obama us and tattoos

You could go through all the World Series photographs from history and find one of these Kama Sutra contortionist pitcher/catcher [uh oh--no insinuations intended] shots for every win. I have one on my wall from last year with the ever manly Jason Varitek and the ever destined-for-Riverdancing Jonathan Papelbon.



Here's even one from the dreaded Y...Y---oh god, you know what I'm trying to say. It was Don Larsen's perfect game in 1956 and none other than Yogi Berra is the Sutree.



In truth, Ozzie Guillen after the 2005 White Sox Series victory wasn't even eligible for the Sutra snap, but got into the flow anyway.



In other news, my Rosetta Stone progress is continuing with the Gallic talktalk. I will pretty much be able to converse on all aspects of bicycles when I am in Paris.

Is that your bicycle?

You know it, dude. It's MON VELO.

I see. What color is it? I am so FREAKING GLAD you asked. It's JAUNE, baby. Ze big yellow.

How many do you have? I have UN VELO. One. That's really all I can manage, though I am competent and well versed enough to speak of TROIS VELOS [my "trois" still gets nixed by the referee]



Les quatre velos sont bleues. The Rosetta Stone guy--the Stoner?--doesn't like my "quatre" either. I have tried it numerous different ways and can't please him. So I will not be able to discuss the Four Tops, the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse or the Three Stooges, at least not in any depth. How many faces of Eve were there? Oops, can't discuss that either. Plus I think our bicycle usage may be limited in December to start with, but what the heck. I'll keep my eyes peeled.

Stay tuned for my vast knowledge of tasses and pommes.

Est-ce que c'est votre pomme?

Yeah, and get your hands off it, you slimy apple thief. This one is for my main squeeze Adam and I'll be tempting him in private, okay?

A bientot, dear reader. Papers next week so possible bloopers en anglais.

love,

becky

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The annoying man on Rosetta Stone will not accept my pronunciations of the following words:


Cheval.
Non.
CheVAL.
Non.
CHEval.
Non.
CHEVAL, YOU MOFO, I'M SAYING IT THE BEST I CAN!
Non.

Professeur.
Non.
ProfesSEUR.
Non
All right, YOU say it.
Professeur.
Professeur.
Non.

Trois.
Non.
Twah.
Non.
Terwah.
Non
WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME GODDAMMIT, TROIS TROIS TROIS!
Non.

How likely is it that there will be a teacher with three horses in our hotel? See what I'm saying? They ought to get me to the good stuff, like yes bring me the satin sheath and the bonbons. I don't know how long I can last on this primitive material.
Zeut alors!
Merde!
A bientot

love,
becky

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Certainly a small bag and probably most of a big bag. Smart Food is the snack that keeps on giving too, because you can never quite lick your fingers clean.

The very largest size of Dairy Queen dip cone. Really, I'd rather not eat the cone, but I'm willing to sacrifice for the greater good.









Every drop of this baby and I could probably scoop the whipped cream from someone else's.

Definitely a box of these, my all-time faves. After one of my pregnancies, back in the 1920s, I got really into Social Teas. They are under-rated. They're so thin and delicate and crisp, they shouldn't count as real calories. If you eat them standing up, they don't.







I admit I cannot eat an entire box of chocolates. I can eat all the good ones, though, including buttercreams, those gold foiled ones, and the rock-hard sort of Heath Bar ones, risking my expensive teeth with every bite. No caramels for this girl and no icky jelly-filled.



Mmmmmm. I can't eat this whole bag, but probably half of it. Doritos need a partner. I don't care for them alone. Cole slaw is good or brie or even just a jar of Miracle Whip. YUM.



Now let me point out that it's been several years since I have done things like this. But I can dream, can't I? I guess I'm feeling nervous because I have a number of social outings planned and that scale across the hall from me is always very bitchy to me the next morning. I haven't told it yet that I'm thinking of replacing it.
I have Rosetta Stone!!! I am really learning French!
La femme mange!
love,
becky

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Here you can see some of the Japanese media sucking up to Dice K as he packs his gear to go home.
"Hey Dice! What are you hiding there in your hand? Is it your glasses?"
"Yeah, man! We thought the umpires were supposed to be blind! Funny, huh, hey Dice?"
Groveling is the same in any language.

