It's a small Krishna after all
Yes, the world's first Hindu theme park in in the works in India. Already being referred to as "Disneyland on the Ganges," this 25-acre park will recreate great moments in Hindu mythology through rides, a museum, a sound and light show and, of course, a food court.

In other odd news, a San Diego high school is now paying snitches through a special tip line to report suspicious activity on campus. Ah life in America!

Turn off your TV
So it's turn off your TV week. Are ya gonna?

I'm not. Aside from the fact that my husband and I are completely hooked on a Spanish-language soap opera which we do not at all understand, I'm just not willing to "do what I'm told" when it comes to things like this. I'm not a TV addict (aside from the aforementioned show). Once it's over (at 9 pm) we usually turn the TV off and read. Other than that, not much. I TiVo a lot of history programs and cozy British mysteries, and As Time Goes By which I love. But we watch only 2 shows on network TV and can easily spend the evening with music and books.

That being said, however, I know a lot of people are total addicts and have the TV on whenever they're awake, whether there's anything worth watching or not. Do you think it's a gender thing? Because I've noticed that men are far more liable to zone out and realize they've just sat through 30-minutes of some home decorating show simply because it was on.

Monster Pope!
I think the Catholic Church missed out on a goldmine yesterday by not selling the naming rights to the new Pope. Here in America, where everything is for sale, we've become accustomed to baseball teams playing, not in "Candlestick Park," but in "SBC Park." We've got Network Associates Colessium, Monster Park, and other atrocious locations.

Imagine how much money the Church could have received, and how much good could have been done in poor parishes around the world, by selling the Pope's name. Imagine Virgin Megapope! Pope EXXON. And, my favorite, iPope.

Sigh...if only they'd put some thought into this, they'd be richer than they already are.

Glitter-less
Well, my addiction to La Mujer en el Espejo continues. The show that we call Glitter and Gopher has had us hooked for about a month now. No, we still don't speak Spanish...although we have bought a Spanish-English dictionary. But we visit the dicussion boards daily and we're doing a pretty good job of figuring things out on our own.

Tonight, however, no Glitter. Because of the Pope there's a special 2-hour finale of the novela that was supposed to end on Friday. So I have to start my week without my daily dose of stiletto heels and cringe-inducing eye makeup.

So what's your guilty TV pleasure these days? Come on, I've fessed up about watching Spanish language soap operas that I don't even understand. (Not to mention Japanese TV as well. Don't get me started on how much I miss Sakura on Fuji TV). Other than that, I don't watch much besides British mysteries. Oh yes, I do watch Desperate Housewives, but not much else. So come on...what do you watch that you can't believe you tune into every week?

I'd like a pound of food, please
Today is my husband's birthday. (Happy birthday, husband!) I'm working from home, but took time out to play hooky and take him out to breakfast -- his favorite meal. Which leads me to today's useless observation. Why do restaurants insist that everyone who goes out to breakfast is hungry enough to eat several pounds of food?

There seem to be only two food choices. The tiny-small (a side order of toast or a bowl of cereal) or the "hello, I've been working in a coal mine for 3-days straight please bring me an entire cow." There's no in-between.

The place we went to brought me an omelette that must have been made with about 4 eggs, a half-pound of veggies, and about 3 cups of cheese. Plus a small lake of hash browns and a bagel. I think I ate about 1/4 of it.

Now I realize that I don't eat all that much, and that there are many people who do work in coal mines and who do want that entire cow first thing in the morning. But I just wish there was some option other than ordering a combination of 4 side dishes or have a plankful of meat and eggs plopped in front of you.

And remember when "servers" used to be "waiters?"

It's for you
There's someone whose office is nearby whose cellular phone rings as the theme to Bonanza. Yes, when I get a call, I want to be reminded of the great outdoors. There's someone else who has Beethoven's 5th. And one that sounds like what I image a smurpf sneeze would be. My phone is as dull and unobtrusive as possible.

I wonder what Freud would make of people's choice of ringtones? From Japanese pop to mechanized hip hop. From Star Wars to Monty Python, people are no longer content to have phones that sound like phones. No, they must make a statement. In some ways it's almost like people want to proclaim to the world the fact that they, too, have a cell phone. "See? I'm hip. I'm important. Notice my cool ring? I'm different."

Unfortunately, everyone and their Uncle Edgar has a cell phone. And everyone and their Uncle Edgar has a ring of varying degrees of annoying. I don't really want to sit through three choruses of "Material Girl" while you fish through your Kate Spade bag in search of your electronic umbilical cord. Nor do I care to be serenaded by a nearly unrecognizable version of Chopin in an elevator.

So what's the statement? Classical says "superior and sophisticated?" Hip hop says "I'm really an urban guerilla, not a mere software geek?"

Does vibrate mean shy or merely considerate?

Got a question?
I was amused by this story from the UK. It's a text-message service that, for a small fee, will answer any question you can ask in 10 minutes or less.

