Babs

I just heard on the radio that Barbra Streisand has called the new pope "scary." What else do I need to say?

Disgust

I have no words. Well, I have these: Whether he's joking or not, this sonofabitch is a soulless piece of human garbage.

Save Toby

Party!

Just so I wouldn't be late, AGAIN, I thought I'd be one of the annoying people to arrive too early to Mysterious Cloaked Figure's Blog Party III. This time, he asks us to bring our five favorite heroes of all time to the party. As always, I will be answering in the most visceral way, giving no thought to real merit, only to my own feelings at this very moment.

1. Edmond Dantes - The Count of Monte Cristo. Because I just love that whole plotty revengey thing. He's a hero to me. Scary, huh?

2. Aragorn - Need I say more? There's really nothing like a reluctant king when you need saving!

3. Spike - Of course! Because at the very end, he's THE big redeemed hero. I'm so psyched that he's in both villain and hero categories!

4. Mr. Darcy - From Pride and Prejudice. Sure, he starts out surly and anti-social, but what a hero! My very favorite kind of hero, in fact.

5. Jack Stiles - A true hero and the king of the one-liners! A hero needs a big chin, and he's got one, along with a horse named Nutcracker. Verily, I love you, Jack Stiles.

And hey! How many EXCLAMATION POINTS can I fit into one post? What fun! Heroes! Exclamation points! Hooray!

Pirates!

The post about Defoe's book has got me thinking. I think that we should all take on Pirate names in this style. One real name (e.g. Black Bellamy) and one descriptive name (e.g. The Pirate with a Scarf).

For me, I'm going with Snake B. Malcoeur, The Pirate with a Keen Interest in Severe Weather.

So, let's hear 'em!

Books!

I have been utterly consumed with work for the last week, and I haven't bothered to post a thing. I thought I'd take a moment, or ten, this morning to write a little before I begin my daily dose of frantic wall-bouncing and phone-calling and bank-visiting. Here are a couple of things I've read lately, and my reactions thereto.

1. Candyfreak : By Steve Almond
I admit, I am not a candy freak, so when this book was thrust upon me by the well-meaning members of my book club, I was a touch annoyed. I felt that was simply too much to read about candy. What I didn't realize is that this guy is funny. Yes, he waxes political in inappropriate places, he becomes wistful about his childhood, but not enough for us to care, really, and he possesses what a dear friend of mine calls a "sometimes self-conscious" writing style. But you know what? All is forgiven, because he's funny. It's true about me that if you make me laugh, I'm yours forever, and this guy did. But I do not exaggerate when I tell you that my teeth actually hurt through much of the book. So much candy. One book club member took it upon herself to find every regional candy bar mentioned in the book (ah, the wonders of cyberspace) and bring them to the meeting. I haven't experienced a sugarhigh like that, well, ever. It got so crazy that one member, a certifiably insane germ-a-phobe, took candy out of my mouth and ate it. That's what sugar in high doses can do to girls. I take no responsibility for, nor do I remember, anything else I did that night. When we formed a ladies' book club, "rowdy" was not an adjective we expected to be used to describe it. So, thank you, Steve Almond, you big sugar-pusher. I'll bet he's hanging around a schoolyard right now, offering the first Goo Goo Cluster for free.

2. The PIRATES! In an Adventure with Scientists : By Gideon Defoe
A very short and ridiculous read, but worth twice its weight in gold doubloons. Several jokes in this book have been sticking with me for days, and I laugh every time I think about them. There's no describing it, really. A group of pirates mistake Darwin's Beagle for a treasure ship in The Galapagos and attack it. They become friends, eat ham, and go on an adventure. Look, just read it. "Trust me on this one," said the pirate with a severe nut allergy.

Oh, man. Blogger's spell checker just told me to replace "Candyfreak" with "Sandbars." Anybody got a clue about THAT one?

JPII

Yesterday, I was out painting in the store all day. I tuned the radio to the news so that I could listen for word on the Pope. ABC talk/news was not paying enough attention, so I switched to BBC world news and occasionally, Radio Dublin (I love the satellite radio.) I got very annoyed when one of my new neighbors, a computer salesman, came over to meet me because it meant I had to turn down the radio. I might miss something. It felt like Good Friday, listening to the reports of the Pope lying on his death bed; listening to the chants of the pilgrims in St. Peter's Square. I was inexplicably stuck with sadness. It was like all of my Catholicism came rushing over me, all at once. I was remembering the nuns, remembering the constant church-going thoughout grade school. I remembered the moment when this Pope was shot, and how the nuns were crying and we were all told to drop to our knees right in the middle of English class and start up a Rosary. I was in 5th grade.

I went home, after the painting, and turned on MSNBC. They can always be counted on when there is a major world event happening. I wanted no distractions. Just a constant view of The Vatican. MSNBC did deliver, and they still are. I watched that view of St. Peter's from 4 PM till 11PM, feeling sick with the thought that this man was dying. I remember when he was elected, how my Pap Pap, his parents also from Krakow, cheered at the Polish Pope. He was soon insisting that we were related to him. Even at the age of 10, I got that this Polish Pope was a big deal, especially to the Polish side of my family. I thought about my Pap Pap, and how he, too, had a ridiculous capacity for healing thoughout his life. He had survived a heart-attack, rolling his car over a hillside, and every medical procedure known to man. I was struck by how much alike they were, really. I thought about my Pap Pap's garish spotlit picture of JPII, with the candles in front of it.

At 11PM, it looked like nothing much was going to happen, and I desperately needed a break. I was completely screwed up from watching Rome for so long. I started to think it was morning. I started to wonder if I could get a flight there, so I could be at St. Peter's. I really, REALLY needed a break. I went and took a shower and watched a couple of M*A*S*H re-reuns. I switched back to MSNBC to see what was happening. There was a rumor that The Vatican would make an announcement and 3AM Eastern. I poured a glass of wine and decided to wait it out. I had to know. I fell asleep.

I woke this morning to find that he was still alive. And as of now, he still is. Now I'm thinking about the creepy secrecy and ritual of Vatican, "The Kremlin on the Tiber". And when my husband called this morning and joked, "How's the Poop?" I got really annoyed and felt extremely defensive of my Catholicism. He's a heathen Protestant, after all, so how could he understand?

I'm headed back to the TV for awhile. Then I'm going to a play tonight. I fear I really will be thinking about The Pope all evening. I never would've believed it.