So meanwhile, I have to get back to serious fashion accumulation before my trip to Paris. Trouble is, everything is 1) Stone Ugly or 2)Ridiculously Expensive or 3)Plain Stupid.
Here is a 2/3 combo from DKNY


Sleeveless? In winter? Let's call this the Hypothermia Special and at $345 you can really prove your brainlessness. Also, I probably don't have time to lose 70 pounds by December.

This one is very cute but is a clear #2 (Ridiculously Expensive):


It seems almost affordable at $175, but come on. The skirts always look normal length in the photographs and then when they arrive at your house, they are micro-mini. Uh, I don't think so. Still, this one is very cute, I must say.

This is cute, but a semi-Hypothermia item and I don't like the cutesie little gathers. I don't do gathers. It's a reasonable 32.95 from J. Jill, where I never have any luck. Their clothes are all for soccer moms who drive huge SUVs and want their pre-schoolers to learn French. Maybe I should hang out with them.

Talbot's just plain annoys me. HEY! WANNA PAY TWO HUNDRED BUCKS FOR A PLAIN PAIR OF BLACK PANTS? COME ON DOWN! This brown poncho-ish belted jacket with the bat wings is kind of cute, but on me it would have odd bulges that you wouldn't want to see, trust me.

Here's a cute Hypothermia-Anorexia dress from my main girlfriend, Liz Claiborne:

Only $129. We're getting into my range slowly. Not there yet, though. Let's try TJMaxx.
They make you put in your zip code and this is what it just said back to me:
There are no additional events in your area at this time. Please check back, as events are updated weekly.
Okay then, let's really dream and try Nordstrom's. What are they hawking this week?

What about these little booties/cuties guaranteed to send me straight down on the sidewalk again and break more of my elbows. Oh wait. I only have two. Guess how much these cost? Okay, I'll tell you. 465 clams. Come on, come on. Get up. Don't faint.

See now, I'm losing the will to live. I can never shop for very long. But I just found these on American Apparel, a lower priced outlet and can I believe my eyes?



Aren't these, well, tube socks? The kind your ten-year-old brother wore in 1970 when he was annoying the shit out of you and sticking gum in your hair?
I dunno, dear reader. What are they all thinking?
Je suis confusee.
A bientot
love,becky

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At least the Yankees didn't win.

I'm rooting for the Phillies.

love,b

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Jonathan Papelbon should be allowed free sundaes at Friendly's for life, or at least until Friendly's goes out of business.

Game 172
It was a corker. All tied up and the always manly Jason Varitek--Tek, Tekkie, Man With a Low Hairline, stands in. POP. BANG. HERE COME THE JUDGE.
Jason Varitek should be allowed free burger/fries ensemble plates from Friendly's for the same duration.


Here is the bench after his dinger (did I say that right?). He's been in a little bit of a slump, um, let's not talk about that. He is The Man. As I've always said, I know he would change my tire on the highway and that means a lot to me.
You can see baldie Kevin Youklis up there in the pic and he deserves a free Awful Awful at Friendly's any time he wants it.
"Are you taking your break now?"
"I'm trying to."
"Well, don't, because Kevin Youklis is out there and he wants another Awful Awful."
"No prob."

And while I'm helping to bankrupt Friendly's, Terry Francona at least deserves a bottomless cup of coffee whenever he is in there. Okay, that's enough. Hideki Okajima will have to pay for his own (though that really isn't fair).

Evidently, TBS had problems last night with the broadcast and the game couldn't be seen until the end of the first inning. I love their explanation for it. They suffered a failure of both "the main router and the backup router." Nicely done, guys.

HEY. THREE PEOPLE HERE ARE NAMED MURPHY. COINCIDENCE?

This is not a problem for me because I don't have cable. I am forced to listen to the radio unless I mooch off a friend and of course radio reception here at Camp Becky is sketchy, especially at night.
"Well, there you have it, Joe. And here comes David Ortiz to the plate, swinging the......OH BOY LOOK AT THAT......and makes the out. That completes two innings of play here at Tropicana Stadium, where the score is a very surprising Tampa Bay jaflskdjf and the Red Sox kfjsldkfj....."

Nineteen current Red Sox have played in a Game Seven. Only three Devil Rays (thanks, Amalie Benjamin at the Boston Globe), but of course we all know what that means. Bupkus. Zip. Well, unless it DOES mean something.

Hope is alive, dear reader, and let's hope we get to join Rocky B in Philadelphia.

TIMMY'S IN THE WELL, GIRL!!! GO FIND HIM!

