Have No Fear

(The KarmaCat gives props to a dog.)

This is a first.  I’m plugging a movie I haven’t seen.

“Underdog” was filmed last year in downtown Providence, the same downtown Providence I stroll through five days a week as I continue to sell my soul to The Devil work in Corporate America.  For months, my stroll from parking lot to office was altered by closed side streets, set equipment, police tape, and cones.  The cones which, by the way, I walked on the WRONG side of (because I didn’t see them), and some set guy barked (npi!) at me.  They weren’t even filming at the time, just setting up.  Jeez.

One day, from my office, I saw many, many takes of a kerchiefed old woman “falling” (that is, a stuntman dressed as a kerchiefed old woman rappelling down wires) from a building across the river.

On a couple of occasions, in the park where Sandy and I have lunch on lovely weather days, we would see a beagle, which we eventually realized was for the movie.  I’m not sure if I ever saw the lead beagle or just the doubles.  The Underdog beagles are “lemon” beagles (tan and white, as opposed to the more common tri-color variety).  I remember reading that several beags were used, and the doubles had to go into makeup so that their markings matched that of the lead beagle.  Heh.  I also saw some filming of the phone booth (wow – remember those?) where (I believe) our mild-mannered beagle changes into his cape.  The phone booth was positioned on the brick walkway along the river, adjacent to one of the footbridges, just a stone’s throw from my office.

If the local filming alone isn’t enough for me to promote a movie unseen, then there’s this:  I happen to LOVE beagles.  My grandfather always had a beagle or beagle mix.  They’re great dogs.  Nice ears.  Awesome bark.  Bah-rooooo!!!

So, if you want to catch a glimpse of a part of my world, go see.

Or at least watch the trailer under Videos.

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Crush, Kill, Destroy

Must kill BFB Bob today.

As LOATHESOME as it is to be micromanaged (especially when I already know what I’m doing), it is a hundred times WORSE when the micromanager doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.

Damned, egotistical lawyers think they know EVERYTHING.

I seriously need to consider keeping a bottle of something in my desk to spike my coffee on days like this, just to calm myself and keep me from totally going off and exploding.

Alternatively, I could keep a bottle of something else in my desk to put in Bob’s coffee.  Like rat poison, or antifreeze.

Is it Friday yet?  How about Miller Time?

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Rory Takes on Religion

On our beautiful Saturday morning, no rain, no heat, no humidity, windows open, I heard Rory, sitting in the window by the front door, HISS.  I assumed it must have been directed to some visiting neighborhood cat who dared to stroll onto the porch, and then I heard a knock at the door.

Saturday morning, 11:00 a.m.  It could be only one thing:  Jehovah’s.

I walked quietly to the door and peered through the peephole.  Two nicely dressed women, one with a baby stroller.  School’s out and it’s not peak political season, so yes, Jehovah’s Witnesses.

As is my custom in these circumstances, I did not answer the door.  I don’t feel bad about it, either.  I didn’t know these people, nor did I invite them.

They slipped one of their pamphlets between the doors and left.

Rory was still sitting in the window, watching, and I laughed.

“You hissed at the Jehovah’s.”

Rory, who doesn’t hiss at P.J. and Sam, though they do not hesitate to express their displeasure at his over-playfulness.  Rory, who has never hissed at anyone in my house.  To the contrary, he is an absolute attention-whore.  In fact, I’ve only heard him hiss at visiting cats on the porch.

And now, Jehovah’s.

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The Chinese Take-Out

Fisher-Price is recalling over 1 million toys manufactured in China due to high levels of lead in the paint used on them.

What the fuck, China?!

Toxic ingredients in our food, our pet food, and now this?  And then I figured it out.

They’re out to kill us.

Kill our beloved pets, kill our precious children, kill us.  Kill us all.

It makes sense, doesn’t it?  With all that overcrowding, that huge population, they could use the room to spread out a bit.

Or maybe it’s payback, an evil thank you, for bringing them McDonald’s.