Make 'em laugh
I've decided that one of the things I disklike about my new job is the complete absence of laughter. I honestly can't recall the last time I heard anyone laugh in my building. This is especially hard for me because (and I know this sounds wildly egotistical)...nobody thinks I'm funny. Or, I should say, I don't have the opportunity to be funny.

The total lack of conversation means that my sense of humor, which is of extreme importance to my identity, remains as locked away as my co-workers behind their office doors. Any attempt at lightening the mood is looked upon as if I'd just peed in the corner. And, quite frankly, I hate it.

I'm one of those people who is firmly convinced that it is possible and, in fact, desirable, to have fun at work. Sure, you can work hard -- but you can also have a good time doing it. At my last job we were like a non-stop comedy team complete with catch phrases, funny noises, and large amounts of sarcasm.

Here....nothing. It's a wasteland that truly makes every day drag by like it's in a coma. So....how do I learn to live comfortably in my little isolation bay? Or is my only option to take the advice of the most useless PR person ever and just "suck it up?"

Got Slim & Slam?

Don't know who Slim & Slam were? Shame on you!

Slim Gaillard & Slam Stewart were two very crazy musicians who did very crazy things in the 1930s and '40s. Slam focused on bass and vocals while Slim played pretty much everything else. What made them so special, and still makes them so much fun to listen to, is how swingingly odd they were.

Flat Foot Floogie, Boot-Ta-La-Za, Matzoah Balls and other such gems often rendered in hilariously un-PC "dialects" of Chinese, African, Japanese, and Yiddish. But they weren't just comic performers, these guys were serious musicians who delilvered songs that still entertain and still have the groove. Check them out, you'll thank yourself.

California gay marriage ban ruled unconstitutional!
Finally, someone with some common sense. My favorite line "it appears that no rational purpose exists for limiting marriage in this state to opposite-sex partners." Horray for San Francisco County Superior Court Judge Richard Kramer!

Anybody speak Spanish?
Lately I've become hooked on a Telemundo novela called La Mujer en el Espejo (The Woman in the Mirror). It's a deliciously cheesy soap opera about a woman who, because of a magic mirror, is gorgeous (although too much glitter eye shadow) by day and turns into this little gopher-chick at midnight. She's got a bitchy mom and a frosty-haired pseudo-husband (we think the man who married them was an imposter). But hey, everyone thinks she's either dead or a criminal by this point. Although she isn't dead -- and we're pretty sure she's not a criminal either, but is being framed by bitchy chick #4.

And then there's Paco, owner of the worst dance studio in history. Poor Paco! He's been shot!

Oh yes, and then there's Paco's employee who can't dance and who apparently owns no shirts with buttons. Oh my god it's tremendous fun. However, we don't speak Spanish and really have no clue what's going on.

In praise of modern chemistry
I've been fighting a sinus infection for a few weeks now, and it's only due to the miracle of modern pharmaceuticals that I'm a functioning human being. All hail drugs! I am so happy to live in a world where relief from my migraines is only an Imitrex away, and where various antibiotics can wage war in my body so that I can look forward to feeling better soon.

As an avid reader of history I find myself occasionally delving into worlds where even something as commonplace as aspirin didn't exist, and I find myself eternally grateful to live in the time I do. And I feel infinite pity for the poor migraine sufferer in the 12th century who probably had only bleeding or trepanning (look it up) as options to ending the pain (or her life). Perhaps back then migraines were seen as some form of demonic possession?

The power of speech
I believe that most companies, and certainly the group in which I currently work, drastically underrate the power of friendly communication. To date after nearly 2 months on my new job, I still have not had a personal conversation with anyone on my immediate team. I still go through entire days not speaking to another living soul. I am gradually developing friendly working relationships with others in the building, but not on my team. Why is hiding out in your office with the door closed and the blinds down considered to be a good, productive environment? I have always found that I work better, and harder, when I am working as part of a team -- with shared joys and pains. The day goes so much faster when there's joking, non-work conversations, and those small interruptions that brighten a long afternoon. And yet here it's either all e-mail, or it's the briefest conversation possible -- all work (often not even a "good morning") and then they're gone. No lingering to ask how the weekend was. No "nice picture, is that your husband?" Nothing.

Personally I feel this team is fragmented, confused, isolated, and morale is extremely low and I blame the lack of human interaction.

Yawn
Is it just me or were last night's Oscar proceedings even duller than usual? I blame Chris Rock, by the way. Not only was he not in the least bit funny, he was also insulting. No class whatsoever and a complete lack of appreciation for the history of the Oscars. Sure they're occasionally ponderous, but that's part of what makes them the Oscars. 70+ years deserves better than smartass remarks that pass for humor.

And please, get the presenters out of the aisles. And get the poor nominees off the stage. That's just tacky.

Jesus may love you, but he hates your SUV
Today's ramble is about the stickers which people choose to put on their cars. My first stunning observation is that liberals are still so pissed about the election that not one of them has removed their Kerry sticker. They (and I include myself in this assessment) feel the need to constantly disassociate themselves from the current administration. My Kerry sticker says "hey, I didn't vote for the Bozo," and gives me some minor sense of an impending "I told you so."

