Real Madrid Goes Shopping

Real Madrid went shopping and bid on a new player, a Portuguese midfielder named Cristiano Ronaldo for... 94,000,000 Euro. That's over 100 million dollars. Enough to save a bank's ass from bank-ruptcy. Or thereabouts.
Not knowing much about soccer, I can only assume that Mr. Ronaldo's considerable skills include being able to kick a ball real good.

In school, if I didn't do well in math or literature my folks would have been all over me like flies on a dead horse, but if I got a C- in gym, and a nasty note from the teacher for not really showing up half the time, nothing happened. After all, my folks were sending me to school to become a doctor/lawyer/quality assurance supervisor, etc., not a field hockey coach. Had I known that ball kicking, or ball hitting, or jumping into a pool and swimming real fast would have put me in the fast lane toward becoming an economy unto myself, I would have changed my priorities.
Now IT IS TOO LATE!!! Even for my own kids, who are past high school. Why oh why did I not visit the gym teacher on conference night, instead of the physics teacher? Why did I let my daughter drop out of gymnastics? What kind of a mother am I, why couldn't I get my priorities straight?!?

Doctors who transplant organs don't make nearly that much, do they? Not even software engineers. Even presidents who are considered to be a god by half the country aren't worth that much. Show me somebody who'll pay over 100 million dollars for President Obama. Right. Nobody.

Real Madrid is convinced that having Mr. Ronaldo will result in enough advertising and what-not to rake in that amount and more. They are probably right. My high school economics teacher committed suicide right after we graduated. I never understood why, but now I think I do.

Bar Rafaeli and Sports Illustrated

Doesn't my blog look nice today? This is a picture of Bar Rafaeli, a local girl who is making it big in America, specifically on the cover of Sports Illustrated. She was definitly among the first in line when looks and luck were handed out.



Her alleged boyfriend is Leonardo DiCaprio. She looks like this, and he is playing Mr. I'm Too Good To Admit I'm Bar's Boyfriend. What's up with that? I am a totally straight woman but if she was my girlfriend I'd be shouting it all over the internet. It bugs me that he is dissing her. What's so great about him anyway? In Titanic, he could have gotten on that raft with Kate Winclet instead of committing suicide, that was just stupid. Of all his movies, I liked him best in the one in which he played the cognitively challenged 12-year-old brother of the sizzling hot Johnny Depp as Gilbert Grape.

So about a year ago they came here under cover for a visit. The local press went wild, but Ms. Raf and Mr. DiC would not grant the local paparazzi, and thus the couple's adoring fans, even one measly picture. We know it was him though, as one lucky paparaz got a very distinctive picture of the back of Leo's baseball cap slightly blocked by a rolled up newspaper and a security guard's fist.

Stung and licking its collective wounds, the local press hung poor Bar out to dry. They raked her over the coals with a few choice quotations nicely detached from context and blistered across the front page of the popular weekend newpaper supplement. People from all over the world who couldn't read the article because it wasn't in English read the English online recap and sent all sorts of anti-Bar talkbacks, except a few men who were able to read between the lines, or maybe just read the pictures.

But now that Bar is the first local girl to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated, everyone loves her again.

It's like, if you live in a one-horse town, and that horse wins the Kentucky Derby, and then that horse doesn't want to have it's picture taken with the Mayor, everyone gets all bent out of shape and boycotts the horse. But you can't really boycott it for long because, after all, it is the only horse in town.

Airports, Security, and Whatever Turns You On

My yearly pilgrimage to Wisconsin is approaching and I'm consider the various ways to get there. They all involve being cramped into a very small enclosed space in an upright position with no fresh air and no solid ground under me for hours and hours. Nightmare! But I promised my mom and the shopping in America kicks butt! So I consider my experiences at the various airports on the way:

San Francisco - I had been killing time in Starbucks with a "regular" American coffee which is NOT 6 oz. like over here, and found myself running late. So I got in line and was fidgeting about a bit because after that buickload of coffee, I needed the ladies but couldn't get out of line, when security pulls me out of line. "Who, me? Are you sure?"
What's up with SF? I got thoroughly searched, twice. I got to keep the most important clothes on, but standing in your socks with your arms out and your belt and coat in a plastic basket and guy waving a wand over you while strangers watch - maybe some people get off on that but I'm just not into it.

Amsterdam - We were there quite a while ago, but they were way ahead of their time. You could live in that airport for a week. They have everything. A quiet area with comfortable couches where the kiddies and I had a little nap, showers, everything. My only problem there was the food. If you don't eat weird looking meats, it's kind of hard to find food. Luckily I have my grandma's genes and saved the saltine crackers and the little cups of jello from the first flight. That's all we had for about 12 hours.

