair..." I would also question the use of gold lipstick and recommend that if you're going to wear false eyelashes, you should really glue them down securely.

Officially a DIVA now

I started blogging at my new gig today. Please go over there and leave a comment and boost the readership numbers way up so the editors think they made a great decision in letting me on. The blog is called iDiva and the address is idivamemphis.com if you want to add it to your feeds, please.

On a side note: I mentioned in the post how my addition to the blog has been overshadowed by some big news in town today. Yesterday evening, our mayor announced that he will step down July 31. This is a man who just put our city through a very racially divisive election in November in which he won an unprecedented 5th term as mayor with just over 30 percent of the votes. He was our city's first elected African-American mayor, and he's been highly controversial his whole tenure as mayor, steadily more-so as his terms wore on. So the fact that he's only going to work six months of his fifth term shocked everyone. The story on the homepage of the daily paper has, at this writing, 369 429 comments on it.

Which leads me to this question: When people comment on news stories online, do you consider that "blogging?" Commenters often refer to it as "blogging" and it really sets my teeth on edge. But maybe I'm just overly sensitive. And territorial.

UPDATE 11:42 - uhhh, there seems to be a problem with the iDiva site. Probably because I HAVE SO MANY READERS THAT YOU'VE CRASHED THE SERVER. But if you can't get on right away please don't forget to check back later...thx

Hair Do (and Hair Don't)

I got my hair cut like Tyra this week.

Not that Tyra. This Tyra:

Who, frankly, is a lot hotter these days anyway.

Da-Do-Run-Run-Run, Da-Do-Run-Run

So I realize that, according to this Couch-to-5K plan, I should've run my first race, like...last weekend. But remember I had those little pesky injuries, most notably the high-ankle strain that kept me out for three or four weeks. So even though we're three months into the year, I'm only on Week 5.

I started out Week 5 last Saturday. The first workout of Week 5 instructed a combination of running 5 minutes (1/2 mile) three times interspersed with two walking periods of 3 minutes each (R5 W3 R5 W3 R5). And I was so proud of myself for completing it - I even tacked at extra minute on to the last running segment because I was doing so well. I was so psyched at how GREAT I was that I considered coming in and blogging about it.

But first I went over to where my running program is tacked on to the refrigerator so I could put a big red Sharpie marker X through Week 5 Workout 1. I happened to take a glance at Week 5 Workout 2, which I foolishly assumed was the same as Workout 1, because that's how the first four weeks of the program had been. Only it was not. Workout 2 instructed a combination of running 8 minutes (3/4 mile), walking 5 minutes and running 8 minutes (R8 W5 R8). Whoa. That's kind of a big jump. Do they think I can run two 8-minute segments? I guess theoretically I should be able to...But then what does Workout 3 encompass?

WTF??

Run 20 minutes no walking??? Are you fucking kidding me? TWENTY MINUTES? Why the hell would they jump from 3/4 of a mile to 2 miles? It doesn't even make sense.

I read on: Week 6 Workout 1 went back to a run/walk combination (R5 W3 R8 W3 R5), which tells me that whoever wrote this fucked up running program KNEW the 20 minutes no walking was going to be a challenge and that I was going to need some extra recuperation time.

I ran my Workout 2 on Monday after work downtown on the river. It was pretty cool running down there. Flat. Flat is good. My neighborhood? Not so flat.

Today after work was Workout 3 - 20 minutes no walking. I was totally ready for the challenge. And I did it, ya'll! I ran 20 minutes no walking!

I FUCKING RAN 2 MILES TODAY!!!

Note to Self:

Buy wellies and a trench
Spring=RAIN

Can't Buy Me...

I just want to say that I think it's quite admirable of Heather Mills McCartney to say that she is "so, so happy" with her $50 million divorce settlement. See? She's not a selfish, gold-digging ungrateful bitch at all. I would also like to go on record as noting that I think $50 million is TOTALLY FAIR PAY for the amount of work that goes into four years of marriage. The way I see it, someone owes me about $187.5 million dollars, give or take a few hundred-thou. (I'm not that good at math.)

Creativity and Flair

This is a freelance piece that I submitted to a publication. They opted not to use it. I can't imagine why.

When my son was about two-and-a-half years old, his dad, whom I had not yet been married to long enough to have fully trained, clomped around in the muddy yard in hiking boots. (Actually, it’s been 15 years now, and he’s still not fully trained. But at least he’s better than he was. At least he empties the clean dishes from the dishwasher before he puts the dirty ones in it now.)