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The Tool Trilogy, Part I: Toes, Reconsidered

Nearly three weeks late, but who’s counting?

Ah, so much to post, I’ve decided to break it into three entries.  The actual concert will be Part III.  (Until then, my review, in a nutshell:  HOLY FUCKING SHIT!)

Let’s see … when we last left off, our headstrong heroine was threatening to take down anyone who might cause harm to her toes, which would be left relatively unprotected by the heroine’s insistence on wearing flip flops to her 19th row seat at the Tool concert.

Two nights before the concert, I finally started to come to my senses.  Besides the possibility of crushed tootsies, another possibility crossed my mind:  What if a flip flop (or two) came off, and I couldn’t find it (them)?  Not a good place to be barefoot.  Walking back to the car through the huge, poorly lit parking lots post-concert, where there’s bound to be more than a few broken beer bottles?  Shudder.

But I didn’t want to wear my leather Keds (too dorky) or my clunky Reeboks (ugly when paired with black cropped pants).  What are the cool kids wearing these days?  How about some kind of a slip-on sneaker/sport shoe?  I checked Bob’s Stores online.  The slip-on athletic things were fugly, but functional.  Then I saw it – canvas skimmers.  Cute.  Hip.  Protective.  Now, those I could do.

Next, I checked out the Payless site.  I needed a bargain.  Yes!  They had canvas skimmers!  Oooh, look at these: 

I would totally wear these out and about, and that rubber toecap was just what my toes needed.

Of course, it being midsummer already and my having a common shoe size (7½), I feared there wouldn’t be any left in the store.  There were other styles, though, and even if I had to go to more than one store…

And I was out the door to Ye Olde Neighbourhood Payless, which was closing in a half hour or so.

Oh my god, THEY HAD THEM!  IN MY SIZE!!!  On sale, no less.  Just $14.99.  Somebody loves me.  I continued to browse and saw these: 

Heh.  Black and white, skulls and crossbones.  No pink, no flowers.  More badass.  Note also the badass upgrade from satin ribbon bow to metal buckle.

Hmmmm.  More appropriate for the concert, perhaps, but seriously, would I wear them elsewhere?  Would I even wear them to the concert?  Me?

Decisions, decisions.

So I did what any sensible woman would do.  I brought both boxes to the register.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?”

Normally, I wouldn’t engage in much chitchat, but I was so giddy, both about the shoes and the upcoming concert, that I replied, “Yes.  I’m going to a concert on Thursday, and it occurred to me that flip flops might not be a smart choice.”

“Oh, no.  I made that mistake once before and lost one.  What concert are you going to?”

“Tool.”

Her jaw dropped.  “Ohhhhhhhh!  I want to see them so bad, but my boyfriend is working that night.”

I told her I was concerned about crowds and moshing and pushing and shoving because we had close seats.  She then told me about going to see System of a Down and being near the stage and feeling unnerved when she saw the guy next to her pop in a mouth guard before getting into the mosh pit.

I explained to her that one of the pairs of skimmers would be coming back on Friday.  I told her I just couldn’t decide between the more concert-appropriate skulls or the more wearable flowers and that I was leaning towards the flowers because I didn’t think I could pull off the skulls.

“Oh, if you’re cool enough to go to Tool, you’re cool enough to wear skulls and crossbones.”

Which at first seemed like a compliment, but then I realized she probably just thought I was old.

Still, she was sweet and personable, and if I still had that extra ticket, I would have given it to her. 

I tried on both pairs a couple of times that night and decided I likely would go with the pink, black, and tan flowers.  By the time I left for work the following morning, however, I was all about the skulls.

At work, I emailed Tina the link to the Shoes of Death.

Tina:  Those are really cute.

Me:  Yeah, I’m a badass, but in a really cute kind of way.

Tina:  Ha.  Exactly.

So that was it.  I could and would wear them, and not just to the concert, dammit.

And keep the flowered ones, too.  Of course.

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