Barb's Burblings

Word to John Krasinski on the jellybean issue

There's a poster at work that is totally awesome. It has a very stern-faced woman, hair pulled back except for a stray piece across her forehead. She's somewhat shifty-eyed. Behind her stands a soldier. He is In Charge. He is ready to Kick Ass and Take Names. And at the top of the poster, in large letters: Information Security. I mean, I get that information is security is important. I have a security clearance (...which is just totally bizarre) and I understand confidentiality. But the poster reminds me of nothing more than the poster we had hanging up in our bathroom in college. It was one of those World War II ones and had a man driving along in a covertible. Next to him, riding shotgun, is a ghostly image of Hitler. The message on that poster? "When you ride alone, you ride with Hitler." So whenever I see that "Information Security" poster, that's what springs to mind.

In other work-related news, I was proofing a document on ethics, and one of the references was a book called Business Ethics, which naturally made me think of Billy Madison, and the showdown between Billy and Bradley Whitford. Speaking of which, did everyone see where the judge in Texas cited the speech used in that scene? (You know the speech, the one ending, "Everyone in this room is now dumber for having listened to it. I award you no points, and may God have mercy on your soul.")

And if you're not watching The Office, you should at least check out the fake "The More You Know" clips they did, because they rock.

I actually don't need convincing

Dream of meeting a hot Scottish guy? Want a free trip to Scotland? Check out Date A Hot Scot.

The thought of "creepy-crawling" still freaks me out

So apparently reading Helter Skelter messed with me more than I thought. It's been almost 2 years, but the story of the Manson family still freaks me out.

I saw Assassins last night, done by a local community theater. They did quite a good job; I was impressed. It'll be interesting to compare it to the production I see in June, done by a professional company. Anyway, one of the characters is Squeaky Fromme, a would-be assassin of Gerald Ford and a member of the Manson family. And I don't know whether it was the character alone or how the actress played her, but she totally freaked me out. It was probably a combination of the character and the actress. Anyway, creepy.

But a good show! It's the latest in a line of shows that I listen to nonstop (following the footsteps of Phantom of the Opera, Les Miserables, and Ragtime).

Gibby's wife is way hotter

When Kris Benson got traded to the Orioles, a lot of the male Oriole fans (the same ones, mind you, who rag on the girls in O's forums drooling over the players) went into a tizzy. Because not only would we be getting a decent middle-of-the-rotation guy, we'd be getting his wife, Anna. And they weren't excited about her charitable efforts. No, Mrs. Benson is a model. All the guys were drooling over her, excited to see her at the Yard, etc., etc. To which I say, "You're getting excited over this?"

Girl looks rough. I mean, ouch.

Just ignore Brent's cell phone. Really.

St. Patrick's Day (+1) at Gettysburg was awesome, as always. It was nice catching up with a bunch of different people, however briefly. There's really nothing not to enjoy about it. OK, it would've been nice if it had been a bit warmer...but that's minor. Who knows how long we'll keep doing this, but I'm enjoying it while it lasts.

Before the fun of the weekend, there was the fun of seeing Billy Joel in concert on Thursday (set list). It was a blast. He did a good job of mixing up his music and poking fun at himself ("Thanks for coming--I really need the money. You wouldn't believe my car insurance!"). I was a bit sad he didn't sing "Lullabye (Goodnight, My Angel)," but that's OK. There's just something so cool about seeing him play "Piano Man" and having him let the audience sing the chorus.

In the Big City

I love New York. But I fear the New York subway. There are so many lines, and express vs. local, and a lack of signage...I find it intimidating. So I was pleased when I realized that Carrie and I would have it easy when we went to see Hedda Gabler this past Saturday. The play was in Brooklyn, but there was a train that goes right from Penn Station to the correct stop.

Little did I know that they were doing some sort of track work. We got on a train and the conductor started talking. There were signs on the windows. Something about the 5 acting as the 2 and having to change at Bowling Green. Even the New Yorkers on the train were confused. That's never a good sign.

But we got to the play on time, and I'm glad we did, because it was fantastic. I wasn't familiar with the play, but I certainly didn't expect it to be as funny as it was. (I mean, I don't have a correlation between Ibsen and humor in my brain.) The acting, the sets, the costumes...awesome.

