Forgetting your password/ username blues

Okay, I admit it...my memory is shot. That, and my paranoia of identity theft or stealing what little I have online has forced me to use different passowrds for my different online accounts. Yep, a diffrent password for Facebook, for AOLmail (Yes, I am the last user), Peapod, Waldbaums, my bank, the electric company, my phone carrier...the list goes on and on, I swear. But, finally, and the reason I'm all pissed off is the damn blogger passwrd/user name. I think my failure to remember them is what causes me not to write this blog as ofetn as I should.

So, there I am, all ready with something to bitch about, and I think, Hey, let me blog this. I go to sign on to my never-so-easy to use blooger account and I get the internet door slammed in my face. Now, if were easy to recover these vitally stupid passwords, I would not be in such a tizzy. But, that is not the case.

Firstly, they want to know if I want it emailed to me, or do I want to answer my security question, which half the time I get wrong. So, I opt for the email option. But, of course when they send the link, it doesn't highlight to go straight there, so I have to copy and paste thing humungous set of letters and other computer lingo crap that I won;t even begin to try to figure out. After all this, Google keeps telling me the link has timed out! What? What does that even mean? So, I decide to bite the bullet, and try for my security question. Cue up the Jeopardy music. But BAM! to my surprise, it was an easy one, and I was on my way to recovering MY OWN DAMNED BLOG!

Next, and my favorite part of this ardious (did I just make that word up? possibly) procedure is my old friend RECAPCHA. Who was the madman who invented this? Not only is it impossible to interpret the strange hieroglyphic lettering, but for the love of GOD why can't they at least form actual words??? Is that really too much to ask for? So, I make a few failed attempts at trying to decipher the RECAPCHA code, each time they give me one that has a little bigger ltters, and not so scrunched together. Thank you, recapcha people for making me feel like I need to soak my dentures and take a nap before bingo starts in an hour.

So finally, when I think I'm there. Why? Well, because, I see my home page. Yep, I'm home free, twenty minutes late than I wanted to, but who is counting. So, I go to post my rant about trying to get on my OWN DAMNED BLOG (forgetting completely the initial blog I was so excited to write, by the way) and what happens? Google tries to get me to open a blog account. I'm like, hey, this is pretty familair. Don't I have one already? Yes, you do, dear girl, relax. So, I decide to completely "x" out the whole session and start over. And I did. Which got me to where I am now, just more angered than before.

So, thank you Google, ReCAPCHA people and blogger.com for making me fight for my right to blog stuff nobody reads. I appreciate it.

Egg on my what?

Someone has made a slight mistake, his cheeks redden. Someone yells, "You've got egg on your face!"

That scenario is completely hypothetical though, because let's be honest here, has anyone, I mean on the entire planet we call Earth, ever heard someone actually utter those words? Seriously? If anyone is nodding yes right now, I want proof.

Like maybe, in the written form (though anyone who would actually write those same words out should maybe seek a reality check to the real world...or just smacked, either one) you may have seen the ridiculous statement.

"Egg on my face" Really? What the...? Who even thought of something so inane?

Well, I looked it up...I just had to. It was that or clean the house. Curiousity of the completely meaningless won out.

Okay, seems this mess of a phrase was conceived by, and I quote from a firecracker of a website called excitingly enough, World Wide Words (Insert yawn here):

"It eels like one of those expressions that have been around for ever, but the evidence suggest that it dates only from the middle of last century. It’s definitely American in origin, though now widely known wherever English is spoken.
I know of two suggestions for where it came from. The late John Ciardi suggested an origin in the lower-class and more rowdy kind of theatrical performance, in which an incompetent actor would have been pelted with eggs and forced off the stage. The other is that it was a comment on a minor social gaffe at a meal, when poor manners or sloppy eating left egg around your mouth.
As so often the origin is obscure but this newspaper story suggests that the latter is more likely, and that it began as US teenage slang:
A peek at the script turned up these gems, which Jane says are in the vocabulary of most any 15-year-old these days: “Hold your lava, Vesuvius!” (To a talkative friend). “There I was — with egg on my face!” (describing embarrassment).
The Bee (Danville, Virginia), 27 Aug. 1941."*

Hmmm...the pelted with eggs theory. I like your style John Ciardi. In history though ('cause I looked this up to, I'll do anything to avoid actual work) egg throwing was usually done in religious or political debates, or in the case of bad acting. Now making a mistake is a far cry from those examples, but who am I to judge how ridiculous idioms are formed. Especially one NO ONE USES!