Chicago - Generic, impersonal... They did quite a thorough security search. It was verging on paranoid. I was travelling with two babies. The security guards took us outside to the luggage trucks, in the pouring rain, and one held the baby while the other held an umbrella over the two year old and me while I opened my Wisconsin suitcase to prove there was no bomb in it. Would I bring my kids along if I was going to blow up the plane?

Atlanta - Well-oiled airport. You are moved along in a herd by airport personnel who know exactly where you are going just by looking at you. How do they know that I'm catching a connecting and the guy next to me isn't? How did my suitcase magically show up just where I'm standing? Why is that dog getting all excited, do I look like a frickin terrorist?!?

Frankfurt - Do German people not drink coffee? On the way, we were roped off into a separate section to wait for our connecting flight and I really needed coffee. There was none. Nothing but vending machines. And these machines have never heard of dollars. Just because I'm in Europe I can't use dollars? My fellow travellers swapped me enough funny little European coins to buy a coffee substitute. It had chocolate in it, which has caffein, but it was the worst tasting eskimo pie of my life.

On the return flight, after an 7.5-hour all-night flight, I had a 4-hour layover and needed coffee badly. 6:00 a.m., seemingly no airport staff, and no coffee anywhere. Trendy expensive duty free perfume and cosmetics but no coffee. I was considering drinking a perfume tester for the alcohol when I finally saw airport staff.
"I must have coffee, isn't there any somewhere?"
"Sorry Ma'am, we're remodelling."
"I don't care, I MUST HAVE COFFEE!"
"Well, there's some in the main area but you'll have to pass through security."
Great, I'll just pass through security, I have 4 hours. Bad decision.
What can I tell you, I've never been that intimate with a woman in my life! That security guard didn't use a wand, she used her hands, with only about 20 men standing around watching. Do I look like I belong in a soft porn flick? I bet she does it to all the women who pass through and that her male coworkers tip her for doing that.

Milano - This is a popular destination for people who are boycotting deodorant, and you'd be surprised at how many of those there are. Hundreds. Maybe thousands. There are no lines. You just breath through your sleeve and try not to fall and be trampled while the unwashed masses push you toward the customs clerks. But no security incidents, the good folks at Milano couldn't care less if I'm gonna blow up the plane.

Just About the Weather

I so don't miss the cold and the snow. Many a blog has mentioned the extreme cold and snow this year. People have been stuck without electricity and are sleeping in school gyms. Heathrow got a mere 8 inches but they're not used to it so they cancelled all the planes and folks are stuck sleeping in the airport. My hale and hardy mom who drove a bus till she was 78 is stuck in her tiny one bedroom apartment for active independent seniors sometimes for several days at a time. That area of Wisconsin has had schools closed on four separate days due to cold and snow. In my entire 17 years in Wisconsin we had only one day of school closed for snow. We spent it walking all over, sitting on top of telephone booths and so on. We must have done a good 5 miles that day. But I so don't miss it!


Over here we've had the mildest winter on record, or at least since I've been keeping record in my mind. It's barely gotten under 50 F. The flower bulbs I planted in November have already hatched. I haven't even gotten to wear my totally cool suede boots as it's too hot for that and I'm not some 18 year old or professional cheerleader who wears boots in summer, after all. The cat that I've been feeding since the kiddies promised me they would 10 years ago has not even put on any weight this winter.

Despite that, we're having the worse drought on record, or at least since I've been keeping record in my mind. Since we don't get any rain between April and November, we really need the bit that we do get 4 months of the year, but it seems to be boycotting us like obscure British trade unions and anarchists in Berkley. I've heard that scientists have found a way to squeeze water out of the air. It's not as big a deal as it sounds; the ancient Nabateans who lived in a turbo desert managed that by making mounds of pebbles that somehow trapped dew which was used for agriculture. Of course, the ancient Nabateans did not have water parks.

Who Should Wear the Combat Boots

There are societies in which young men engage in combat from behind civilian shields, and societies in which civilians are shielded while young men engage in combat. Recently a section of our population, mostly young men and some young women, engaged in combat, risking their lives for the elderly, women, and children.

Should 19-year-olds have to put their lives on the line for their parents' and grandparents' generation? We have had a good 20+ years to work out our differences by voting, etc. Since we have failed miserably, maybe we should be the ones putting on our combat boots and going to war, and let the 19-year-olds stay home and watch TV.

