Prague News

You expect cinematic crap when a movie comes out staring Jessica Alba, Jessica Beil, Sarah Jessica Parker - well, just about any actor with Jessica in their name. You don't think you are going to see a "Great" film when it stars Katherine Heigel or Eddie Murphy. If you choose to spend your money on movies with these types of stars, then you deserve what you pay for. Personally, I think you should cut out the middle man, pop a bag of Jiffy pop, pour a big glass of soda and flush your $10 straight down the toilet. But that's just me.

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Last week, I decided to give into my curiosity and give the AMC show "Mad Men" a try. Aside from era in which it takes place, I really didn't know squat about it. I like the sixties fashions, so I decided to give it a whirl. The show is good, but it leaves me feeling - itchy - annoyed - uncomfortable. (Every character on the show is awful! It's like a Joyce Carol Oates novel.) It is a very accurate portrayal of what it was like back then: Heavy drinking, chain smoking, doing both of those while pregnant, womanizing and sexual harassment. Good times.

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We've all been there. You get into a relationship and it just sort of happens: The Pet Name. And don't act all high and mighty, like you haven't participated, because I will call you "dirty little liar pants". It might be something as simple as Honey. Baby. Babe. Sugar. Love. Sweetie. Darling. - And that's fine, they are still pet names, but they are all perfectly acceptable and fine to use in public. No one is going to want to puke if they hear you calling your husband "Baby". No one will cringe when you open your mouth because they fear the word "BooBoo Bear" will come out. It might not embarrass you to say it, but it is embarrassing to have to listen to. We are embarrassed for you, and for poor "BooBooBear".

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My Ukulele and I are getting on famously. Less than a week with the little bugger and I have it singing three chords! Three! They are the C, the F and the very difficult (for me) G7. I have even managed to change chords - sometimes seamlessly. I wake up in the morning, go to work, come home and pick up the ukulele and practice. Mine is a fine Ukulele, rich in history and a pretty good instrument from what I understand. My mom bought it many moons ago when we went to Hawaii. My grandpa played the ukulele, and now I do to.

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It seems that everyone with a blog must do an end of the year-New Year-What-Happened-What-I-am-Gonna-Do-Next-Year-Wrap-Up Type thing. And, looking back 2009 was (to quote Ol'Blue Eyes) a pretty good year. Or was it. Other than the Democrats taking back the white House with an historic election, all I can remember is a lot of death and destruction. Michael Jackson - the King of Pop, and arguably the most famous person in the world - died. As well as Farrah and The Swayze. Swine Flu hysteria hit. Tsunami's and plane crashes killed thousands of people. North Korea let us know they still have nukes and they will test them when they want to. And Oprah quit! What the hell 2009? What's with the doom and destruction? If the best thing you could manage to give us was 'Twilight Mania', then I say bring on the new year.

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When I moved here in 2006, I had already been off of T.V. for about two years - a thought that makes some people I know squirm with uncomfortableness. I grew up watching more T.V. than most people should watch in their lifetime, so I feel like I have gotten my fill. I didn't go through the DT's as some kid's do when they get here: HOW WILL I WATCH MY SHOWS!? I have actually seen people move back to America just so they could watch T.V. Anyway, my point is I am a little behind when it comes to the Boob Tube. Just last winter I watched The Soprano's. I had no idea it had ended. When I was in Mexico, I started watching DVD's of The Wire and got hooked on that. Then someone told me about Dexter and the rest is

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Christmas Newsletters. I hate them. I hate that they took the place of Christmas cards, and that they are intrusively stuffed into them. I hate that the sender is assuming that I have a desire to know what little Kathy achieved in Pre-School this year, or that The Flannahan's vacationed in Hawaii! What ever happened to the simple card with the greeting "Merry Christmas"? A Christmas card should be a joy to receive and make the person getting it feel special, not like a jerk for not keeping up with the Jones. I mean, if you were really friends, wouldn't you about all of that stuff already? Of course you would, which means the news letter is really just saying - "Hello! I know our family sucks at keeping in touch, so we are going to cram it into this letter. We actually don't care if you want this information or not. We are sending it to everyone we know to insure that our Christmas card has that old fashioned "personal" feeling. The computer will print out the copies and The Mrs. will sign all of our names. We will put some pictures of our son's extravagant wedding that we didn't invite you to, and we will also show the new car we got for our darling Jane. Isn't she gorgeous! We think so! Merry Christmas!" Hell, if that's what you are sending to the North Pole, Santa might just put some coal in your stocking.

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And yet another scandal to captivate Americans. This time, America's Son Tiger Woods cheated on us...eh...I mean his wife.