When he came inside, he threw the muddy boots in the dryer. You know…to dry them. I was not aware of this exceedingly brilliant moment of domesticity until later that day, when I went to put a load of clean clothes from the washer into…

Are you kidding me? What is THIS? My dryer is caked in mud! Oh…I was fuming. I dumped the wet clothes back into the washer and got down on my knees and began wiping the mud out of my dryer.

(By the way, there really is no easy way to wipe dried mud out of the inside of a dryer. If you ever find yourself in this situation, here’s what I suggest you do: 1)Wrap a chain or a rope around the dryer; 2) Secure it tightly; 3) Haul that sucker out to the curb; 4) Drive yourself to Sears; 5) Buy a new damn dryer.)

Obviously this was a task that required a great deal of cussing and cursing the day I married the thoughtless oaf. I believe my exact words were, “He. Is. So. F***ING. STUPID!” To which my two-and-a-half-year-old said from the doorway, “Hey!” (points finger at the offending mommy) “Don’t say ‘stupid’!”

Oh, I raised him right. He knew better than to say “stupid” or (*gasp*) “shut up.” Dropping f-bombs, on the other hand? Completely acceptable. Because I think it’s important to teach our children to curse with creativity and flair. It’s what will set them apart from other college applicants, fraternity pledges and job candidates. Knowing how to make full use of the English language will get you everywhere in life.

I myself learned how to cuss from my friend Shelley’s mom in high school. After hanging out at her house a few times, drinking sweet tea and watching the Michael Jackson Thriller video on MTV, it became apparent to me that it was okay to cuss in front of Shelley’s mom. In fact, it was encouraged.

I had never cussed in front of my own parents. My own parents hardly ever cussed in front of me. When my dad got mad, he was known to release a hardy “Oh…blast!” from his pursed lips. I know for a fact that I never heard them say worse than damn or hell. And once, when my brother was in junior high, he got discouraged watching a football game and said, “This team sucks!” and my dad told him that by jim, he better not ever hear that kind of language out of him again. “You don’t even know what that means,” my dad said. (Hee, hee. The hell!)

At Shelley’s house, they would mock my efforts at cussing. It was like one of those “You Got Served” movies, only with less dancing and more trash-talking. (And also hand motions.) At Shelley’s, I learned the best way to mix-and-match cuss words and how to recognize when the occasion called for the most shocking combinations.

George Carlin made a name for himself with the Seven Words You Can’t Say On Television. That was back in the 70s when you really could get arrested and thrown in jail for saying them on television. Now days, I’m pretty sure numbers two and seven are okay to say on network TV and in the right circumstance (like, for instance, if you’re Tom Hanks), you can probably pull off using number one. Jane Fonda just got away with a four – on the Today show, of all places! Jon Stewart says number three all the time; they just bleep it out, but you totally know that he’s saying it – that’s part of the joke and much of his appeal. Numbers five and six you can still only say on TV if you’re Tony Soprano.

My husband and I never watched our language in front of our son. Even when he was in the mimicking stage of picking up words I don’t remember him ever repeating anything shocking or age-inappropriate. I understand now that when he was six or so, he once told his dad to shut-the-eff-up. Dad’s reaction was swift and fierce and caused the boy such dire trauma that to this day he still doesn’t cuss in front of us.

This is why it’s important to teach your children how to cuss. Using the f-word is no big deal really. There are no bad words, only bad ways to use them. I’d much rather my son use the f-word than, say, use drugs. Go ahead and tell me that your eff-ing English teacher gave you too much eff-ing homework. But don’t tell your English teacher to shut-the-eff-up. Because that s*** will get you in trouble every time.

On Inside the Actors’ Studio, Host James Lipton very famously ends all of his interviews with a questionnaire (“Invented by Proust and brought to perfection by Bernard Pivot”). Number seven on the list of 10 questions is “What is your favorite curse word?” Because everyone has one, even Scientologists and Shakespearean thespians whose names begin with “Sir.” Some of the most highly respected, award-winning, leading ladies of our time, including Jodie Foster, Holly Hunter and Jessica Lange, are proud to boast their love of the word c***sucker. Even Saint Angelina admits her favorite is the F-word. (Something else we have in common! We both love Brad Pitt AND the F-word!)

Personally, I think it would have been grand if, instead of quoting the Eminem line, “You only get one shot, do not miss your chance to blow/ This opportunity comes once in a lifetime,” Jodie Foster had chosen for her Ivy League commencement address that other timeless quote from his song: “Success is my only motha-f**kin option, failure's not.”

