Thursday, February 15, 2007

How to Save a Life

Okay, Grey's Anatomy is officially the best show on television right now. And I watch a LOT of TV, as those of you who know me can attest. Every single week as I watch, I find myself holding my breath or biting on my hand, and then a few minutes later I'm laughing out loud. I have watched a lot of TV in my life, did I remember to say A LOT, and I have only seen a few shows in my many years that had writing this consistently excellent. I care about these people - I WANT them to be happy - I WANT them to heal their patients. Along with excellent writing and great performances - with one of the finest ensemble casts anywhere around today - this show makes excellent use of music that sets the mood and weaves seamlessly into the storylines.

And of course I'm at the end of Part 2 of a three part episode, and OF COURSE they aren't going to show if Meredith survives until Part 3. I know she must, since the show's named after her, but it's a testament to the writing that I even wonder just a little bit, because the show is just so real and so raw sometimes.

A few weeks ago the father of George, one of the interns, was dying and the family had to decide to end life support. They were gathered around his bed, and I was weeping because it was so eerily like the scene at my own father's death a few years ago. We . . . no really it was me, I had to make that decision, and our whole family was gathered around him as he died peacefully. But I didn't really cry much at the time, I was so full of adrenaline from the stress of calling the paramedics in the middle of the night, and being in the emergency room all night and all the next day and dealing with all of this (I'm an only child, and I do have other family, but it was really up to me since my mother and stepmother were already gone). So when I watched that Grey's episode, it was like I was weeping for my own father's passing. It was sad and yet a relief at the same time - a burden lifted. And those of you who don't watch much television probably think this is really pathetic and that people who get caught up in TV characters are just lacking in their own personal relationships. But that's what good TV is all about - it tells the truth in such a way that we feel a personal connection with something in our own life.

Grey's. Good stuff. Every time.


I was searching for some Sara Groves lyrics and came across this quote from her (if you've never listened to a Sara Groves CD, you must - she writes the most meaningful lyrics - she reminds me of Rich Mullins in her storytelling and depth):

Imagine how thick the air would be if every word from our mouths flew up toward the sky and hung there, like a cloud. Like the dialog in cartoon strips, only floating free above our heads, without a bubble to contain them. Now imagine the shock of seeing the words we think, but never say, gathered there as well. Our pride, our anger, our doubts, our fears all spelled out and undeniable. How could we live like that?
Wow, that's some serious thinkin' there. Just ponder that for a few minutes. Read it over a few times and let it roll around in your brain.

Happy V-Day to Me

Well, my Valentine's Day started out rather interestingly. I was sleeping soundly when my dogs began to make a ruckus (that's such a FUN word), so I grudgingly decided to get up, since I had oodles of work to do. As I opened the bedroom door (which opens into the front entryway - so charming), I heard what sounded like someone turning the lock or the doorknob. Now, at 8 in the morning I am generally the only one here besides my pet entourage, so I was a bit alarmed. Well, as alarmed as one can be when one still only has one eye open. I shuffled to the other side of the house to look out the office window (not a long trip, I assure you), and didn't see anyone on the porch. I noticed a vehicle in the driveway, next to my car, but from the angle of the window you can only see part of the vehicle parked on that side of the driveway. In my state of half-eyed sleepiness, it looked to me like a minivan. Don't ask me why, but it did. So I stood there for a few seconds wondering WHO would be visiting me at 8 in the FREAKING MORNING in a MINIVAN, and where were they anyway? Then the vehicle began backing out and I realized it was Jay in his truck. So, again, in my state of not-fully-alert, fuzzy-brained and fuzzy-eyed. . . ness, I wondered, why is he just now leaving, I thought he left a long time ago to take Andy to school. I shrugged off this mystery and shuffled into the kitchen, where, LO AND BEHOLD, a BEAUTIFUL vase of LOVELY VALENTINE FLOWERS was sitting next to my coffee pot. Does my man know me or what? That's my first stop after the potty, and really, who'd want to find flowers sitting on the potty? Not too romantic.

