The Frey Fray, Kathy Griffin's House and Unrelated Matters
Not long ago, Daring Young Mom asked for help naming her new Daring Young Van. (I think she settled on Vincent Van Go, but you'll have to go over there to see for sure.)
I'm almost finished reading A Severe Mercy. They lived in places call "St. Udio" and "Glenmerle," and drove cars with names that escape me at the moment.
What do these two things have in common? I'll tell you. Vehicle naming.
For whatever reason, I have never named a house or a car or a truck or a vehicle of any kind. I don't even use the cats' proper names--they are all "kitty" to me. I can't keep the kids straight. I end up saying (literally, I am not kidding), "You! Whatever your name is!" Calling the children a car name might damage their delicate psyches and we all know I'm all about pampering the wee ones.
Naming inanimate objects seems like fun, however, and right now, I'd like to begin.
My car? Pamela Anderson. Because we got it used and it's been around the block a few times. (And now, please think up your own joke because when I thought too much I started to veer into rated-R humor in my head and I just had to stop. But I'll pause while you laugh at yourself.)
I did make a list today and, boy, do I feel better. I named my list, "Step-by-Step: Becoming a Nurse." Doesn't that sound like a magazine article title? I have three easy steps and I even highlighted the prerequisite courses I'll be able to take online. First, I must take some placement tests, so I requested "Forgotten Algebra" from the library. If all goes well, on January 21, I'll be taking tests. Unless I decide that's too soon--and it might be. Wait, is that Saturday? Well, okay, maybe in a few weeks. How about February? But not the 4th or the 25th or the 18th, either. I'm busy those days.
I finished A Severe Mercy, and so tonight, I started A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. He begins his memoir by stating in the "Preface to this Edition": "For all the author's bluster elsewhere, this is not, actually, a work of pure nonfiction. Many parts have been fictionalized in varying degrees, for various purposes."
In light of the Frey Fray, I bet James Frey wishes he'd put a similar warning in his memoir, huh?
Here is how pathetic I am. Just awhile ago, after finishing exercising (every day, since December 1st--be impressed, even though my metabolism is unimpressed and seems not to have taken notice of my daily exertion)--which I did while reading the aforementioned book during the commericals of "American Idol"--I came downstairs and sat in the green recliner and clicked from channel to channel. (Before I came downstairs, I watched the first skaters in "Skating with Celebrities" on FOX. In one word? No. No, no, no, no, no.) Anyway, once downstairs, I settled on "Cribs," specifically the episode with Kathy Griffin. I couldn't stop watching, even when I saw myself for the pitiful creature I have become. I'm not blind. I stare at my self in horror and disappointment.
But I couldn't stop because when I was in junior high, I had to design a house in art class. And I designed a house with a waterfall in the living room. Lo and behold, Kathy Griffin is living in the house I created in my mind.
I could have had a career in architecture. Who knew?
I'm almost finished reading A Severe Mercy. They lived in places call "St. Udio" and "Glenmerle," and drove cars with names that escape me at the moment.
What do these two things have in common? I'll tell you. Vehicle naming.
For whatever reason, I have never named a house or a car or a truck or a vehicle of any kind. I don't even use the cats' proper names--they are all "kitty" to me. I can't keep the kids straight. I end up saying (literally, I am not kidding), "You! Whatever your name is!" Calling the children a car name might damage their delicate psyches and we all know I'm all about pampering the wee ones.
Naming inanimate objects seems like fun, however, and right now, I'd like to begin.
My car? Pamela Anderson. Because we got it used and it's been around the block a few times. (And now, please think up your own joke because when I thought too much I started to veer into rated-R humor in my head and I just had to stop. But I'll pause while you laugh at yourself.)
I did make a list today and, boy, do I feel better. I named my list, "Step-by-Step: Becoming a Nurse." Doesn't that sound like a magazine article title? I have three easy steps and I even highlighted the prerequisite courses I'll be able to take online. First, I must take some placement tests, so I requested "Forgotten Algebra" from the library. If all goes well, on January 21, I'll be taking tests. Unless I decide that's too soon--and it might be. Wait, is that Saturday? Well, okay, maybe in a few weeks. How about February? But not the 4th or the 25th or the 18th, either. I'm busy those days.
