timelord1: (Default)
Mr. Timelord has one thing he does that drives me slightly insane, and since this just happened to me this morning again, and as this is apparently rant day and since you asked, LJ, I'm going to go ahead and rant away. I'm not much of a talker - I prefer writing things down, texting, chatting...I can get very verbose when it comes to that, but I just don't like to converse, if that makes sense. Also, in the job where I work, mornings are spent in dark silence so my client can sleep. I consider the silent mornings to be almost sacrosanct - since the man has to have someone sitting in his bedroom while he's sleeping for medical reasons, the very least I can be is quiet and respectful. 

Well, today Mr. Timelord had to call me for an important reason. I whispered our conversation, and when it was done, I very politely said "Okay, love, I have to go now." He then proceeds to go into a lengthy recap of our phone conversation because, apparently he thinks I wasn't there for it? I don't know, but when I say "I have to go," that doesn't mean "I have to go in five minutes or so, when you're done telling me all about everything we just talked about." Oy... :)

The good news is, since this is what I have to complain about right now, I really don't have anything to complain about. :) 


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timelord1: (Default)
Professional writer. Workin' on it....may never get there, but oh well - I'm trying!!!!!! :) [Error: unknown template qotd]
timelord1: (Default)
I have to see "White Christmas" with Bing & Danny. I'm a classic movie nut (hence Unforgettable), and that is one of the best Christmas movies ever. Despite the song "Snow," which has always made me cringe...don't know why...

Anyway, my favorite character in that movie is General Waverly. He's so well portrayed by Dean Jagger as this kind old soldier who's a little bit lost without his command...he just breaks my heart. I actually prefer his performance over Bing & Danny. Rosemary Clooney is also wonderful, and I would murder to have Vera Ellen's dress at the end of the movie (with fake fur, of course). :) 
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timelord1: (peanuts)
We celebrate Christmas...well, Christmas gets celebrated around me mostly. MOSTLY. (read on)

I'll admit it. I'm a grinch. I start snarking about Christmas in August, as soon as the decorations get put out for sale. But, with reason. I'm one of those people for whom the holidays are hard and nasty reminders of people that are gone, and for whatever reason I just can't get over that. Mostly Christmas makes me sad and sort of owly.

EXCEPT...for Midnight Mass at the Episcopal Church in Belvidere, which is a nearby town. My family has gone to that church probably since it was built. My grammy played the piano there and my grandfather sang in the choir. My parents were married there (and buried through there), and Mr. Timelord and I were married there, too. When I stand among the people at Midnight Mass and sing (I'm a former cantor there, and when I actually go to services, they usually have me sing something solo), I feel so close to the people I've lost that, for a couple of minutes, I sort of enjoy the holiday. :) Plus, the music is outstanding. We sing all sorts of carols, and when we sing "The First Noel," I kick into Opera Voice Mode and sing this descant that rings out over the rest of the congregation and always earns me a few grinning, backward glances. Best. Thing. Ever.

After Midnight Mass, Mr. Timelord and I go home and exchange our presents to each other. He proposed in 2004 during one of these exchanges, so that is always a good memory and a nice time. Then we go to one aunt's house for Christmas, and pop into another aunt's house to say Happy Hanukkah, because we have a little of everything in our family. 

I guess mostly I'm cynical about the commercial aspect. Maybe I'm wrong when I say I'm a grinch. Maybe I'm more of a Charlie Brown at Christmas. :) [Error: unknown template qotd]
timelord1: (oh hi puppy)
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Definitely the entertainer. I was the class clown, have been in plays, operas, was a founding member of a local improv troupe that played all over the place, etc. However, when it comes to one-on-one, I'm painfully shy around new people. Like, the ducking head not talking at all type of shy. Unless it's a group of people with a few that I know. Then I turn it "on" and act the goofball, which works to keep people at arms' length, but also fulfills social obligations to interact with people. Online, I'm all good because you can't see me. :) Onstage, I'm all good because you can't talk to me. I belong in a padded room. :b
timelord1: (Default)
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Probably that leopard-print fuzzy vest. That belongs to Mr. Timelord. :)
timelord1: (Default)
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Cancer. So I could have my mom back.
timelord1: (Default)
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timelord1: (Default)
I'm going to share a simple recipe for today's prompt. It can be slightly labor-intensive, but the result is out of this world. It's for
my all-time favorite treat, one that I get requests to make all the time. They have many names among my friends ("Crack," "Noms," "Those
Awesome Truffles"), but I do'nt have a name for them. If you try them and think of one, let me know. :)

