Bitch, It’s Saturday!



It’s been one full week since the world (the whole beautiful, fucking world, I might add) marched in support of decency. The world also marched in protest of indecency. And though there are more of us (the decent) than there are of them (the indecent), there’s still too much ugliness. My tribe will continue to combat this, though. We have to. But I digress.


After last week’s stunning democratic displays, I read something about a scene that occurred during the march in D.C. It’s short, so please click here and check it out. I’ll wait for you. After reading the piece, I’ve not been able to get it out of my head. “Bitch, it’s Saturday” pops up several times a day, sometimes appropriately, sometimes not.


And I’ve decided that if I should ever be stricken with Hodor disease (if you don’t watch “Game of Thrones”, I can’t briefly explain that one to you. Sorry.), I’d like my version to be Bitch-It’s-Saturday disease. Someone asks what day it is? Bitch, it’s Saturday. Someone cuts me off in traffic? Bitch, it’s Saturday. I’m exhausted and finally able to put head to pillow? Bitch, it’s Saturday. I’m pretty sure I could use that phrase in just about any situation. Might not be the perfect words to say, but I can imagine them fitting through laughter and tears. Mostly laughter. Just typing up this post has brought me more glee than you can imagine. To that I say, Bitch, it’s Saturday.

Heavy Telly



My telly watching has seen an emotional couple of days – Sunday night’s “Game of Thrones” and the season finale of “Call the Midwife,” which I watched last night.


I’m okay with emotional television. I’ll take that over flat-line shows any day. But I guess I’ve gotten used to being able to sense when the old heartstrings are about to be tugged. That gives a gal a chance to prepare, if only a little. But the two shows I watched the last few days, well, I didn’t see it coming.


I am a girl who wears her heart on her sleeve, I know and freely admit. Still, these fine shows (and two of my faves, opposite ends of the spectrum, though they may be) really brought it and wrenched me apart this week.


And I am heartbroken.

You Know Where I’ll Be



Tonight is the season premiere of “Game of Thrones.”


I never thought this show would appeal to me. And to be sure, I was late to the GOT party. And yet, here I am, a full-fledged junkie. I have my fave characters (hello, Arya!), as well as characters I love to hate (Ramsay, anyone?). If I don’t see an episode during its original air-time, I obsessively avoid any and all press and chatter about said episode until I’ve caught up. Fortunately for me, fellow GOT-ers get that and respect one another.


So. Tonight – you know where I’ll be: planted in front of the telly. And I can hardly wait.

Winter is Coming. In the Meantime…



“Game of Thrones” is coming in April. Can’t wait? Here’s a link to a teaser from previous seasons and it is hilarious. Don’t believe me? I’ve got 2 words for you: imp slap.


Told ya.

Lord Knows I Tried



Yesterday I tried to move all the electronics into a new cabinet. And when I say I tried, Lord knows I tried, y’all.


I worked with one component at a time, taking photos of the various cables and wires, being careful to re-connect everything just so. And when I was finished, I was so happy! I had done it!


Only I hadn’t. Somewhere along the way I erred, and then every little connection had to be tested and tested again. I was so depressed.


The whole point in my tackling this job was to save Mister from having to do it. And in the end, that guy had to find my mistake anyway. For a while, the whole situation kind of sucked.


I tried really hard to buck up, like a good Little Buckaroo. What else could I do? I mean, tonight is the Big Game! And by Big Game I do indeed mean “Game of Thrones.”  Of course the danged magic box has to be working for that!


Thank goodness for Mister. That’s all I can say.

Game of Thrones



Okay, so once again I’m late to the party. Mister and I have just started watching “Game of Thrones.” Naturally, we’ve started from the beginning. We’re only midway through the first season, so please don’t tell me anything!


I can see why folks dig it, and I’m appreciating it as well. I admit I don’t like a lot of the characters, and perhaps that is by design. I certainly don’t enjoy some of the – shall we say – family interactions. That just grosses me out. But right now I’m intrigued enough to keep watching.


On an odd tangent: Mister and I were walking around a local middle school’s Renaissance Fair over the weekend. It was, well, a middle school affair. We’d barely been there 3 minutes when a dude dressed in middle ages garb approached us to educate us about his group: The Society for Creative Anachronism, Inc. The brochure he handed us states they’re an “educational organization dedicated to the research and re-creation of medieval and Renaissance culture: arts, sciences, combat, speech, dress, and courtly manners – all areas of everyday life, from noble to peasant.” He was working the hard push, but all I could think about was how his eye glasses were an anachronism where his costume was concerned. I didn’t say that, of course, but I did struggle to actually hear him while thinking it. After a few tries, we managed to take our leave and wandered away, into the fair. That’s when Mister said he’d also thought the dude’s glasses were an anachronism. Mister then took it a step further, saying that the biggest anachronism of all was a strange middle-aged man wearing a dress – being allowed around a group of children, when he wasn’t related to any of them. Word.


Anyhoo, I’ll keep watching “Game of Thrones.” For now. Yes, I was late getting to the party. But at least I didn’t miss the bus.

Gaze of Thrones…



I haven’t seen “Game of Thrones” yet. The only thing I know about the show is it stars Peter Dinklage. He’s a good actor (“The Station Agent” rules), and cute to boot. At some point, I will probably Netflix the DVD and watch the series from the beginning. Until then, I won’t have any idea what all the talk is about.


Why all this “Game of Thrones” business? I’ll tell you why: Peter Dinklage is on the cover of the newest issue of Rolling Stone magazine. Said magazine was lying on the bathroom counter when I got out of the shower on Saturday and I swear, the eyes of Dinlage were watching me. It was more than I could take.


I had to turn the magazine over. Damn, Peter Dinklage!