On that note, I will never read THE BEE, just on principle alone.

Okay, so there is my rant of the day. Be well, and for goodness sake, wash your face after eating, just in case.


*A slight typo has occurred within my quote which unless I am willing to re-type the entire thing, the program will not let me fix it. Hence, the all-knowing footnote. The second word in that awe-inspiring quote from World Wide Words (yawn....sorry, that title just makes my crave a pillow) is "feels", but if you haven't already figured that out, I'm not even sure I care enough about you to have even inserted this damned footnote.

Harlan Coben Can Do No Wrong...

Okay, I finally took a break from writing and picked up a book. My sister-in-law had left a copy of Harlan Coben's last year's thriller, LONG LOST, knowing I was a HUGE (Yes, the caps mean I REALLY mean it) fan. I had read all his stuff thus far, and I can't count how many people I have suggested read his stuff. First off, this book was the latest installment of the Myron Bolitar series. The characters in this series cannot be touched. The dialogue is pure top-notch sarcasm, just the way I like it. The book was completed in a day. (I read pretty fast, I'll try not to strain a shoulder blade patting myself of the back.) The thing is about completing a Harlan Coben book is that you miss the characters when they are gone. It is damned fun being in their crazy world. Do yourself a HUGE (there, I go again!) favor and pick this book up. Hell, go back and start from the beginning. You will see that maybe his earlier work isn't as strong (and I find the non-Bolitar stories have better storylines), but you are drawn to reading them. And find yourself ignoring the chores you were supposed to do, because closing these books are too damned hard!

The Deep Pockets of Madonna...

So Madonna's daughter Lourdes is going to LaGuardia, the FAME school, yet suspiciously did not do the typical audition process that the thousands of other students need to take. Instead, she was given a "private" audition. Will all her performances be "private"? Why couldn't this kid go through the same admission auditions that the other kids did? Her fame? How do they expect her to function in the school then if she is too famous to even try out the proper way?

Now, some talented kid, who needed this PUBLIC school's reputation to further their arts career is told "sorry". Seriously Madonna, how much are you donating? Lourdes couldn't head to some pricey school where you could further purchase her career? Instead you feel you need to steal another kid's (who hasn't your financial wealth- be real, Lourdes can act in a film now if you really wanted her to, Madge) dream. Shame on you, and shame on the NYC Board of Ed for getting bought out.

Yay!!!! WHAT"S YOUR POISON?

My flash story, "What's Your Poison?", that was adapted into a screenplay by Chris Keaton has been picked up by Blood and Guts Productions!!! They are casting it NOW!!!!


Check em out!
http://www.chris-keaton.com/


http://www.bloodgutsproductions.com/index.html

My 2 Minute Drill with Steve Lowe

http://www.facebook.com/n/?profile.php&v=feed&id=1030464941&story_fbid=111486685533594&mid=212f9bbG284f776bG45466e0G52&n_m=bogeysloop%40aol.com

Okay, I am attempting to write a screenplay.

Why, you may ask. And that would be a damned good question. Well, frankly, my manuscript is a movie. I envisioned it as a movie, it plays out in my head as a movie. And a damned good movie at that, not one of these run-of-the-mill teen crap fests that haunt the theaters nowadays. That's right TWILIGHT, I'm talking to you. The movie was just downright awful, and the charaters have ZERO chemistry. But, the book had the fanbase to push that carwreck into a hit...Robert Pattinson's pretty face didn't hurt either.

OKAY, so this is what I'm saying...AMAZ AND GRACE would put that movie to shame. The story is just....BETTER. Yes, I said it. First, I just have to figure out how to write a screenplay. That would help my endeavor.

Why not let someone else do it?

Quite simply, because I want all the fame and glory. Is that too much to ask for?

So, what do I do? I sign up for SCRIPT FRENZY and see how far I can get in a month. That's right, people, thirty days to get this puppy in script format. Let's see how this goes. I'll keep you posted. It ain't gonna be pretty.