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It is December, ad while most of my friends in the states are busy putting up Christmas trees and facing the mobs at the malls, I am here in Prague not doing any of that. This will mark my fifth or sixth year not having a Christmas tree, or doing any Christmas shopping at all. It still feels like Christmas since every square in town has Holiday Markets and huge trees, so don't go feeling sorry for me. In fact, you should be happy for me. Why? Because for the first time in a LONG time - I am really happy.

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The Goal: To write (and complete) a novel (50,000 words or more) in 30 days.

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I work with small people. Some might call them children, or brats or even scalawags - but I call them small people - Because, that's what they are. I also am lucky enough to call some of them my friends. Sure, I am strict and even yell sometimes, but I am also very liberal with hugs and high fives. My little friends like me. My goal is to EMPOWER not enable. When one of my small people comes to me and needs help with a tie of the shoe, or a zip of the coat they are told to try it themselves first. When one of my little munchkins tries to get out of an art project or clean up time by going to the bathroom or being lazy - they are reminded not to be lazy. Teach a kid to tie his shoes and...well...he can tie his shoes! I am proud to be one person who helps set boundaries for them. Some of them don't have any at all. NONE. They dictate to mom and dad what they want to eat and are allowed to talk back and be disrespectful. They play at the table and throw food - to which mom and dad reply, "Oh, well...they are children." My point exactly. Children thrive when there is a set regime and routine and rules to follow. it helps them feel secure in an otherwise scary world.

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Today is November 15, which makes today the official half way point for NaNoWrimo. It is also the day that I take a step back from the computer I have chosen to chain myself to and ask myself, "What the fuck am I doing?" My "story" is going nowhere, my plot is split - I think I might be writing two stories - and to top it all off the soup I made seems to have little dough balls floating in it. Julia Child I am not.

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This month marks my 3-year anniversary here in Prague. And it doesn’t seem like just yesterday that I got off an airplane in the middle of the night, scared and alone in a new and very foreign place. It’s been quite a long journey. I didn’t know a soul here, and I was running away from what I thought was home. What I didn’t know was that I was running towards home. Prague is my home now.

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Take one beautiful Princess and introduce her to a handsome, charming Prince. Let them fall in love. Then add an ugly, wicked, evil Queen who spites the Princess for her beauty or her lovely voice or just because she’s bored. Place the Princess in peril or mortal danger and let the Prince rescue her. The happy couple will live happily ever after. The end.

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Once a year I like to give a little round up of what I have read. It seems a lot of ya'll appreciate some ideas of what to read, and I am a huge dork who likes to make lists. So...Here is this years list of what I have read. Enjoy!

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Of all the pejorative terms out there, I think the most accurate and well deserved is "White Trash". It has gotten kind of a glamorous face lift in the past few years, what with TV shows like "My Name is Earl" and the rise of the "Dumb Blonde" as a visual ideal for women. Chicks are now considered "cool" if they drink PBR from the can while sporting a cowboy hat, a 14 carat gold lightening bolt necklace and tell tale roots. But these are just the mere trappings of "white trash" that the rest of America has taken under its gentrified wing and claimed as its own.

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I have always loved Star Wars. I saw the first one at the Chinese Theater in Hollywood when I was just a tiny thing, but I remember it. Watching Princess Leia and Luke swing across the vast cavern of the Death Star left one big impression. I had Star Wars figures, R2D2 Underoo's, I ate C3P0's Breakfast cereal and I had a Chewbaca necklace. I was a fan. Still am. I can still make a pretty good Light Saber noise.

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By now everyone has heard that Kanye West took his ego for a walk again recently. This time it was across little miss Taylor Swift's MTV - Video Music Awards acceptance speech. I have said it before and I'll say it again: I think Kanye West is a douche bag. I am not talking about his "music" here, I am talking about HIM - as a human being. This is not the first time the dude has let his mouth get him into trouble. He has raised a ruckus at the VMA's, the Grammy's and I believe he made some disturbing comments about former President Bush. Now, whether or not you agree with him is up to you, but the fact remains his actions are rude and disrespectful. And public.

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Long before T.V became the glossy, million channeled marketing device that it is today - I loved it. Television was simple. Cartoons didn't have a network, they had Saturday mornings. Television movies were an event (i.e. Thornbirds) and having a favorite show meant waiting all week for a new episode and actually watching it when it aired - commercials and all. As for me, I wouldn't miss an episode of Dynasty, and I loved to watch the Miss America Pageant. Each year my family would gather together with bowls of popcorn and rootbeer floats to watch 52 pretty women parade, sing, dance, twirl, and give speeches all in hopes of winning a really big shiny tiara. It was fabulous. And not just because I had a knack for picking the winner. I really just liked watching pretty girls in big fancy dresses. I still do.

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