NO, GIRL! DON'T BE DISTRACTED!
Let's keep our eye on the prize.
A bientot
love,becky

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Qu'est-ce que vous faites? Probably not the right spelling, but I can say it, dude. It means WHAT THE F ARE YOU DOING? Or just "what are you doing," delivered with a hard and stony stare.
No no, no hard and stony stares for moi. Lightness and sunshine will prevail.

La plume de ma tante has gotten stuck in your neck, monsieur. Ah! Desolee!
Votre mere est une tortoise.

Enchantee, monsieur, j'accepte your invitation pour le Grande Mac avec frites.


Qu'est-ce qui se passe ? What is happening? What UP?
J'ai chaud / J'ai froid. I have hot. I have cold.
J'ai faim / J'ai soif. I have hunger. I have thirst.
Je suis l'incredible whineeng beetch.


Je t'aime, mon cheri, mais non! La plume de ma tante is embedded in your eye! That's oueil to you! I mean vous! Changez your oueil, monsieur toute de suite. Yecq!

Above is an Edgar Degas painting of Mary Cassatt (my main homegirl fave), aptly titled Portrait of Miss Cassatt, Seated, Holding Cards, c. 1876-1878, oil on canvas. She shows a little weariness here, doesn't she, with the way she sits rather slouched with her elbows on her knees. Maybe Edgar was getting on her last nerve. Wiki says "She had strong feelings for him but learned not to expect too much from his fickle and temperamental nature. The sophisticated and well-dressed Degas, then forty-five, was a welcome dinner guest at the Cassatt residence." I am fascinated by the two of them.

I hope he was good to her.
He looks a little, well, hmm, how do we say, ze stuckus uppus? A poker uppus where the sun don't shine-us? He needs a little plume de ma tante if you ask me.
A bit of Red Sox next time, dear reader, and I hope it is not a post mortem.
A bientot
love,
becky

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Aaah. Sleeping late. No class.



That wonderful nyah-nyah feeling to the rest of the world that has to get up and get to work.



Not us. Not the government jobs. Don't think we aren't aware of our boondoggle status. Of course we don't feel that way on normal days, but today? Let it ride, baby.



I am spending my time wisely.
I am learning how to tie a scarf without strangling myself.



Soon this will be me [except with a black eye--see previous posts]. (Item available at Madam Butterfly in Sacramento, CA)

Why do I need to be so chic? Are you ready for this, dear reader?

BECAUSE I AM GOING TO PARIS!!!

Yes, that is correct. More to come at a later time. Suffice it to say I am planning to learn French in two months. Think I can do it? Don't answer that. Meanwhile:

Some quotes of note:

"Most bridal parties have one made of honor."

"It takes a lot of patients to deal with a child."

"We were playing Saint Burners and they are a weak team."

"Taking all the good notes given and paying attention to the teacher like a dog drooling over food is only going to help when trying to succeed in class."

Some things you can't argue with, dear reader. love,

becky

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Now on one hand, I could be depressed about my black eye. In truth, it's a purple and yellow eye. My old high school colors, actually, and maybe I should fly to Arkansas and attend a Catholic High game as the mascot. [ed. note: technically blue and white were Ms. Motew's school colors since she attended Mt. St. Mary's across town and not CHS, a school for boys]

I don't think so.

Instead, I will thank my lucky stars that my injuries were not worse. This eye thing will go away. The elbow thing and the finger thing are annoyingly painful and we are somewhat worried that the finger is broken. I see an orthopedic dude next week.

In other news, I have finally (after three years) figured out how to link to other blogs. If you notice over to the right, I have put some of my faves, including Made for Weather, blogged by my friend Kay in New Zealand, and if you love poetry and beautiful photos and funny observations, you will enjoy MFW. Also featured is Hello Again, Sydney blogged by my friend Mark in Sydney, Australia, and Mark has a keen eye and rapier-sharp wit. He may not be that good with an actual rapier, though, and I wouldn't want to drink with him and throw swords around. I already have one purple eye. Also recommended is the Haute Flash Contessa, my friend Danielle who is author of Don't Chew Jesus, a hilarious account of growing up Catholic and enduring the nuns. I will post more on these later, dear reader, but want to go for a walk on this glorious autumn day WHICH I AM APPRECIATING BEING ALIVE IN.

