Don’t mess with my trash…

It was bound to happen.

A few weeks ago I forgot to set my trash bin out the night before pickup and decided, stupidly, to leave it out the rest of the weekend as to not forget for today’s run. Not a habit I plan to develop because I think it is very tacky to keep that thing out. It makes the neighborhood look bad.

Anywho, I still had a few bags left the next morning and trotted out in my nightgown (also tacky) and got ready to dump the rest of my stuff when behold! There were several black bags of trash (filled to the brim, mind you) that I knew darn well were not mine. On top of that, they were filled with yard waste which you all know is a no-no. It wasn’t even bulk week! I was reminded of that King of the Hill episode…the same thing happened to Hank, though I was only a tad tempted to dig through the bags of trash to ID my bin-stuffer.

Mad as Cain (or McCain for that matter), I looked around and tried to see who the culprit was…yes. In my nightgown. All I did was kind of look for evidence of who might have cut some branches down recently. And of course I could not figure it out.

What would you have done? I’m sure this won’t be the last time this happens and even if I put my trash out the same day, who is to say someone won’t add last minute junk to my bin?
I need advice as a new homeowner, missing her old apartment dumpster.

I know my quest for advice is a little late, because once I got dressed that morning, I went to my computer and got to work. I typed these words:

KEEP YOUR TRASH TO YOURSELF

THIS IS A FRIENDLY REMINDER

TO THROW YOUR TRASH IN YOUR OWN BINS.

IF YOURS IS FULL, DON’T WAIT TO THE

LAST MINUTE NEXT TIME…

I posted this note on every bin on my alley. Think the neighbors hate me yet?

Confession…

I have an increasing crush on John Popper! Maybe because he was so sweet and considerate and he didn’t know me from Adam. He didn’t have to get me in that show. And he didn’t try anything funny…more than I can say for people who aren’t traveling musicians weary from the road…

Don’t worry. I’m not going to go crazy fanatical or anything. But I may consider flying to Washington for the end of their tour! Or maybe I’ll just dream I did. 🙂

By the way, I shot the above photo at House of Blues Dallas on Nov. 5.

The John Popper experience

OK. So I’ve always been a fan of Blues Traveler. But I have to admit, I’ve never been to a show.  So when I saw John Popper at Frankie’s in Uptown on election night, I was star struck but didn’t really know much about Blues Traveler’s latest album. However, after chatting for a little while, Popper said “Write your name down” so I could get into their show at House of Blues the next night.

I grabbed a matchbook and wrote it down. And because I’m way too curious, I decided I would head out to HOB last night to really see if my name was on the list…and sure enough it was. Along with backstage stickers!

But like I said, fan — but not really aware of the new stuff. I’ve always heard BT puts on a great show and last night was no different. He played the old standard, “Run Around” of course but some of the new songs were cool too. I’m definitely going to get the CD.

After the show, and a few harmonica tosses later that I managed to never catch but one guy got knocked in the head with, we got to head to the Green Room. I wasn’t even in the door when he yelled, “Jenice! I was looking at that book of matches today and hoped you would come!” and then he kissed my hand.So because I didn’t get the photo on Tuesday, I got my picture taken with him where he proceeded to kiss me on the cheek. Look folks, I’m not a groupie but that was kind of cute. He even signed my reporter’s notebook and asked, “Did I spell your name right?”

When we left I got his artist manager’s card and they seemed interested in photos…or maybe they were just being polite. Either way, who cares! It’s not everyday you get a kiss on the cheek from a Grammy winner.

Vote for the fairy…

Or go ahead and vote for Obama or McCain. I don’t mind. Just vote.

The new W.

I’m sorry. I may be ignoring the issues right now, but John McCain’s “breast of fresh” flub from the last debate has got me inspired to find some links to his Freudian slip. Seems like we have already had eight years of odd comments, mixups and unintentionally funny speeches with George Bush. If John gets elected, here’s to four more!

http://airamerica.com/content/breast-fresh-air

http://www.buzzfeed.com/nicholas/sarah-palin-a-breast-of-fresh-air-5k

http://www.reddit.com/r/reddit.com/comments/77ef6/did_mccain_just_say_that_america_needs_a_breast/

I dunno. Just proving it wasn’t just me that thought he said that!

“A breast of fresh air…”

Geez, McCain. I think that was a really good reason to pick Palin instead of Kay Bailey Hutchison.

Gruesome discovery at home…

I posted this over at my work blog. But I just could not pass up posting it here. It’s not often you find a body part in your driveway…

Yesterday evening when I came home from work, I went outside to take in my garbage bins as I normally do on a Monday. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary other than the fact that the weather seemed to be shifting to the cooler side. First I took in the regular trash bin and then on my way back to get the recycle bin, I noticed something odd in my driveway, just outside of the garage door.

At first it looked to be one of those black sponge rollers. But it seemed moist, like clay or something so I took a stick and picked at it. But the more I moved it around, the more it seemed apparent that this was no sponge roller or piece of felt or mud or even doggie business. No this thing looked to have nostrils. And I was quite sure by the time I had rolled that thing halfway down the alley to get it off my drive that it was certainly a nose. Not sure what to do, I took two sticks like chopsticks and tried to pick it up. That took about 10 minutes as the floppy thing kept falling back on the ground. Finally I was able to move it near the creek by my house and I just stood there. Not sure what to do…

So I went upstairs and took a shower. Being that I’m supposed to be a journalist, my curiosity and need to “do the right thing” overcame me and I figured I should at least take photos of it. Of course by the time I was back in the alley, my neighbors were walking their dogs. I told them of my discovery (because I’m sure I was about to look really funny taking snapshots of mud and grass) and I kept reassuring them I wasn’t nuts. However when I tried to find it, I forgot where I hoisted the thing!

