That Girl's Blog

Glee-ful

Did anyone check out Glee? The Husband and I just watched it today and I quite liked it. It wasn't the best hour of television I've ever seen, but it was enjoyable and has promise; I'll definitely give it a shot in the fall. It could turn out to be something I could really fall in love with. (For those unaware, they aired the pilot episode on Tuesday, but the full run isn't actually starting until September.)  The Husband was underwhelmed, so it looks like I'll be watching it by myself. I probably shouldn't get too attached; apparently it's very expensive to produce, so Fox probably won't be satisfied with anything less than stellar ratings.

The pilot is available free on Hulu (along with some short clips), Amazon.com's Video on Demand, Fox.com, and I believe it's also free on iTunes.

Love the closing bit (hope this doesn't get taken off YouTube too soon):

When you can't have The Thing That Will Cheer You Up.

I was reading Nothing but Bonfires, and after following a series of links to some of her older posts, I wound up at this one. She'd had a bad day, culminating in the universe "closing the cafe where—out of sheer desperation for some joy to come of this day—I had planned to buy my official This Will Cheer Me Up Cookie."

I hate when this happens. I mean, obviously, I hate when I have a bad day, but it's just killer when you're having one of those days, and you latch onto something that is going to Make It All Better — maybe it's a cookie, a latte, a TV show you're looking forward to watching that night, popcorn you're looking forward to eating with that TV show, or a book or CD you're going to allow yourself to splurge on as consolation for your shitty day. And then when the time comes, that thing is cruelly snatched away from you. The bakery is closed, the lid pops off your latte and it spills everywhere, your DVR failed to record your show, you're out of popcorn, the store doesn't have that book or CD.

I invariably cry at that point. Often the tears are accompanied by lots of swearing, sometimes also by random sobs of "I miss my mom!" or, lately, "I hate this town!" Basically, I throw a tantrum. I can't help it; when the universe refuses to grant me that one ounce of goodness in an otherwise horrible day, I am incapable of taking it stride. If I'm in a public place, I will hold it together until I get to the privacy of my own home, or at least car — I don't throw tantrums in Starbucks. But once it's safe, I will cry, and I will likely get mad, too.

The Husband, being both quite male and quite British, doesn't understand these emotional outbursts. They're usually met with baffled exclamations of, "It's just a coffee!" or "So just watch it without popcorn!" But I'm sure there are plenty of women out there who understand.

Unless it's just me...

Good times at the dentist!

Went to the dentist today. It actually wasn't that bad; the office manager lady and dental assistant were both nice, said assistant was not too violent with my mouth, and the dentist himself was fine (from what I could tell in the few minutes he was actually in the room). He assured me that I have no cavities. This is a little surprising, as my previous two dentists told me I had a number of cavities, most of which were never filled since then, and I've had a little extra sensitivity in a couple of spots... but I'm going to take him at his word.

However, he and the assistant both stressed, as I fully expected they would, that I really need to get my broken crown fixed. In two years it's become more than just a vanity issue; it has a hole in the middle and although I clean it of any stuck food almost obsessively give it extra attention when brushing, it's still an open invitation for bacteria or whatever to work its way up in there and then I would likely lose it completely. Which in some ways I would almost welcome, but my bank account would not.

Of course, our crappy insurance won't cover the replacement — although it does get me a discounted price — so I can't get it done until I come up with $500. Yeah, that'll be easy. As soon as I master the art of pulling money out of my ass.

New depths of boringosity.

So, wow, my boring job has gotten even more boring since they changed my client roster. Less annoying, in some ways, but more boring. Please pardon me while I curl up under my desk and take a nap.

Mother's Day

It seems like most years I have at least one awkward conversation when it gets to be near Mother's Day. I've never mastered the art of saying out loud that my mom is dead, let alone that she committed suicide. (It doesn't help that all the polite euphemisms like "passed away" all sound so stupid to me.)

The first time was a few months after her death; I was still waitressing and one of the other servers, Ian, asked some innocuous question like, "Are you going to visit your mom for Mother's Day?" I sort of froze at first, then with some difficulty I managed to convey the reason why I would not be visiting her, and then came the part where the other person feels embarrassed and sorry for me and sorry for bringing it up, though I feel no resentment; it's not their fault.

This year's "incident" went like this:

Two guys leaving the office on Friday:

Guy 1: Jamie, call your mother this weekend!
Me: Mmmm, that might be a little difficult.
Guy 2, quick on the uptake: Think fondly of your mother this weekend?
Me: Yes, that will work better!
Guy 1, making awkward/sadface: Oh... sorry!
Me: That's okay!

