In 1997 movie In & Out, actor Kevin Kline's character is inadvertently "outed" during the Academy Awards. In that scene, a list of spoof nominees/movies is read, including "Steven Seagal for Snowball in Hell." I'd been dragged to enough of his movies to loathe the sensei's work. Most galling was the ever-present female supporting star, who always seemed to be there only to carry Seagal's stuff and make out with him in the end. A snowball's chance in hell, indeed.
Back then, I was working in the new media industry and thought I might pull together a Seagal-hating web site with the Snowball in Hell title. It turned out, though, that I didn't quite loathe him enough to spend my personal time creating an anti-tribute to the man. But I can at least use the title for this blog, until I come up with something more appropriate.
Life is about choices -- like today. How pissed am I at my neighbor Janet for throwing garbage out on the curb three days before the garbage trucks come? Am I angry enough to send her a terse HOA board warning letter, thereby escalating the bad energy between us?
I think I might be. I'm going to give it one more day and see how I feel. I tried to befriend her, her and her little barky dogs and her nasty cigarettes she smokes on her deck right outside our living room window. Her and her way-too-short shorts that might have been appropriate 20 years ago. Her and her recycling bin containing an astounding inventory of liquor bottles on a very regular basis. Her and her punk kid who yells at her that she's stupid. Her and her surprisingly upstanding-looking ex-husband. Her and her constant attempts to avoid saying hello or making eye contact.
Last weekend I had a breakthrough with her when she was standing in her yard for a period of time. (Not sure what she was doing.) But now, forget it. When I saw her toss the bags on the curb, I told her garbage day was yesterday, and she told me she didn't care. She said someone else put their garbage in her can, and she wasn't keeping it. "Great," I said, "now you're making it everyone's problem." She slammed her door. I cleaned up her crap, because I try to have some pride in our stupid little neighborhood. Then I went to Steve and hysterically informed him that we need to move.
I'm a little off my rocker these days because I'm about 5 weeks pregnant. Nobody knows, so this blog will stay private for another 7 weeks or so.
I had a miscarriage in February, so it's hard to get excited this time. I'm not convinced this will last. The other night I had a moment where I sort of sensed another presence, but I mentally rejected it, thinking, "I can't pay attention to you just yet." Too risky.
So I haven't been planning ahead for it, and I carry around a little self-designed "miscarriage kit" containing a jumbo maxi pad and four Advil, just in case it happens at work. Hopefully I won't need it. We'll see.