Today, you can learn all sorts of new curse words on the internet. Bloggers have come up with some of the most creative new uses of four-letter words in generations. No way to know where they started, or even what they mean exactly (are we supposed to interpret “asshat” literally?) but it’s encouraging to know that someone out there is taking up the cause of cussing with creativity and flair. We may not leave our children with a better world, but we’ll certainly supply them with the language to complain about it colorfully.

No Rest for the ______________.

My insomnia kicked in hard and fast last night, as it always seems to when I'm overly tired and desperately in need of a good night's coma.

If you've never suffered from the torture of insomnia, it's hard to explain just how painful it is.

It's like your mind is running in a continuous, monotonous stream - like that Billy Joel song - and all you can do is lay there and stare at the ceiling and think WE DIDN'T START THE FIRE and yet that doesn't change the fact that it was always burning since the world was turning.

It's like running on a never-ending, nightmarish treadmill, while a cloaked, hooded evil figure tells you that you can stop to rest just as soon as you get there.

It's like every cell in your body is suffering from restless leg syndrome, and your entire body is made up of trillions of mexican jumping beans, and the more you try to calm and soothe these ones over here, the more those ones over there are popping out of their cellular walls.

It probably didn't help matters any that there were thunderstorms going on all night long. A couple swigs of nyquil might have put me into a blissful stupor in a quiet, dark room, but instead it only served to amplify the rain pelting against my window and make me feel like I was riding on a float in god's chaotic parade, flashbulbs popping in my face and the big bass drum following along behind me pounding out its NEVER. ENDING. BEAT.

Insomnia sucks balls.

What do you do when you can't sleep? What could I have done? And more importantly, how the hell do I get through the day when all I want to do is curl up under my desk and sleep?

Journalism 101: How NOT to conduct an interview

Wow. The webosphere is abuzz today with the story of how Business Week's technology journalist Sarah Lacy fucked up the interview with SXSW keynote speaker, FaceBook CEO and Founder Mark Zuckerberg.

This guy is a 23-year-old BILLIONAIRE and the youngest self-made billionaire on the planet. The audience was a tech crowd. You'd better ask the right questions.

CNET says: "Sarah Lacy out-and-out bombed, becoming much more of the story than she should have been and having the capacity crowd turn on her over the course of the hour discussion."

WIRED says: "They came expecting a civilized, one-on-one discussion, but they got what some attendees described as 'a train wreck.'"

Journalism professor Jeff Jarvis discusses what went wrong on his blog, BuzzMachine. (Highly recommended.)

And if you still can't get enough, Valleywag liveblogged it here and there's about 20 thousand more links here.

The high cost of Prostitution

I'm not saying he didn't do anything wrong. I know prostitution is illegal (although I'm not really sure why, given that the government really shouldn't be legislating morality and consenting adults and all that). So yeah, he's the CEO of the state government and he [allegedly] committed a federal felony, yeah yeah.

I'm just saying, is THIS what our federal wire-tapping money is being used on? Prostitution rings?? Couldn't it be spent on something a little more...important? Like, I don't know...STOPPING TERRORISTS?

Also, I don't know who the Spitzer's PR person is, but if I had media-trained Mrs. Spitzer, I would have told her to do something other than read her husband's statement over his shoulder. Like make eye contact or look supportive. Also, looking HOT on camera is always good after your husband's been caught fooling around. Makes him look even more like an idiot. Like, "Whoa! He cheated on THAT?? Is the man STUPID?"

Running Report

In case you're wondering, yes, I am still running and it's going quite well, thank you. I may not be a world-class sprinter but you know what I have gotten exceptionally good at? Spitting.

I have my second cold in as many weeks and I just couldn't haul my sick ass out of bed at 5:30 this morning to run NOT TO MENTION THE FACT THAT IT WAS STILL DARK OUT. But it turns out there's a flip side to DST because then I came home this evening and duh, it was still light out. So I thought, "Huh. Maybe I'll give this running-in-the-evening thing a try." It was like 60 degrees out and the boys were off to basketball so I figured I might as well. Keep me on my Mon-Wed-Sat schedule anyway.

I thought I would be more tired at the end of the day but I think I probably had more energy. Slightly more. Just a smidgen. Although running this time of day means that people I know in the neighborhood are more likely to see me. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Since I'm pretty sure I look like a big flailing dork when I run.

And then I drank a gatorade and called it dinner. The end.

24/7 in March

courtesy of skirt! magazine



My family: They're really nothing more than a couple of 12-year-old boys, and it's all they'll ever be, I'm afraid.












My work: is not something I discuss on my blog.












Words I live by: "To Thine Own Self Be True."













I can't live without: music.














I am guilty of: giving people make-overs in my head.