On the other end of the spectrum are the brain-dead zealots who feel the need to inform me of their superiority by virtue of having been "saved." This, apparently, gives them the freedom to cut me off, do 60 in the fast lane and generally drive like they have no fear of death (thereby proving their peity, apparently). However, their stickers do apall me. "God gave you two knees...use them." (Um...crap games? Oral sex? Scrubbing the bathtub?) "Christians aren't perfect, just forgiven." Oh goodie, free reign to go out and be imperfect. Hate thy neighbor! Protest against same-sex marriage! Bomb an abortion clinic! It's ok, you'll be forgiven.

On the other end of the parking lot spectrum is the earth mother; a term I use regardless of actual gender. "Love your mother," emblazoned on a picture of the earth. Nice sentiment, however seeing on the back of an SUV seems to be the height of "just not getting it." "Love animals, don't eat them." Listen Moonflower, animals were made meat-flavored for a reason.

I reserve a special class of my loathing for the spoiled bitch. I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. "Daddy's Little Princess," on a BMW driven by a blond 17-year old future ex-wife of some as-yet-not-out-of-grad-school future CEO. "Spoiled rotten, I deserve the best." Wow...nice ego there. Great example of the "it's all about me" generation.

I just love feeling superior to strangers. Don't you?

Free Stanley!
With the demise of the NHL season, a movement is underway to free the Stanley Cup. The Stanley Cup was originally intended to be an award for the best hockey team in Canada. I support the Free Stanley movement....lets have a Stanley Cup playoff even without the NHL. Besides, it'll give me a chance to break out my Manitoba Moose sweatshirt.

The sound of Cameroon
Once again I turn to music to get me through my day. Today I'm favoring Henri Dikongue, a singer/songwriter/guitarist from Cameroon (now based in France) who is just glorious. His warm, breezy, easygoing style is perfect for days when my brain doesn't want to work.

I don't know whether it's lack of sleep or this headache that won't go away, but I just can't seem to concentrate today. It's like an episode of "Short Attention Span Theatre." I try to do something and after 5 minutes I'm distracted away after something else. And above all is this driving, nagging urge to have a conversation. I'd give my shoes to have someone to talk to right now. Not that my shoes are worth anything, but you get the idea.

But once again it's a sea of closed doors out there. Luckily I have Henri Dikongue to at least bring beautiful sounds into this otherwise silent world.

So here I am distracted into uselessness and bored into submission. Is this any way to make a living?

Why is it...?
That commercials are always so much louder than the show you're watching? That there are people who can manage to drive for miles on the freeway with their turn signal on? That yellow rain slickers are only worn by children? That commercial radio stations get away with playing the same pablum as every other commercial radio station? That high tech offices typically have dozens of unwanted keyboards laying around, but you can bleed to death looking for a band-aid? That people are willing to embarass themselves in front of millions of people for the sake of being on TV? That milllions of people will watch idiots embarassing themselves rather than read a book? That people still feel the need to explain on their answering machines that they're "not home right now, please leave a message after the tone?" That the people who scream the loudest about "Christian values," are the least charitable, least accepting people in the world? That the word "party" gets used more as a verb than as a noun? That people actually care what kind of exercises Jennifer Aniston does? That Bush won the elction....any election? That men are always surprised when a woman actually knows something about sports? That more people have heard of Homer Simpson than have read Homer the poet? That Gwenyth Paltrow has a career? That people can get paid $5 million a year for playing a game, but cops and teachers can't afford to buy a house? That the damned mockingbird outside my window wakes me up at 6:30 every weekend, but doesn't sing a note during the week? That the asnwer to "paper or plastic" still confuses me? That I should pay extra for shoes that hurt my feet than for shoes I can walk in? That Hawaii is always too far away? That people feel the need to be reachable at every minute of every day? That people would rather send an e-mail than walk down the hallway for a face-to-face conversation? That pot stickers can cure everything? That old people in love always make me smile? That there are so few news stories that make me feel hopeful?

Just do it!
No, I don't mean go out and be a Nike ad. I mean just do your damned job.

What is it with people who are so concerned about keeping their job that they don't actually do their job? Why are people so afraid to say "that's a bad idea?" Why is making your boss happy more important than doing what's right?

Oh yes, and can I just say how sick I am of people who want to be seen as "different" and "edgy" who manifest their individuality by continually saying "yes boss, you're brilliant. I'm brilliant too!"

The savior can't act
So exactly when did Keanu Reeves become the official savior of the universe? I recently saw an ad for his new movie, Constantine, and once again he's fighting hell for the gipper. Or for somebody. And I must say, it's beginning to freak me out. Between him being just this side of Christ in the Matrices (because I am too much a lady of quality to misuse my irregular plurals), and this new flick I have to say it's not looking good for the world. Keanu Reeves the man who can change destiny? Density maybe.