Because, it is okay. I mean, I'm only 31, and most people assume I'm in my twenties, so it's a fair assumption that my mother is probably still alive, and it's a normal topic of conversation. In fact, I could have skirted the whole thing by just saying "ok" or nodding or whatever. But I don't really like doing that, because it's kind of stupid, and also because I feel like if it later does come up that my mom died years ago, that person might think it's a little weird that I implied that I was going to call her on Mother's Day. A conversation wherein someone thinks that I place imaginary phone calls to my dead mother would be even more awkward!

I don't really want to save Dollhouse.

Seems to be a fair bit of effort on Twitter and the interweb in general to "Save Dollhouse", but, well, I don't particularly want to. It started off pretty bad, then there was one point when it seemed to be picking up, then it quickly fell flat again. I like some of the characters, but the show is just, to me, not very good. And I'm not really buying what Joss and Eliza are selling about it being sexy and provocative in what they claim is supposed to be a thoughtful, intelligent, get-you-thinking-deep-thoughts-about-human-sexuality kind of way. I think it's "sexy" and "provocative" in an exploitative, shallow, hopefully-Eliza-in-an-S&M-outfit-will-boost-ratings kind of way. I don't know if they secretly know that, or if they're really trying to do what they claim but sadly failing.

Not that I'm campaigning to have it canceled or anything — it's not so intolerably bad that I find its very existence mind-boggling or in any way bothersome. I just don't want to watch it.

Now, Chuck, Samantha Who and Reaper — those I would like to see saved! Actually, the end of Sarah Connor Chronicles even had me intrigued enough to kind of hope it gets renewed. (That show has been a weird one for The Husband and I... it's not really very good, we sort of don't really like it all that much, we often talk about cancelling the season pass... yet we keep TiVoing it and watching it. Cancellation would put an end to the dance. If it does come back, I'd like to not see Shirley Manson on it ever again.)

Other television notes: Losing Allison from American Idol instead of Danny "Are You" Gokey* was all kinds of wrong, but the most important thing is that once AI is over, So You Think You Can Dance comes back!

* I can't hear or see his name without hearing it in my head to the tune of the "Smooth Criminal" chorus (Alien Ant Farm version, if you want specifics) — Danny are you Gokey, are you Gokey, are you Gokey Danny?

My inside cleaner. For when stinks.

I already twittered this link, but I'm just so fascinated by it that I had to blog it as well.

(Via Engrish.com.)

I guess I'm not a woman of the etiquette, because I am not rushing out to buy one of these.

Smoooooth legs.

A while back, I bought The Husband this Proraso Pre and Post Shave Cream, as it seemed every male on the interweb was in love with the stuff. Unfortunately (considering the cost), The Husband did not fall in love; he has sensitive skin and did not enjoy the tingling sensation at all. (It has eucalyptus oil and menthol.)

It sat around for a while, and tonight I decided to use it as a pre-shave cream myself.

First, I used it on my underarms, where I immediately felt the tingling coldness and did not like it at all. I think the skin there is too thin for it. I didn't even notice whether it improved my shave, as I was only thinking, "Ack! Cold armpits!"

I was discouraged, but tried it on my legs anyway, with much better results: My legs only registered a very slight cooling sensation, and I got what I'm pretty sure is the closest, smoothest shave I've ever had. They feel so lovely! (And for what it's worth, my underarms are super smooth, too.)

So girls, nevermind that it's made for men, I totally recommend this stuff for your legs! (But not your pits. And personally, I would keep it away from my lady parts.)

Note: One of the (male) reviewers on Amazon noted that it's very similar to Noxzema and that he tried that with similar results. From what I can recall of Noxzema, I think it is pretty similar — so if you have any of that around, you could try it and maybe save some cash.)

(Edited to add: It occurs to me that I wasn't clear about how I used it. I first slathered a little bit of this stuff on the applicable body part, e.g., one calf, and then slathered my usual shave cream on top of that.)

Not to be all lame and stuff, but... OMG.

Dude, Alyson Hannigan (Denisof) just direct messaged me a reply on Twitter. I'm a proponent of the whole "celebrities are regular people" concept (because, well, they are!), but I can't help but squee a little bit!

Aly posted this cute picture of her new haircut, and someone made this comment:

I see that kind of thing on Twitter/Twitpic all the time, and I don't get it. I said:

(Apparently Twitpic doesn't stop you when you reach whatever their character limit is. The hell?)

And Ms. Hannigan (Mrs. Denisof) sent me a direct message saying she agreed! I feel a little silly being excited by this, but hey, everyone likes a little validation, right? Especially from a celebrity they admire. (Boy, wouldn't I have felt the fool if she'd been all, "No, this Jordan person is awesome and you should mind your own beeswax"?)

So, that was cool for me. :-)

(I took a screenshot of her DM, but then I realized including that would be inappropriate. It's not my place to publicly post her words when they weren't public in the first place. Not that there's anything even slightly hush-hush about it, but still.)