Over the past few weeks, the moon has not been visible in our part of the world (lovely OC, CA). This has bothered my 2 1/2 year old niece, The Niece, greatly. She is very attuned to "my moon" and is deeply troubled when she can't see it. When she first noticed it wasn't in sight, she asked me where it was. Figuring we were in a new moon, I told her it was sleeping. She's 2 1/2, ok? While she's exceptionally intelligent (not biased AT ALL), I don't particularly think she'll fully understand that the earth is blocking the light from the sun and so we can't see the moon, blah, blah, blah. Sleeping is a much more toddler friendly explanation.

Well the weeks have gone by and still no moon. I've even considered Googling "Why can't I see the moon" but then realized I'd get search results along the lines of "it's on the other side of the world, dumbass", which would cause irreperable damage to my already fragile psyche. Can't have that. So last night, when the inevitable questions arose about the absence of the moon, thank goodness it was cloudy so I could say the moon was hiding because for the moon to be sleeping this long would indicate death in all likelihood, which would not be a good thing. Nope, not at all.

Anyway, my point is that given The Niece is so freaking obsessed with the moon, I'm figuring she must be a werewolf. Yep, she's contracted lycanthropy. It must have been that little girl in The Niece's pre-school class who's bitten The Niece at least twice in the past. It's the only time I can remember where The Niece has been bitten by something other than an insect. I mean, I've never heard of a lycanthropic mosquito, have you?

Now there's an idea....mosquitoes turning into werewolves. Hmmm....

But I digress. I am convinced this must be the answer. I am also in no way influenced by the fact that the new Underworld: Rise of the Lycans movie came out today and that I really want to see it so I have werewolves on the brain.

There is also the possibility that I'm a looney.

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LUNAR UPDATE: Last night the moon made a reappearance just above the urban horizon (aka right above all the houses) and The Niece was, well, over the moon about it. She howled in glee and was appropriately thrilled as to the moon's presence, as all who share her condition (please see the aforementioned lycanthropy) do. Well, she may not have howled so much as giggled and said "my moon back" repeatedly. Either way, it was pretty damn cute.

On the way home from work last night, I began composing a brilliant blog entry about U2 and my love affair with their music that lasted up through Rattle and Hum. My brain wove magnificent textural tapestries about how U2 and I grew apart with the arrival of Achtung Baby but how vital they and their music had been to my existence up until that time. How their songs and message inspired me to begin writing letters for Amnesty International and to try listening to Billie Holiday, something for which I will forever be grateful. Poignant memories of listening to the Joshua Tree while in the depths of depression following my father's death and how the music would lift my soul so that I could survive to cry another day drifted through my cerebrum. In particular I waxed rhapsodic about the impact of one scene in Rattle and Hum when Bono is singing In the Name of Love and he entreaties the audience to sing the words and when they do, en masse and perfectly, the look of awe and amazement on his face truly captivated what I loved so much about this band at that particular moment in time. The narrative wound its way through my grey matter with coherence and continuity, sentences supporting my thoughts and opinions with incredible clarity.

Alas, I didn't write any of that Pulitzer Prize worthy post down and it's all gone up in a puff of smoke and scattered into the ether, never to coalesce accurately again. *sigh* [Please visualize Kevin Spacey in The Usual Suspects when he says "and poof, he was gone." I cannot find a screen shot of that to save my life. Thank you.]

Edited to Add: Tim is great! He made this screen capture for me! This is what I was talking about - Kevin Spacey wonderfullness. Yay!!

This is why I have taken to carrying around a little notebook so that I can write down such wonderful thoughts as they occur. However, this is not so useful a method for capturing such musically inspired brilliance when one is driving approximately 65 miles per hour down the freeway. Yep. I put safety first and look where it got me - a really dorky blog entry.

But then, what else is new?

Last night I was doing some 2nd job typing work and while sitting at the computer, I had the television on. Luckily for me, Pretty in Pink was showing on HBO. As you may or may not know, this is my absolute favorite John Hughes movie. I've seen it more times than I can remember. It was from this movie that my love of Andrew McCarthy was born.

I've always identified with Andie (Molly Ringworm's character). She was a bright, personable outcast with a unique fashion sense. While I was smart, I wasn't particularly personable (too shy and insecure) and I did have a unique (read bizarre and strange) fashion sense. Regardless, I LOVE this movie and have ever since it came out all through the years and even as I begin the downhill slide toward middle age (have I mentioned I'm going to be 40 next year?!?).

I do have a point to this post (honest, I do!) and here it is - while watching the Ringworm last night, I noticed how incredible her make-up was in this movie. I mean, it's beautifully understated and tasteful. The most amazing thing, however, was how perfectly they did her undereye make-up. No shadows, no bags, nothing. Granted she was a teenager/young adult when she made this movie but even so, the make-up was masterful! When I was that age, I had bags and shadows that necessitated regular applications of concealer. We won't go into how much worse those bags and shadows have gotten as the years have mercilessly gone by.

What I'm trying to say is, I never noticed how perfect her undereye make-up was before. I always gloried in the Ringworm's quirky clothes, pink car, Andrew McCarthy's cuteness and Annie Potts' craziness. Now that I'm older, my perspective has changed. I want to be able to hide my undereye issues like that! I wonder if I can find a site that lists what make-up techniques they used for that movie. Hmmmm....