I wouldn't be too successful at fighting. For one thing, I don't go anywhere in which coffee is not available. My mom wouldn't do too well either, as she needs at least one hand on her walker so how would she fire her M-16? The other side would be having similar issues, and we would have to find a better way to resolve the problems.

But we still have to prevent the testoserone issues of the younger generation from making them want to join the party. Using the money saved by not having a war, we could pay droves of ladies of the evening to dress up as virgins and walk around in groups of 72 and convince the young whippersnappers that heaven is here on earth.

Alpha Males I

Had a meeting with three alpha males today: my boss, my other boss, and his boss. They are all really nice guys but try saying even one word. The meeting is about whether I can deliver my product on time in that new application I once mentioned being trained AS IF on. My other boss, cutting me off: "Ora, I know what you're going to say. You're going to say blah blah blada blah..."

Fifteen minutes later, the three of them are still arguing, Other Boss turns out not to be a mind reader, I have not asked my question, I'm not listening to a thing that any of them are saying cause I'm concentrating, trying to find an opportunity to ask my very important question, and I'm wondering how anyone has the energy to be an alpha male.

And what reminded me of this was the recent post about going back to work by Wits Bitch who I tried for the first time today, and to which I could totally relate. Except that since they recently layed off 25% of my coworkers, and keep talking about our dreary outlook, kissing corporate ass does not bother me right now. In fact, I am willing to kiss the entire middle and upper management's asses in an ass-kissing marathon, just let me stay. Line up outside my gray cubicle and I'll kiss till my lips fall off.

Are you gay today?

I read that a Dutch gay group is planning a pink Christmas with two Josephs and two Marys. Not sure I understand this, as records indicate that Joseph and Mary were a straight couple. Isn't it kind of like getting a straight guy to play Truman Capote, or Liberace? Or a gay guy to play John Wayne, or a straight guy to play Jack on Will and Grace?

In my kids' high school, gay was the thing to be. If you were gay, you had arrived. You were Automatically Popular, which guarantees you a life of nostalgia every time you think about high school. (A note about popular: those who weren't move on and live productive lives, while those who were may end up like a friend of mine, looking back to when she peaked, and still talking about it all the time 20 years later.) So in the effort to be popular, a couple of the boys decided to be gay. It took years before they realized that they weren't. Or till they gave up the charade in order to get girls.

In America, the gay people have been pushed into a corner and are being forced to deal with it by calling in gay. At my work, we needn't worry. We are an equal opportunity employer. Everyone is welcome and appreciated. As long as you are doing your job and bringing in money for the stockholders, and use deodorant, nobody cares about your religion, your politics, or who you do in your spare time.

Population Dispersal and Condoms

Survey: French Men Say They Need Bigger Condoms - I saw this on Fox. The survey also said that "...Frenchmen on average claim to need 15.48 centimeters (6.09 inches) long condoms, about 3 centimeters longer than Greeks, whose condom size requirement was the most modest.".

Tomorrows headlines: French Border Patrols Rendered Impotent in Stopping Geyser-like Gush of Greek Girls Flowing into France.

Giant Meteor Lights Up Canadian Sky

Scientists Searching for Meteor That Lit Up Canadian Sky
I'm jealous. First of all, because intense weather is interesting unless you're stuck talking about it to someone for an hour because you don't dare bring up politics or sex.
Second, because the article quoted a woman whose 10-year-old daughter ran into a room and said "...there was a flash of light, the house shook twice and it sounded like dinosaurs were walking."
The comparison to dinosaurs was so sweet. I wouldn't have thought of that. For one thing, we don't have any here, but I'm not surprised that the Canadians have them. They certainly have room. Second, in my little corner of paradise, if I hear a loud noise accompanied by vibration I immediately think one of two things: "bomb" or "cellphone".
While my brother in America was able to hold out until mid 2008 to get his first cellphone, to which he still hasn't given me the number, over here there are more cellphones than people. You can't take a bus ride without hearing five people discussing who will pick up junior from school today, four people's lunch plans, three having problems with their internet service provider, and two drooling to Pooky or Mushmush.
I'll be having a nice open-eyed nap in a boring meeting when someone's cellphone, which they have thoughtfully set on "vibrate", goes off, sending me halfway through the ceiling. When I set my own on vibrate, it scares the living daylights out of me every time it goes off. It used to be impolite to have your phone on in a meeting; now you can answer and the meeting will kind of hover in mid air till you finish your call.
While second-hand smoke is no longer the worry it was, as smokers have been exiled to teetering porches and fire escapes, sorry Tina, we are all frying each other's brains with our constant cellphone chatter.

