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Tag Archives: whining

Boris and Bela Could Not Help Me

Oh, Boris, please don’t rub it in!

That shot is from the movie The Black Cat, starring Bela Lugosi and Boris Karloff. I recently saw it, on a DVR’d episode of Svengoolie. I started writing a blog post about it but was unable to complete it.

So here I am, typing (pecking on my Tablet with the stylus, really) during commercials while watching Dateline (she totally did it!). It surely is Tired Tuesday (and I’ll call you Shirley if I feel like it).

One reason I am tired is that I went to the laundromat after work. I inadvisedly decided to bring my laundry home to dry, since my drier survives. It would have been fine if it was one normal load. It was more. My drier has been at it for nearly three hours now. Lugging the wet laundry home and downstairs to the drier was not much fun either.

But just listen to me whine. What a big baby! Never mind. I’m too tired to go back and edit it to sound more cheerful. I’ll just have to look bad. We’ll see what I look like on Wuss-out Wednesday. As always, I hope you’ll stay tuned.

Cheerful Monsters?

I feel I ought not make another whiny Monday post, as some of my Monstrous Monday Posts turn out to be. Yet, I am feeling monstrous. Perhaps I could be monstrous but cheerful.

Looks like a fun bunch to me!

Who could be uncheered by William Castle, Vincent Price, and friends? I could get into watching a Castle/Price collaboration about now. However, I would probably want to go to bed before the end. I am on overtime so get up unreasonably early and get very tired by the end of the day (NOT whining! Merely explaining why I am not watching a movie) (It also explains why this post is turning out to be kind of dumb).

A tense confrontation.

The above is from The Terror, a Roger Corman romp, starring Jack Nicholson and Boris Karloff. I like a Corman/Karloff collaboration, too. Plus, it has the charm of alliteration. Regular readers know I love alliteration.

An even rompier movie.

And here is a Price/Karloff collaboration, with Peter Lorre and Jack Nicholson thrown in for good measure, The Raven. I must get that one on DVD for my collection.

Well, now I am feeling quite cheerful, thinking about these movies I love. Additionally, I am approaching 200 words. Regular readers (I think I still have some) know I call that respectable. At any rate, I made it through another Monstrous Monday. I hope to see you all again on Tired Tuesday, as I fear it will be (not whining now either, just predicting).

Me Whine? On Monstrous Monday?

I am going to make a Monstrous Monday Post. For one reason, I recently downloaded a really cool picture.

A f

And I STILL can’t add a caption! Anyways, this is Vincent Price, William Castle, and friends.

The other reason I wanted to do a Monstrous Monday Post is that I am TIRED! I do not want to go on about it, though. It would constitute whining. I hate to be called a whiner. Come to think about it, usually when somebody says I’m whining, I don’t feel I really am. Do others have that experience? I would imagine they do.

But I digress. Perhaps I could find a picture of a whiny monster, just to tie things together.

I don’t know that I would call this whining, but no doubt somebody would. At least we can agree it is a monster (I just KNOW somebody out there is disagreeing) (you know who you are).

If I can find just one more monster picture, I can get to 200 words, hit Publish, and call this a blog post. These are my rules for me. Judge me if you are so inclined.

Waaaait a minute! That’s not a monster, that’s me! I guess I can be monstrous at times. And isn’t it better to wine than whine? Discuss amongst yourselves.

And Why Wasn’t There a Thunderstorm?

I can’t make up my mind whether to have a Blogger’s Sick Day, a Blogger’s Sad Day, a Bloggers Stress Day, or a simple Non-Sequitur Thursday. I lean toward the latter. For one reason, I do not intend to talk about why I am sick, sad and stressed. Not trying to be mysterious; just don’t want to be tiresome. I do enough whining as it is.

Of course, this is a personal blog. I might be expected to talk about my personal problems. And sometimes I do. But not today.

Looks like aLooLoLooks oks k fun bunch.

OK, this is weird. I can’t seem to put a caption on this picture. It is strange, too, that it was in my Media Library and I do not remember using it in a blog post. Perhaps I should go back and check.

Nope, not in any post. It is me, two of my sisters and my mom at my sister’s house in Liverpool. A fun visit.

I really just threw in the photo to make the post more non-sequitur-ish. I think another pic would help.

What hump, indeed?

And once again I cannot add a caption. What the hell, WordPress? Oh, I suppose it is operator error as usual. No matter. I am over 200 words. The blog must go on!

Stop Whining and Way Back!

Here I am, having a true Wuss-out Wednesday. I had thought I might go for a run or walk after work, either of which might have been good to write about. But I wussed out. I almost wussed out of making a blog post at all, but here I am, pecking away at the Tablet (as opposed to the ten-fingered typing I enjoyed this morning).

Here’s a day I didn’t wuss out!

I searched my husband Steven’s Facebook page for a picture to make this a Way Back Wednesday Post instead. Additionally, I thought I might find one with green, in honor of St. Patrick’s Day. This was an article I wrote about The Miner’s Table in Herkimer for Mohawk Valley Living magazine. I finished and emailed an article to them last night (one reason I was so tired I made my Tuesday post this morning).

A handsome couple, or do I flatter us?

Here is another photo courtesy Steven, also with a little green. This is us in May 2012, after a performance of Dirty Work at the Crossroads, a play Steven directed at Ilion Little Theatre. I played a small but pivotal role.

I guess this isn’t too bad of a blog post for Wuss-Out Wednesday. I started out pretty whiny, but I feel I recovered somewhat. And I shared a couple of pictures. I’m going to call it a win. Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Will Santa Come Down That Chimney?

Who could blame me for having a Tired Tuesday Post on Tuesday of Christmas week when I am trying to learn a new job? Oh, you probably could (you know who you are).