I finished A Severe Mercy, and so tonight, I started A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers. He begins his memoir by stating in the "Preface to this Edition": "For all the author's bluster elsewhere, this is not, actually, a work of pure nonfiction. Many parts have been fictionalized in varying degrees, for various purposes."
In light of the Frey Fray, I bet James Frey wishes he'd put a similar warning in his memoir, huh?
Here is how pathetic I am. Just awhile ago, after finishing exercising (every day, since December 1st--be impressed, even though my metabolism is unimpressed and seems not to have taken notice of my daily exertion)--which I did while reading the aforementioned book during the commericals of "American Idol"--I came downstairs and sat in the green recliner and clicked from channel to channel. (Before I came downstairs, I watched the first skaters in "Skating with Celebrities" on FOX. In one word? No. No, no, no, no, no.) Anyway, once downstairs, I settled on "Cribs," specifically the episode with Kathy Griffin. I couldn't stop watching, even when I saw myself for the pitiful creature I have become. I'm not blind. I stare at my self in horror and disappointment.
But I couldn't stop because when I was in junior high, I had to design a house in art class. And I designed a house with a waterfall in the living room. Lo and behold, Kathy Griffin is living in the house I created in my mind.
I could have had a career in architecture. Who knew?
posted by Melodee at Wednesday, January 18, 2006
9 Comments:
Lars, at www.brandywinebooks.blogspot.com is in the process of buying a house. He has already named it "Blithering Heights". I wish I'd thought of that!
Not so creative over here. We refer to our house as 'The Manse'. I've concidered "St. Even's", but it just doesn't have the ring I'd hoped it would.
re: Names - When I was single, I named my cars - "Fred the Red Fiat" was my favorite. But, like you, I can't keep my kids' namees straight. "Hey, you! Yeah, you, kid! What's your name again?"
"Awww, MoooOOom!"
Nice to see you're taking in books. I've been on my own journey where that's concerned. Never been much of a reader, myself. Mostly because reading hurts... a long story about my eyes, however I have taken up a couple books recently: Eats, Shoots and Leaves, as well as "Rich Dad, Poor Dad".
That bit about Pam Anderson was cute... cruel, but cute.
Be well.
D
Wow, I just started the very same book, A heartbreaking work of staggering genius....small world! I was having a particularly long visit on the toilet and it was lying at my feet in the bag I had hastily brought in the bathroom and dropped on the floor while I was sprinting for the toilet.
My suburban has been affectionately named Missbourbon by my twins. They have never said Suburban and have always said that. So I ordered a car tag that says Missbourbon. My jeep doesn't have a name other than Mom's car.
When I get my bike I will most certainly name it.
I wish you luck on your tests. Becoming a nurse sounds like it would be a rewarding experience. I n fact, I believe that when it comes to-
Wait a sec... that can't be right... Hang on, let me re-read this...
What? Get outta here! Let me Re-re-read that...
Woah, woah, woah, wait a sec?
You?re telling me?
That Kathy Lee Griffin was on Cribs.
I repeat? Cribs.
Isn?t that a show on MTV?
So? you?re telling me? that Kathy Lee Griffin was on MTV? on purpose?!? And NOT in her usual capacity as the rain on a youthful parade, or the butt of some cruel, but funny joke?
Pardon me? I must cut this comment short. I need to check the forecast for flaming hail, locusts, and falling frogs from a blood-red sky.
I think I'd stick to the nursing thing.
But that is really funny. I always designed houses too, sometimes actually on paper. Maybe I should start watching "Cribs."
The celebrity skating thing, not so much.
I'm so bad with the name thing. I guess I inherited from my mom. She did it all the time, too, and she only had two kids. And I was the only girl. How hard can it be?
Apparently pretty hard. I'm always calling my youngest daughter by the cats name. I'm saving up for her therapy already...
My first car was named Sonny. He was an old Datsun wagon and bright orange. One time I was at the gas station and the attendant referred to him as a her. How could he have such gender confusion? This car was anatomically correct, I don't know how he missed that thing hanging out of the back fender. Duh!
I have put in a couple of months of exercise myself, and I must be doing something wrong. Oh, I think it might have something to do with chocolate...
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