So of course this causes me to remember that the card I'd bought for said man THREE WEEKS AGO, along with the candy I bought for him on Tuesday, were still in the closet, because I had forgotten to set them out for his enjoyment when he got up in the morning. I called to thank him profusely for the sweet gesture, and to confess that I DID in fact have a reciprocal Valentine for him, but I had . . . ahem . . . FORGOTTEN to put it out. I signed the card, put it with the candy next to his sink in the bathroom, since that is the first place he goes when he gets home from work . . . BUT, when I returned home from church, he was unloading groceries and then made some cheese dip and several other things, and after about an hour, I finally said "Did you ever even GO in the bathroom?" To which he replied, "Well, no, I didn't need to go . . . " Guess I should have clarified why I was asking. So I sent him in there to "discover" his suprise LATE Valentine. We are nothing if not clever and romantic in our gestures, are we not?

Valentine's Day is a wild card with this man anyway - some years I get flowers, some years I get flowers and a card, some years I get an actual gift and a card, some years I JUST get a card, and then there are those years where I get zipadeedoodah because he "didn't get a chance to go to the store." Now I'm sorry, but most women would rather hear "I forgot" than "I didn't get a chance to go to the store." But in his defense, that hasn't happened in a long time. And it sure keeps me on my toes - I never know what's coming so I have NO expectations, which means on years like this one, I am so sweetly surprised by the gesture that it means a whole lot to me. He's definitely on the good list right now, since he also gave me a wonderful surprise Christmas gift and another one just a week later for our 20th anniversary. Yep, he's a suitor . . . he's bona fide.

Thursday, February 08, 2007

Peace Out, Anna Anna Anna Anna Anna Nicole

What a sad, tragic mess that woman was. She has been unglued since the death of her son, which I think was under very fishy circumstances. But in spite of all that, what a sad end for anyone. That poor baby girl - what will become of her? Even when they determine who her real daddy is, are either of them fit to raise her? The lawyer/lover seems very shady to me, and I have my suspicions of his part in Daniel Smith's death, and that perhaps that may be one reason Anna "married" him, and also the fact that she was pretty much always with him and always drugged up since it happened. And the actor/model guy, well who knows if he's any better. And now I hear Anna's mother, who from what I've seen of her in interviews is pretty much trailer trashy and dumb, is wanting custody. That poor baby girl - I just pray that God will protect her and perhaps she can end up with a normal family who can raise her out of the public eye. Tragic. Sometimes fame is toxic.

Monday, February 05, 2007

Silly Andy . . .

Recently Sam was over to visit, and he was in the gameroom playing with Andy. Andy has a life-sized cardboard standup of Batman in one corner of the room. It has been there ever since we built the gameroom, but I guess Sam just noticed it on this day.

He came into the living room with a very serious expression and announced, "I don't like Batman." I replied "You don't? Why not?" He solemnly said, "I want Batman to go away." I thought for a minute, and decided that perhaps Andy was teasing him and pretending. So I told him that was not REALLY Batman, but just a cardboard PICTURE of Batman.

He turned around, marched into the gameroom and said, in a laughing tone of voice, "Andy, that's not REALLY Batman, it's just a cardboard PICTURE of Batman!"

Silly Andy. Don't be afraid - Sam's here to protect you.

An Ode to Flannel Sheets

Ahhhh, flannel sheets. So cozy, so warm. So hard to part from on a cold winter's morn, with the dogs snuggled up around me, kindly resting patiently until I am ready to crawl out of my warm nest. Yes, flannel sheets are a beautiful thing.

Except when you get the "flannel-board effect," an annoying phenomenon that happens when one is wearing flannel pajamas and one attempts to roll over in bed. There are velcro-like properties when two pieces of flannel are put together, and they seem reluctant to release so that a smooth roll can be accomplished. The result is a fair amount of scooching, rustling, and grunting, sometimes accompanied by the inadvertent - I SWEAR it's inadvertent, dear - pulling of the covers off of your partner in the flannel sandwich of coziness.

Small price to pay for the pleasure of warm, cozy, softness that is flannel sheets in the winter . . .

Thursday, February 01, 2007

Have it your way . . .

I just saw a commercial for a new show at the Nokia Theater called AetheriA. The lineup was -drumroll please - the Fort Worth Symphony (we're okay so far), the Dallas Black Dance Theater (still good), Willie Nelson (whaaaa????), and . . . wait for it . . . JESSICA SIMPSON.

Now that's what I call an eclectic (or is that word too classy?) lineup. WHO IN THE WORLD came up with the idea to put together a show with those particular acts, all in one place? One has to wonder exactly what crowd would enjoy all of those in one place together. Guess there's something for everyone . . . something classic; something exotic; something stoned; and something . . . that sounds like you are strangling your cat . . . yeeeeaaaaah, what's not to like?