A bientot

love,

becky

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The answer to the question above is YES, BECKY!
IF YOU BUY A VIOLIN!
AND TAKE LESSONS!
AND PRACTICE DAY IN AND DAY OUT !
AND ALSO WAIT SIX WEEKS FOR YOUR ELBOWS TO HEEL!!!
YOU WILL PLAY THE VIOLIN!
Whew.

I was worried. This recovery stuff is crap. My eye laceration [god, I love saying that] looks bad but doesn't feel bad. I started out thinking I looked like Freddy Kreuger. But that's not quite it because only one part of my face, the upper right quadrant if you will, is affected.




Okay then, I look way better than Freddy. My face is more of a partial horror movie. Maybe I need something like this:




Yeah, that's more like it and I wouldn't mind wearing one of these. I think my students would quite enjoy it. Can't you see me at Hannaford's?

"Excuse me, what was that you said?"

"I said have a nice day, ma'am."

"Oh. I thought maybe you had something else to say."

"Good luck with the mask?"

Nothing will make those people say thank you, but never mind that now.



WHAT I HAVE LEARNED FROM THE EXPERIENCE:

1) Never wear high heels before 8am.

2) Consider not wearing high heels at all. Really think about it.

3) Never throw anything out, like your spare car key, so you don't have to pay $200 for a tow and a new key.

4) Never think your problems are bad.

5) Never think your day can't get any worse.

6) Never use an adverb to modify a noun.



Oh wait. That was for a different list. My brains are jumbled now and rearranged. You'd think with the blow I had I could speak French now or Russian.

I'm very very happy to be walking around on top of the ground and not under it [though walking around under it would be a real achievement, I think we'd all agree]. Love to you, dear reader, from your friend



Becky

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As I walked into my place of employment yesterday, my heel caught on something in the sidewalk and I went down SMACK on my head. It was comical in a way with blood spewing everywhere, a little Friday-the-Thirteenish for my tastes, and then all the kind people surrounding and trying to help me. I was taken to the ER nearby and got five stitches next to my eye. "Guess my modeling career is over," I said to the grouchy doc who was doing it. He said nothing...uh oh yikes. To top it off, I broke both elbows and have a wonky finger, though not broken. All of a sudden, everything I do requires strategy. I am managing, but won't be posting for a while. Stay sane, everybody. Remember--there's them and there's us.
love,
becky

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Fall foliage is beautiful. That's pretty much it.
People go googoo over the leaves and the so-called nip in the air. All right, let's be honest. I could do without the nip, okay? I would be just as happy if it would stay around 60 for the winter. Yeah, like that's going to happen.

I would be just as happy if the stock market went up. And like THAT's going to happen. And actually? That foliage, the really beautiful part, lasts about four days, and then we're stuck with six months of soul-crushing cold and sleet.

Oh wait a minute. I'm off track. sorry, dear reader. So the foliage is lovely. Score one.





I'm confusing myself.





Here in central Massachusetts the apple orchards are booming, sort of. When it doesn't rain for three days in a row, more people than you think like to traipse out and pick their own. I've never done it and never will. And if any more of them pop out into the middle of the road while I am trying to drive by, I'm going to kill one. Not to be grouchy. I love Empire apples. They last about two weeks and then we're stuck with six months of soul-killing cold and sleet. Did I already say that? Well, it bears saying again. But score two for the apples.



High school football is a lot of fun. Especially if you like freezing your kiester off and not being able to move your limbs when it is over. I don't have to do this any more, so I'll just have to envy you from afar. Score three, I guess.


We have a presidential election to enjoy. HAHAHAHAHAHAj. This is REALLY when I appreciate not having TV. Soon it seems that all the TVs are going to change over to digital, whatever that means. I guess it means that my TV, the brave old set on top of my clothes hamper in the bedroom, won't work. I haven't told it yet. It doesn't know. It proudly thinks I'll be watching the Super Bowl on it like always. Score zero for that.
One other good thing--Halloween candy. Okay, make it two--Halloween candy and bloopers.

"the so-called Shroud of Turin, supposedly pulled off the body of Jesus of Nazareth by Pontius Pilot, was tested in lavatories across Europe." [Even after his less than hygienic scientific methods, Pontius was still able to get a job with Delta Airlines.]

"Scientists around the world have been pouring over this issue."

"Updike does what a lot of short writers do, describe in great detail."

"I stared into the fire's gaze, slowly dying out."

A bientot

love,becky

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