One thing I never want to do again: Drink














If I could do it all over again: I simply would not. Once is enough.














The food I could eat every day: Chocolate cake










My best friend says I am: not looking my age.











I still can't get the hang of: knowing when to just shut the hell up.














I'd like to learn to: swing dance.














My favorite body part: The bottom of a baby's feet








(photo courtesy Sundry Mourning)



Something most people don't know about me: I often give my outfit a character name.







(Today's was "Sundance Snowbunny")


Always...shave under your arms before exercising.














Never...take a connecting flight in the wintertime.

Could it be...?

Nikki Finke is reporting good news this morning!

Suicide hotline, please hold...

The church by my house has a sign in the yard that says: "Coming Soon: Grief Counseling"

Now, is grief counseling really something that one plans for? Because I'm thinking that grief counseling is the kind of thing that, when you need it, you're needing it RIGHT THEN. They might as well put up a sign that says, "HOLD ON JUST A BIT LONGER!! Grief Counseling: Coming Soon!!!"

Trust Me.

This is my favorite song right now by my favorite band right now - My Chemical Romance.

"I'm not okay - you wear me out." Brilliant!

This video is PG-13 but I especially like in the album version when he says "I'm not okay. I'm not okay. I'm not o-fucking-kay." because that totally sounds like something I would say.



I'm especially excited because My Chem is playing at the Memphis in May Beale St. Music Fest on May 2. I've never even been to Music Fest (do I strike you as a Music Fest type?) but I think I'm going to have to go get my punk on.

Headline: 6 Bodies Found in Memphis Home

I'm having a hard time concentrating on work today because I keep going back to read comments on the news stories about the four adults and two children killed in Memphis last night. Interestingly, comments on national news stories tend to argue about gun control, while the local stories focus on racism and the mayor's responsibility.

I live in one of the most violent cities in America. People say, "Crime is everywhere; you can't escape it." But the truth is, it is more rampant - and more violent - here. You could leave this city and live at less risk. Memphis has more than its share of problems - crime, corruption, racism, and yes, way too many guns. I do hold the local government at least partially responsible. Mayors have cleaned up worse crime than this in cities a lot bigger than Memphis, so it can be done. The Memphis mayor just got re-elected to his fifth consecutive term, so he's certainly had the chance to do something about the rampant crime. Yet things are far worse now than they were when I arrived here 20+ years ago.

There are all sorts of reasons for society's ills - drug addiction, poverty, unemployment, teenage pregnancy, single-parent households. But IMHO there is only one reason that people kill: because their lives feel worthless and so they no longer value life. Until we make their lives worth living again - by dealing with the drugs, poverty, unemployment etc etc etc - then the killing will continue with abandon.

In Memphis, the black population suffers from these ills at a disproportionately high number, so "black crime" results in most of the murders. Then white commenters on media web sites rant under the cover of anonymity about how horrible it is that blacks are killing each other, which only makes black commenters angry and causes them to blame white people and it's just the most ugly, vicious cycle.

I almost prefer the gun control arguments on USA Today.

While others seemed content to debate political arguments, my attention was drawn to one comment that seemed to really be inspired. Someone posting under the name OneReasonableMan made this comment:

Each of us who cares about solving these problems must find a way, even if it is a small one, to make an improvement to this earth each and every day. Commit to an organization that helps people. Show kindness when it is difficult and hate would be easier. And remember this quote from a vary influential thinker: "Only the weak are cruel. Gentleness can only be expected from the strong." So go and be strong. Spread gentleness. Try it.

There really is only one answer, isn't there? The government is not going to fix this for us. Commit to an organization that helps people, he says. Each one of us must find a way. What are you going to do today? What am I?

Important Alert!

I just want to tell ya'll that the weather here is getting really, really scary right about now. And also? This was me Friday night:

It FELT LIKE 40 years

There are two classic movies that I've wanted to see for some time now but haven't been able to get my hands on. One is Lawrence of Arabia - which I'm pretty sure someone has stolen from my Blockbuster, because it is absolutely NEVER in and I just don't believe it's all that popular - and the other is On the Waterfront, which my Blockbuster DOESN'T EVEN CARRY.

Today I stumbled across Lawrence on Turner Classic Movies (which is kind of how I'm hoping to watch Waterfront one day, too) and oh my holy hell. This film won SEVEN Academy Awards, including Best Picture, in 1962. I'm not saying it's not a good movie. I'm saying IT IS NEARLY 4 HOURS OF PEOPLE WALKING AROUND IN THE DESERT. I made it through the crossing of the Nefud Desert but fell asleep some time around the crossing of the Sinai.