To make the weekend better, we spent the weekend at Carrie's house, where we got to play with the six adorable puppies her family's dogs had. Too cute! They were six weeks old and still small enough that you could carry around two or three at a time--easily. They were particularly cute when all bundled up together, sleeping. Playing with them was also fun, but there was a possibility that one could poop or pee on you, which isn't so cool.

Current song in my head:
"Every Day is a Winding Road" by Sheryl Crow

Cowboy this! (I'm not really sure what that means)

Dear Kevin Millar,

I want to like you. I really do. Admittedly, I was ambivalent when the Orioles signed you. I mean, you used to play for the Red Sox, and everyone knows how I feel about them. But that's OK. You had won me over on the Red Sox episode of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy. You'd do for a year or two, I figured. And you're doing a good job proving yourself this spring. You're fun in the clubhouse (I loved the story about putting your cell phone in Bruce Chen's locked--who then put it in Erik Bedard's--and having it go off during a meeting). You're hitting pretty well in ST games (though Daniel Cabrera was wowing everyone last spring, then got completely roughed up in the first game he pitched). And your new teammates seem to like you.

I do have one problem. You keep talking about wanting the Orioles to allow facial hair. No, Kevin. Just, no. This isn't the Red Sox. We don't want a bunch of shaggy idiots running around Camden Yards. We like our boys clean-shaven. I know you weren't at FanFest in January, so you didn't get to see what these guys look like with facial hair. It's just wrong, Kevin. Wrong. Your former teammate Johnny Damon sucked it up and shaved when he joined another team. I don't hear him trying to talk the Yankees into changing their policy. Follow his lead.

Seriously, Kevin. Drop the facial hair issue, and I'll cheer you on as much as I cheer on the rest of my boys. See you on Opening Day!

Kisses,
Barb

P.S. Tell Brian I say hello, and that I'm really happy he took regular batting practice yesterday--ahead of schedule!

If that's profane...

Today, as I do every Wednesday, I read the online chat with the Washington Post's restaurant critic. Everything was going along pretty much normally, until I got to the chat's penultimate comment:

What's with all the profanity today?: Several people have made references to a dining experience "sucking." In my day, that term referred to something that Monica Lewinsky did that would CERTAINLY make for an unusual dining experience. Come on, people, can't we keep it clean?

Is "suck" really a bad word? I can't imagine that it is; I mean, my mom was fine with me saying it, and she once told me that she felt that women shouldn't swear. She yelled at me for using the word "schmuck." Maybe I'm just a bit wilder than I thought. Or maybe this person is a bit too sensitive. I'd hate to see how he/she reacts to the amount of casual swearing one hears nowadays.

Oscar, Oscar, Who should win?

I'm pretty upset about Crash winning Best Picture last night. Not surprised, but upset. As I said before, of the five nominated pictures, I liked that one the least. If I had my way, Munich would've gotten Best Picture. Great performances, riveting story (OK, except for the end, which dragged), and thought-provoking. But I guess I'm one of the few who thinks that.

It makes me sad to see Jon Stewart getting fairly roundly bashed in the press for his performance as host. I thought he did a great job, and I think most of the people viewing at home agree with me (except Tom Shales, who can bite me). But the audience at the theater? Not so much.

And I guess I'm the only one in the world who likes montages. Seriously, I can't get enough of those. Of course, I also don't really care about winners getting their acceptance speeches cut short. Tough luck! Show another montage!

And George Clooney? I love you. And that love has only grown with time. And if you keep doing what you're doing, it will just continue growing.

Current song in my head:
"Another National Anthem" from Assassins

Welcome back, boys

I am positively giddy. My radio is on and I'm listening to baseball. I don't care that it's just spring training. Just hearing the voices again, the call of the game...it's fantastic. This is actually the third game they O's have played this spring, but my computer at work doesn't allow streaming radio, so I had to follow them by refreshing a site that gave scores. Honestly, I can't think of a better way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Well...it would be nice to be in Ft. Lauderdale, but oh well.

Hurrah! Spring is here!