A small victory

Some couples fight about money. Or sex. Or family. Or paying their family for sex. (Ewww, that was just wrong of me, I'll punch me in the face.) Our annual debate is about "Fish IS TOO meat!!!". Ahh, the joys of Lent. Isn't it nice when religion brings people closer together? (Wow, I think I made myself barf twice in one paragraph.)

However, I finally made some progress in winning my argument about fish on Fridays during Lent. It was a couple of weeks ago and it went something like this:

me: Is lobster a fish?
Joe: No.
me: So is it meat?
Joe: No.
me: What about crabs? Or scallops? Are they allowed for Lent?
Joe: I say yes, they're acceptable for Lent because I group all things that come from the ocean into one category.
me: What about ducks?
Joe: Those don't belong in the ocean. So ducks are meat.
me: What about freshwater fish?
Joe (exasperated with me already): Ok, I group together all things that come from the water.
me: Dolphins? Frogs?
Joe: Yes, fine for Lent. Though dolphins may be somewhat illegal.
me: So now what about ducks? They come from freshwater!

See why I'm so much fun to live with and why he loves me so much? And do I even have to mention that conversation took place on a Friday night after dinner and wine?

With all of my circular reasoning, I did at least force trick lovingly help him to realize that while he may want to eat fish on Friday during Lent, he needs to refer to it as tradition and not sacrifice. Because he loves fish, buys not-cheap fish, and it is therefore not a sacrifice for him to eat it.

Yeah, petty of me I know. And he still won't admit that fish is meat. But at least I've brought him around to my way of thinking somewhat. I can't explain why that pleases me so.

Oh, and as for curbing my potty mouth? I think I've done well. But I'm still going to be making a sizable donation somewhere based on my agreement. I'm going to have to choose somewhere that will take installment payments.

TGIF folks and please come back tomorrow for Six Word Saturday!

Another day

Yesterday started out pretty rough but by mid-afternoon I had managed to drag myself out of my funk. It's amazing how the support of some bloggy friends (special mention to Andy for making an extra effort to find some sunshine for me) and a hot shower - complete with leg shaving! - can lift a girl's spirits.

Beautiful weather also helps. Yesterday, it was around 70° and once the workers finished up in our backyard for the afternoon, I was able to get out on our screened porch. Rocking chair, glass of wine, and a book. Once Joe arrived home, we grilled up some steaks and spent the rest of the evening outside together.

I love my porch. It's such a sanctuary for me. We live along a busy street so it's not always the most quiet place but there's nowhere I'd rather be most of the time.

Now, my thoughts are turning to the yard. I have horrible allergies so Joe is definitely the lead on our teensy yard. Also, I tend to kill everything I touch. I'm on very strict orders not to even water either of the inside plants (yes, there are only two because Tonya thinks they are salads provided for her enjoyment). But I'm ready to plant some nice flowering bushes of some sort and also to get some basil and tomatoes growing.

It's Spring and things are growing and I'm going to find some hope in that. Today, I am going to look at the positive instead of freaking out about things I can't control. And by tomorrow, I should be back to "normal", just in time for the weekend.

Nope, not under the sofa

Just a warning - not my usual sorta post today. I really tried and I just couldn't find it...

Today is a very anxious day for me. There's no particular reason. No appointments, no meetings. Heck, I'm working from home and still in my jammies!

But I didn't sleep well last night. There's been some on-going medical issues with me that are really weighing on my mind. Instead of discussing all of those worst-case scenarios and what-ifs in bed, I should really return to meditating. All of that talking resulted in dreams about my next appointment and the doctor being so concerned that there was immediate surgery. Not the best way to catch some zzzzz's.

Then I awake to find the workers are here to finish up a project in the backyard. Except, this isn't the usual team of workers. I <3 the usual guys but this team is loud. There's a lot of yelling in accents that make them sound harsh and angry. And they're pounding on my house. And scaring my cats.

All of which adds up to just not finding it within myself to be humorous. Or chipper. Instead, I'm going to fill out my basketball brackets, catch up on the dvr, and find something to clean. Hopefully I'll find some sunshine under the bed or in the dishwasher. Or maybe in one of your blogs, which I'm off to visit...