Lessons to be learned from The Jazz Singer

When I was a very small child, any time I saw Neil Diamond on television or heard him on the radio, I would say, “Daddy! The Jazz Singer!” I think for the longest time I thought Neil Diamond’s name was Jazz Singer. I don’t really remember watching the movie. I mean, it came out in 1980. I’m 30 years old. But I remember that glittery blue shirt and scarf he wore at the end of the movie when he sang, “America.”  And he seemed to mean every word. In my book it’s America’s song. Or should be. I know this movie is a remake, but who knows much about the 1927 version? OK. That’s a lie. Al Jolson in black face…

But if you don’t know the 1980 movie, here is the long and the short of it: Jewish cantor living in New York sets out, against his traditional father’s wishes, to achieve his dream of being a singer. It’s such a basic plot, but something about it rings so true of lessons we should learn of tolerance, acceptance, forgiveness and being true to yourself. Maybe it’s female hormones, but I’ve just finished watching it on this lovely Sunday evening and balled my eyes out. Oh my goodness, when Neil’s character tries to set things right with his father by singing on  Yom Kippur (the day atonement) and hearing the power of those words I don’t even understand and his father’s expression along with his — oye, I’m getting vaclemped. Talk amongst yourselves while I collect myself. Topic: 2008’s choices of vice-president candidates and potential reality shows about them…

OK…I’m alright. If you haven’t seen it, all of this may seem silly. Actually if you have, I may still seem a little odd and blogging about it probably is odd. It’s just that it brought me back to being that silly little kid who ran after her father and spent Saturdays digging in the backyard for “fossils.” Things were not always simple back then, but the complexity of my life in those impressionable years was minimal. And looking at today’s world, the 80s had more than their share of, should I say, hiccups? But the place we are now scares the crap out of me. Maybe at the brink of when The Jazz Singer came out in theaters, words like tolerance and acceptance were still new and truly mattered. But today they can be, at times, stifled. Sure. We are in a new world where a black man or a woman can be president, but I find the fact that these two things are so landmark has exposed to the world how much we are still so behind in our thinking.

If we were ahead, these things maybe wouldn’t matter so much or be so landmark. Ok. Thinking about that after crying over The Jazz Singer might very well be very, very odd. Now all I need is ice-cream, a DVD of the last season of Sex and the City and a fuzzy white robe and I’m all set for estrogen-land.

Rate My Space: A kind of certain madness

If ever there was a more definitive moment where an individual is at his/her most self-important finest, it is when said person uploads that very first photo on the HGTV madhouse that is Rate My Space.

As long as I have been on my own, I have always felt that when I decorated the place I lived, I had what I would like to call eclectic taste on a budget. That said, I never really thought I didn’t have taste in decorating. I just was a victim of making do with what I had/could afford or what was given to me. And if I had the proper moola, every room would look a million times different. I am also a victim of an unhealthy HGTV obsession. And it has morphed into something really scary since buying my house. I watch everyday and now I’ve officially become a Rate My Space user. If you haven’t ever heard of this, it’s basically a part of the HGTV Web site in which you upload photos of your home, cross your fingers, rip yourself wide open and lie there as you let people dissect your furnishings and decor. Fun, right? Well now this concept has carried over onto the HGTV channel itself in that the lowest rated homes get renovated and are inspired by the top rated homes on the site. Madness, right? Why leave yourself open to such criticism, you might ask. Well, because I like the impartiality of it all…and I of course hope to one day be picked for the show. Sad, right?

So I’m actually risking a lot giving you guys the link but why not? Feel free to make fun, but know that I’ve changed some stuff up since these photos but not much. Look, I had all this crap before I got the place. Minus the red couch. Just trying to make it all work somehow. Don’t even ask about the glass blocks. They were some kind of charming monstrosity (yes, I see them this way — good/bad, interesting/tacky). I keep trying something new to make those things work for me, but alas, I’m sure I’ve missed the mark and I’m exhausted. Some of the comments on my spaces are brutal but I think if I showed the culprits my debt to income ratio, they would understand! In the end, maybe it will result in HGTV FINALLY coming to my little abode.

Bottom line: What people think I suppose means squat but if the average person really believed that, a Web site like Rate My Space probably wouldn’t get as much traffic as it gets. A new photo is uploaded every 30 seconds. I’ve timed it.

Rick Noriega blew his nose today

I don’t know what to do about it, but I have to know every single detail and move of U.S. Senate hopeful Rick Noriega. And it’s not by choice. I have somehow fallen into the spam trap of getting all of his press releases. And it’s not just one or two a week — it’s daily. Some of them might as well say, “Rick Noriega wiped his ass today, Sen. Cornyn doesn’t wipe his ass…” Oh,  Sen. Cornyn, of course, is our incumbent. The releases I get, as I’m sure so many others seem to get too, usually have a link at the end of it that you can click to unsubscribe but surprise, surprise — it never works.

I am the victim of repeat political emails. I get so much stuff that I don’t want — from Bush conspiracy theorists to “Texans Can’t Afford Another Cornyn Blank Check.” I think the Noriega ones bug me the most because I get them from more than one source and sometimes even twice a day.So now all I can do is set up my Outlook to send all of these useless emails to my junk folder, which still has to be checked from time to time to empty it out. IMHO, this type of propaganda doesn’t help my voting process. In fact, it endures it. I get so irritated that I feel like voting for the candidate who harasses me the least. I guess there isn’t much a political PR flap can do? to get the news out about their candidate.  I mean the only way to EVER get your good word out is to spam the crap out of journalists inboxes, right? So much for the corporate spam filter…