1 8 oz brick of cream cheese
1 package of regular Oreos, crushed in a blender or food processor to a powder
squares of white chocolate & (milk chocolate if you're ambitious)

Mix the brick of cream cheese in with the pulverised Oreos until well blended. Chill in fridge (if you can fit in there ha ha ha). When
chilled, take them out and roll them into 1-inch balls. Dip these in melted white chocolate and set on waxed paper. You can melt milk
chocolate and drizzle over the top of the white chocolate if you're feeling fancy. Let them set up, and enjoy with a glass of milk. You
won't be sorry.
timelord1: (boss)
[Error: unknown template qotd]lol Ohyes, I was bullied. Behold, the stereotypical nerd: the scrawny 7th grade girl with pigtails, a mouthful of braces, pink bell-bottom pants, sweater-vest and wing-collared shirt. Bad enough in the 1970s, but try 1989.I missed the memo when we went from grade school to middle school and you were supposed to stop being a kid and act like a miniature adult. I brought My Little Ponies on the bus the first day of middle school. It didn't help that I was a year ahead of where I was supposed to be, and still FELT like a kid. My locker didn't have pictures of hot actors in it (lol it does NOW *ahemdavidtennantahem*), it had my drawings and stories taped up inside. I carried ALL my books from class to class because I couldn't figure out how to get to my locker and still manage to be the first one to arrive in my classrooms to say hello to the teacher like a COMPLETE TOOL!


So, what happened to me that  year, when everyone else was cool and I was the biggest nerd the rich side of town's middle school had EVER SEEN? Oh lord. I got slapped, punched, slammed into walls, spit on, somebody came up behind me and wrenched my neck so badly I had to go home for the day because I couldn't turn my head. People would walk by me and spit in my lunch and, worst of all, even some of the teachers singled me out and made fun of me.

Now, at first I cried. Oh woe is me, I would come home from school and hide in my room and sob. That lasted all of a month, and finally my parents said enough is enough. They sat me down and told me something that parents would probably go to jail for telling their kids nowadays: "We don't care if you get suspended from school. If the teachers won't help you, you help yourself and you fight back as hard as you can." They didn't help me to fit in, they didn't tell me to change who I was. They gave me permission to be me, and to tell anyone who didn't like it to piss off.

And so I did.

It didn't hurt that my father called the principal and told him that I was either going to be allowed to fight back against bullies, or he was going to follow me from class to class with a baseball bat to make sure I didn't come home with gobs of spit on my shirt and another bloody nose. (again, probably would have been jailed for that phone call these days). I remember the first glorious moment I fought back. This snotty girl was throwing french fries at me from across the lunch table. Now, previously I just sat their and took it, sniffling and quietly asking her to stop. I let her throw three of them, and warned her every time that she'd better not do it again. When the fourth french fry (this one dredged through some jell-o for added fun) bounced off my shirt, I leapt across the lunch table and knocked her to the ground and belted her a good one. And went straight to the principal's office. Sure, I was in trouble, but it was worth it.

The next time? A girl wouldn't stop kicking my desk in Social Studies. I mentioned it to the teacher and she said it wasn't her problem. So, I made it my problem. The girl's stuff went flying across the room and I screamed in her face to knock it the *expletive* off. Off I went to the principal's office. He sent me right back to class with a warning. And on it went, fighting back every chance I got, until I went from being known as the nerd, to being known as "Crazy Jan" - Stay away from her, they'd say. There's something wrong with her. Damn right there was something wrong with me - I wasn't going to take being bullied lying down, and they didn't know how to deal with that. By the time I reached high school, the popular kids and I had arrived at detente, and anyway I found theatre and music and left all those bozos behind.

Looking back, it's not the most politically-correct solution to the problem. Today I'd probably be labeled a risk for school violence and have to go into some sort of counseling program or whatnot, but back in those days the teachers did not care for the most part. At least the ones at Dwight Eisenhower Middle School in Rockford, Illinois didn't give a damn. Would I tell kids of today to do that sort of thing? No way. Because there are protocols in place now that will help kids that are being bullied. Now it's actually seen as a problem that needs addressing, and I would tell kids today to go through the appropriate channels to get the help they needed. Of course, failing that, I might just pick up the phone and call a principal and make mention of my prowess with a baseball bat....
timelord1: (Default)
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I like to sit in my backyard on a cool late summer/early fall night, with the moon and the stars out, and just listen to the earth (under the noise of the traffic and the neighborhood) - it's faint, but it's there and it's lovely. I do bring my dogs with me, so I don't know if that technically counts for alone.

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