It is increasingly difficult for me to write. I have barely written in the TV Journal.TV Journal. Writing is not the only thing that is difficult for me. Clean my house? Not likely. Shop for Christmas presents? Nope.

And just listen to me whine about it! What a pathetic display. Maybe I could lighten things up with a picture.

A jolly scene.

Here is a picture of my fireplace taken earlier this month. Regular readers may recognize it as a different angle from a picture I took for last night’s blog. You may notice the absence of fake poo.

What a difference a year makes.

This is my mantle I 2019. Steven did the decorating. I believe he has a knack for it.

Just look at all that stuff!

This is December 2017. If I was trying to cheer myself up with these blasts from Christmas past, the effort has failed. All I can feel is disappointed in myself for having such meager decorations this year. But let us not travel further down THAT road.

I occurs to me as I look at these pictures that Santa would have a hard time coming down this chimney, if he were inclined to do so. Lucky for him I was bad all year.

 

 

No Sweat: It’s Lame Post Friday!

And yet, I am gaining weight. Go figure.

I will try not to spend this entire post whining about the heat and humidity, but no promises.  Sharing the above picture reminded me of a high school friend who used to quote Shakespeare referring to her midsection: “Oh that this too, too solid flesh would melt, thaw and resolve itself to dew.”  Is there a problem with spending an entire post lamenting my weight gain worries?

The beauty part is that today is Lame Post Friday,  so I am going to call whatever I come up with OK, as long as it runs to 200 words.  Maybe another picture would pep things up.

I think they are pretty.

I have been watering my Johnny Jump-ups and my container garden almost every day.  The forecast keeps promising rain and even thunder storms, but they seem to bypass me.  I keep thinking I should take an updated picture but have not done it yet.  And no, I can’t run out and do it now, because it is dark out.

Speaking of dark, I will be glad when we start to get a little more of it.  I’m sure that is an unpopular opinion, but I usually am out of step with the rest of the world (you may have noticed).  Mostly I am looking forward to a later sunrise.  That way, when I go running in the morning, I can begin my run in the dark and end it in the light.  I love that.

Ooh, look, I am over 250 words.  I think I will just close with a picture.  Happy Friday, everyone!

A shot of my neighborhood being rained on, because I hear it starting to rain as I type this.

 

I Think I’ll Go Back To Bed

So yesterday was a Blogger’s Sick Day.  I am afraid readers of Sunday’s post may think I was hungover, what with the picture of the lady pouring booze into a blender.  Then again, we’re not supposed to worry about what other people think of us.  Some people may think less of me for worrying that other people are thinking less of me.  Then yet again, I just imagine most people have other things to think about than me. Why would I think anybody is thinking anything about me?

This is not helping my headache.

Last night I just could not bring myself to type a word.  I did not even feel up to lying on the couch and looking at a DVR’d Dateline, even though I was interested in the case.  I felt even worse in the morning, yet dragged myself through eight hours of work.  In my defense, how can I know that I won’t feel even worse tomorrow?

OK, I am not going to make my usual quota of 200 words.  Then again, who wants to listen to me whine about how sick I feel?  I wonder what people will think about this post.  Oh yeah, probably nothing.

199 words!  This paragraph brings be over 200.  Score!

 

 

Whine or Wine on Monstrous Monday?

“What do you mean, you’re too tired to make a blog post?”

I open with a shot of Vincent Price giving the side-eye.  I don’t know why I’m so tired.  It was a perfectly normal day at work, and I did not go running after.   But there is no use in asking why.  For one reason, it might lead to half-baked philosophy more suitable for Lame Post Friday (oh the pain of looking down the long, long week till Friday!) (Oh, quit rolling your eyes and playing the miniature violins; it was a joke!).

Where was I?  Ah yes, Monstrous Monday.  I wonder if it wouldn’t be more pleasant to have Merlot Monday.  I know, only if I brought enough to share.

“Did you say Merlot?”

The above would be an example of a monster of the human variety.  I know that no wine was involved in Psycho.  I would just imagine the plot would have taken a few turns had there been wine involved.

“You have wine?”

Of course I had to include Nosferatu.  In the Bela Lugosi Dracula, the Count famously says, “I never drink wine,” a line also used by Martin Landau as Bela in Ed Wood.  I must say, that is where they and I differ.

My friend Bruce would say, “Don’t whine! WINE!!!”  He has a point.  Well I have tried not to whine too much about being tired, but there are those who will accuse you of whining on the flimsiest evidence (you know who you are) (and it is so flimsy evidence!).  In any case, I see I am over 250 words.  Perhaps a glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.  It’s not alliterative, but it tastes so good.

 

These Things Happen

It wasn’t that I am a bad blogger this time (although I may be a bad blogger; let us leave that discussion for another time). Yesterday was really, truly a Blogger’s Sick Day. After having a marvelous evening and getting home a little before midnight (an unprecedentedly late bedtime for me) (at least in recent memory; never mind my misspent youth), I woke with a truly dreadful headache.

I had not overindulged in the wine at our after theatre dinner and hoped the headache would respond to treatment.  After all, it was Saturday!  I wanted adventures! I tried hydration, aspirin, my heated face thing, naps, a hot shower, and an ice pack (I did not use heat and ice at the same time. I wonder if that would work).

I thought the second nap had helped, so we went out to get some food.  Partway through our late lunch (which really tasted good), it became clear that I was not better, and nothing was going to help.  I guess it was a migraine.  Sometimes putting a label on something can help you bear the pain.

Back home, I could not even watch a movie through the nausea.  In my defense, it was a tense, disturbing movie, which can be wildly entertaining, but my stomach couldn’t take it.

So here I am, up before 6 on a Sunday, typing in a whiny excuse about why I didn’t make a Saturday post.  These things happen.  I hope later on to blog abput a better Sunday.