Friday, July 19, 2013

What's In a Name? (Letters, mostly)

Okay, I'm going to start this entry with a disclaimer:  I may have very well blogged about this subject before, thereby repeating myself.  However, I am a victim of Extreme Laziness, and don't feel like researching it, plus, also, if I can't remember, I'm betting that the three of you who read this can't remember either (birds of a feather, etc., etc.) so I'm soldiering on.

I have a thing about names.  I love them.  Much in the same way I love kittens and hugs/kisses, and beer.  I get all giggly and warm and fuzzy inside when I hear a name I like.  For instance, my favorite current cat name is Tallulah Fuzzypants.  See???  And we just got a package from a law firm whose name is Tuggle Duggins.  Adorable, right?  You cannot say those names without smiling.  Really, you can't. Something horribly vile will happen to you instantaneously if you try.  So don't.  You've been warned.

One of my all-time favorite names is a High Society, Ultra-Snooty, Dripping With Money, Pittsburgh (Imagine if Mt. Brook and Greystone had a baby, dipped it in gold, and covered it with diamonds) marriage from the 70's, when Tracy Titsworth married Sterling Pankratz.  Those rich muthas deserved those laughable names!

Now, Debbie, you chide, they can't help what names they have, it's not nice to make fun of them.  Debbie to Chider, Fuck Off.

My love for quirky names probably stems from the fact that my name is so boring I yawn every time  I say it.  Debbie...*yawn*...Smith.  And before I was a Smith, I was a ...*yawn*...Brown.  It sometimes makes me regret breaking off that engagement to Pepe Poopacarcheck. 

One of the ironies (others, I assume, covered in my possibly existing previous post) of my Name Love is that names themselves (adorable or otherwise) are my Achilles Heel (I orginally typed "hell", which would have worked, too) when it comes to learning lines. (Okay, there were waayy too many paranthetical phrases in that last sentence.  But I like them, so they're staying.  Oooo...I'm feisty today!)  In the last play I did, I had to remember 4,397 Jewish surnames.  Oy Vay!  And in the play I'm working on now, the names are in French.  18th Fucking Century French.  Quelle Merde!

Well, that is the yin and yang that is life.  And struggling over a Markowitz-Waldbaum or Merteuil is well worth the joy of uttering the best attorney name ever, Bob Lablaw.  (Courtesy Arrested Development) So let's hear 'em, guys and gals.  What are some of your favorite funny names?  I'm listening....





Thursday, July 4, 2013

Hate,hate, hate, loathe, despise, and hate

That's a line from Star Spangled Girl.  Anyway....

I have always had a thing about not hating people.  I hate lots of stuff; math, car trouble, bigotry, halibut, dentistry (as opposed to dentists).  But I don't believe in hating people.

There have been people in my life I haven't cared for, obviously.  And there are a very few people I feel have mistreated me or someone I loved.  And while I had moments of intense anger at these people and I still feel their behavior was horrible, I don't hate them.  You can't change the past.  But you don't have to live there, either.  (Until I get senile.  Then I'm going to live in 1963.  That was a good year.)

The few times I let myself get sucked into hating people, all it did was make me hate myself for wasting time on an emotion that was useless and draining.  Did my hatred change the person's behavior?  No.  Did my hatred make the pain go away?  No.  Did the hatred make me ask myself rhetorical questions and answer them?  Sadly, yes.  Lose, lose, lose.

I believe in love.  Admittedly, I was embarrassed to write that über hokey sentence.  (And did my iPad just  put an umlaut over the u??  Awesome!). But I think there needs to be three different words for love.  One is the love you (and by you, I mean me) feel for ice cream and fireworks and theatre and long weekends.  Another is the love you feel for the people/animals in your life that make you happy.  And then there should be a Third Love.  And this is what we should all have for Everyone, just because it's the right thing to do, and things would go a whole lot smoother if Everyone did that.  Chunky is okay for peanut butter, but smooth is preferable for life.

I don't have a Humorous Tagline for this one, sorry.  And I know this is a far from original idea.  But I'm more than naive enough to think if it's said often enough, it just may happen.
   

Monday, July 1, 2013

Tech Talk

I do not claim to know anything about technology.  The fact that I am able to stumblebumble my way through wonders such as blogs,  Facebook and toaster ovens without (usually) disastrous results is nothing short of a miracle.  This last weekend, my kids tried to convince me that I should be on Twitter.  I do have a Twitter account, but I never use it because I don't get it.  If I feel the urge to write down (supposedly) humorous thoughts, I don't want to have to worry about counting how many letters I can use.  After all, this is Amurica, and Publication Without Calculation was one of our Founding Fathers' credos. 

I also don't  understand the rules.  I just went to pull up blogspot.com through Google on my work computer and I got the ol' Skull and Crossbones; this site blocked by your organization because it is Vilely Evil and will Bring Down Society As We Know It and Why The Fuck Aren't You Working?  So I went to pull it up via MSN  (on the very same computer) and it pops up, pretty as a picture, also rosy cheeked and big smiles, begging me to express my opinions for all the world (if the world population is 23) to read.  Go know.

I am not really  interested in learning the particulars of technocrap, anymore than I was ever interested in learning how a car works or why everything that is fun to do or tastes good is always bad for you.  It just is. I accept that.  And I work around all these things to the best of my ability (Last Rated at C-).  I have killed three computers, two microwaves, countless cars and a guinea pig (none on purpose), and I still manage to keep from drowning in the 21st Century Ocean.  So far. 

But don't place any bets on me ever owning a hovercraft.