Car Impounded After Dog Drives Away From Car Wash

Car Impounded After Dog Drives Away From Car Wash - this is how the headline appeared. Just "Dog Drives Away From Car Wash" is news enough, but there's even more going on here. I'm left with so many questions: Why was the dog driving? Why did the dog drive away? Was he unhappy with the service? Did he not pay before driving away?
Why was the car impounded? If a dog was driving, maybe his owner should have been impounded. Maybe the owner was drinking and felt safer letting the dog do the driving.
I had a friend who definitely drove worse than any dog could possibly drive. I don't even know why I got in the car with her but I was 18 and had to achieve Fun, and there was no bus service in my area and she had a car. Anyway, when there was an intersection with just a stop sign, she'd slowly inch into the middle of the intersection and then stop. My suggestions to stop at the sign first went unheeded, as she found it easier to see if any cars were coming from the middle of the intersection. She did not drive above 40 mph, freeway or not. We attracted a lot of cursing in which our virtue, and the virtue of both of our mothers came into question quite often. When anyone else was driving, she tried to make herself useful by telling them how to drive. I set her up once with my cousin. When I asked her how it went, she said that he's quite temperamental and she wasn't sure if she'd accept another date with him when he calls. When I asked him, he said she wouldn't stop telling him how to drive so he got pissed off and put her in the trunk.

Victoria's Lawsuit

Does Victoria Have a Dirty Little Secret? - Duh! That is like their undeclared motto, isn't it? I watched the clip (no url so I used a different link here) and discovered that a woman got a rash from her bra and decided to sue the manufacturer. I was kind of curious how this got to be news, cause if I was in America and that happened to me, I would just take it back to the store and get a refund. The stores there are really great that way. If you don't like what you buy, you take it back, and they smile and chitchat with you and give you money back and wish you a nice day. This is certainly one of the reasons that people all over the world, including the middle east, are banging on the doors to get into America, land of the free, home of the brave, friend of the consumer.
But I've been out of the loop too long to realize that this is not the proper way to behave. Ettiquette and social awareness require that I sue the manufacturer. I'm a bit embarassed to admit that I was not thinking considerately about providing employment for the folks who would be involved in handling the lawsuit.
Over here in the wild wild middle east, I would be lucky if they would let me trade the offending bra for another model. Money back? What planet are you living on, lady? And I only have 14 days in which to get even that. If I doze off and 14 days go by, I'm stuck with the nasty thing. And no more smiling and being nice. Suddenly I am the sales lady's enemy. She hates me. I have ruined her day. It's all about her.

Boyfriend of Woman Stuck to Toilet Wins Lotery

Boyfriend of Kansas Woman Stuck to Toilet Wins Lottery for Second Time This Year

Love this one. Brought to me courtesy of Fox news. How many times in a lifetime do you expect to read a headline like this? What percent of the world population wins the lottery twice? Of those lucky few, how many of them has a girlfriend who is stuck to the toilet?
What I don't understand is, if he already won the lottery once, couldn't he use the money to get his girlfriend unstuck to the toilet? Evidently his self confidence is a bit low, he may be afraid that if he gets her unstuck, she'll leave him. I sure would. But what use is she, in her present stuck-to-the-toilet condition? Can she cook for him? I doubt it. Can she clean the house? Contribute by earning a living? (Maybe she has a laptop and works from the bathroom?) And about intimacy, I just don't want to go there. I'd like to see Dr. Phil take this on. (I love Dr. Phil!)

Cat Survives After Being Shot in the Head with a Crossbow

Cat survives after being shot in the head with a crossbow at an Alabama trailer park.

I love this headline. This is not a headline you see every day. But is it really news?
I kind of wonder about the online news, which ran this headline. I like to keep abreast of what is happening back home but basically it's nothing. Nothing happens. Recently they reported a barn burning down and a Walgreens being robbed. I believe a cow was killed. Not at the Walgreens. Sorry for the cow, truly, but I live in the frickin middle east, it takes more than that to get me excited.
I get so tired of reading about wars, bombs, graft, corruption, road accidents, rape and murder. But it's not everyday that a cat is shot in the head with a crossbow at an Alabama trailer park and lives to tell the story. So the cat story is an improvement, though I truly feel for the cat. Though I bet it was being a pain in the butt, meowing outside the door at 5 a.m. when all that Robin Hood wanted to do was to sleep off last night's partying. So he's like "how do I shut this cat up" and tried throwing a shoe at it and missed and then he thought "oh, of course, I'll go get my crossbow".