Kiss me, I'm Irish!

No, really I am!  Kinda sorta!

Joe's heritage is half English, half Irish.  Since the English half is his mother's side and he doesn't associate much with them anyways, he fully embraces his Irish roots.  We've actually been to visit some of his relatives in Western Ireland and saw the little cottage his grandfather was born in.  Then last year  he applied for and was granted his Irish citizenship.  So if you ask Joe, he's Irish.

And if you don't ask Joe, all you have to do is see how red his cheeks become when he's drunk, embarassed or angry.

My own heritage is a bit of a question mark.  On my father's side, I come from a long line of loose women.  Haha, no I did NOT just call my Grandmother a ho!  But if you go back to my dad's father, we're not exactly sure what his paternal situation might've been.  The supposed story is that his mother became pregnant by one guy, married another, and then her husband never officially adoped him but somehow we ended up with his crackpot Lithuanian last name anyways.  As for countries of origin?  I've been told English, Irish, Scottish, Polish, American Indian, French...  

Here's what I figure.  My family doesn't even speak to or about the living members (this despite the fact that they all live within twenty miles of each other).  Trying to find out the facts about the dearly departed?  It's just not going to happen.  I've tried.  This means I am free to choose the heritage I want so I'll go along with Joe and say I'm Irish.

Another reason I choose Ireland is because I really love it there.  We've visted twice - once to the extremely rural west near Knock and once to Dublin (with a day trip to Galway).  We even visited St. Patrick's Cathedral on that last trip.  And Ireland is so beautiful and so lively.  

Plus, hey, Guinness!  And Baileys!  Seriously, what's not to love?

So I choose to be Irish.  It's not a lie because I do believe it's in my background somewhere.  And it's not just "everybody's Irish on St. Patrick's Day" because it's my choice always.

I am not, however, wearing green.  Be advised - if you attempt to pinch me, I will succeed at punching you in the face.  The Irish are also known for being a bit quick-tempered.

Sorry, I don't buy it

Friday night, Joe and I sat down to watch Mirrors, a horror movie starring Kiefer Sutherland. This post isn't a movie review but I'm just going to go ahead and say it wasn't very good. It wasn't convincing enough to really scare me and the big action sequence at the end made me laugh. There was a final reveal that I'm sure was supposed to blow your mind but I kinda saw it coming.

What this post is about is actors who cannot overcome their better-known roles. And it's not through any fault of their own, necessarily. It's just that in my mind, they are stuck for me in that one character forever and ever.

Case in point, Kiefer. I think he's a talented actor. But he's Jack Bauer now. Watching Mirrors, all I could think is "Jack Bauer ain't scared of no ghosts!". And every time he'd yell "DAMMIT!", Joe and I would burst into a fit of giggles and wonder what tools Jack's man-purse might hold. There's one line where he hears a voice and he calls out "Where are you? I need to know where you are so I can help you!". I swear, it was 24 all over again.

Another actor I have this issue with is Dustin Hoffman. I have enjoyed him in so many roles. But he's Rain Man (one of my favorite movies ever even though it stars pre-crazy Tom Cruise). Playing some crazy smart scientist in Outbreak, I couldn't buy it because I expected him to tell me he bought his underwear at Kmart, Cincinnati, Ohio. (By the way, is it just me or does Cincinnati look like the dumbest word ever?) Oh, he's gonna save us from the monkeys? Better hope he doesn't have to take a Wapner break during the crisis!  Someone get him his fishsticks and lime green jello because it's Wednesday, people!!!

I'm not sure why Kiefer and Dustin (we're on a first name basis) are so stuck for me. Plenty of other actors have had memorable roles that don't interfere with my ability to see them as other characters.  Johnny Depp comes to mind - nobody throws themselves into outlandish roles with more abandon than him.  But I easily accept it and move on.  And Dustin plays a wide variety of roles (I'll give you the argument that Kiefer tends to play the same character most of the time) so it doesn't make sense to me.

Do you have this problem with anyone? How do you overcome it?