Yes, I ponder these important, vital issues so you don't have to. Isn't that nice of me?

Everyone has stuff they're illogically scared shitless of, I'm sure. I'm not talking about normal fears like harm befalling a loved one or death or even taxes. Of course those things are scary and well they should be. I'm talking about stuff that if you were to think clearly and logically about it, they really shouldn't scare you to the point of being a blubbering idiot. For me, it's heights. I'm scared of heights. Not abnormal, really. Many people suffer from this phobia. My particular iteration of this phobia doesn't make sense even within the illogicality of it to begin with (that really didn't make any sense but I'm going to move forward anyway).

For instance, I can't drive over a really tall bridge or freeway transition or things of that sort. Well, I can if I HAVE to but I get sweaty palms and my heart starts knocking a thousand miles a minute in my chest, etc. However, I'm fine being the passenger in said car. No worries there. I can even enjoy the view.

Tall buildings, me no likey if I'm near the windows. Inside where I can't see the tremendous number of feet high that I'm up in the air, I'm fine.

Flying I'm generally okay after take-off. I don't like take-off. And I don't like turbulence. I pray a lot when I fly and I'm not even particular which God I pray to. Jesus, Shiva, Mother Mary, Jack Nicholson - they're all equal in my eyes when I'm fearing the screaming descent of a plane plummeting to its imminent (and consequently my) demise.

Roller coasters are not fun for me either. Little coasters like Space Mountain at Disneyland or Gold Rush at Six Flags Magic Mountain are fine. I can handle those. They're nice little diversions with no real perceived possibility of careening off of the tracks and hurtling to a fiery death. I can even ride The Mummy at Universal Studios. But the time I tried Montezuma's Revenge about 15 years ago left me a crying mess with a nauseated tummy. That's the scariest roller coaster I've ever been on. As you might imagine, I've not gone on too many because of this fear.

Why do I bring this up, you ask? Well, my best friend Shannon works for a local police department. As such, she receives various perks and benefits, one of which is free admittance for her and a guest to Knotts Berry Farm over the course of a month between Thanksgiving and Christmas. In addition to the free tickets, she gets 6 seriously discounted tickets. Pretty sweet, huh? She's asked me if I'd like to go. She's also been bugging me to try some of the roller coasters there and has even accused me of being a fuddy duddy for not wanting to ride said roller coasters.

To explain a bit here, I've not ridden many roller coasters primarily because the idea of them scares me. I'm not a thrill seeker and honestly do gravitate towards being a fuddy duddy. Now herein lies my dilemma. Since I've not really tried many roller coasters, do I go and try them and if I still don't like them, at least I've tried? How can I be so scared of something I've not really given an adequate chance? My mom never forced me to try any of those scarier rides to at least see if I'd like them, primarily because she didn't like them either and was fine with me not pushing it. Shannon, however, has taken the approach with The Nephew of making him ride scarier rides at least once and if he didn't like it, fine. At least he'd given it a fair shot before coming to a definitive conclusion. Truthfully, I wish as a child I'd been told to at least try it once before deciding those stupid coasters scare me to death. (Consequently, The Nephew now loves roller coasters - mainly because he gave them a fair shot). It's much easier to suffer through a death-defying experience when you're a kid and have been told you have to than when you're a scaredy-cat adult who makes her own decisions.

Honestly, it's not logical that I'm so terrified of them because they take massive safety precautions to ensure that you're not hurt when you go on these rides. People have been going on and enjoying roller coasters for years and it's been fine. So why do I get myself so worked up in this fear of something I really shouldn't be so afraid of? It really makes no sense while I calmly think about it while miles away from the aforementioned (there's that word again) coasters. It's just when I get there and I see these roller coaster cars going so fast and upside down and etc that my stomach gets queasy and my pulse rate speeds up and feels like a drum roll. I don't know so I'm agonizing over this stupid question of do I force myself to try a couple coasters at least once and see if they're really so horrible. Bah.

November 8, 2008

Hemo Globin
My Blood
My Body, USA

Dear Ms. Globin:

I would like to take this opportunity to express my extreme displeasure with your inadequate presence in my bloodstream today. An appointment for this afternoon had been made by me with the American Red Cross for the express purpose of donating my platelets. This appointment was made with the understanding that the hemoglobin levels in my blood would be such that my donation would be acceptable. However, upon my arrival at the Red Cross donation center, I was informed that your numbers were not sufficient to allow my platelets to be removed from my person, as I had hoped.

I am unsure whether this was a deliberate act on your part. Perhaps this was a conspiracy brought about by those crafty platelets as they did not wish to be forcibly taken from my bloodstream. What did they offer you, Hemo Globin?! What diabolical extortion did they exert upon you to force you to abandon me in such a disheartening way? I should have known those platelets would turn against me. Why do you think I need to get rid of them?! How could you do this to me when you've always been plentiful and supportive to me in the past?

I shall be filing suit with the proper authorities on the next business day. This defection shall not be taken lightly!

Sincerely yours,

Lillian

P.S. Save FERROUS!

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The management would like to apologize for this breakdown on the part of the this blog's primary writing source. We shall return tomorrow for our regularly scheduled blog, after ingesting some leafy green vegetables. Thank you for your patience.