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Friday, September 08, 2006
Um. The fact that Moulin Rouge is on this list and that West Side Story ranks above The Wizard of Oz and Cabaret is proof positive to me that the American Film Institute is peopled by drooling baboons.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:32 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:32 PM | shower me with attention
Why is everyone talking about snickerdoodles lately?
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:16 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 10:16 PM | shower me with attention
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
Now see here.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:11 PM | shower me with attention
Why are you in Tavie's head? 8:11 PM | shower me with attention
Jiggety jog.
My mom is very upset about Steve Irwin. She was a big fan. She had an action figure and everything. She felt personally betrayed by the stingrays, who were so sweet to us on Sunday. Poor Irwins.
Because I'm morbid, I leafed through a copy of The Poseidon Adventure in Bahamian Books, the bookstore my mom insisted on going into while we were in Nassau on Sunday. (She and my dad are morphing into one another.) That night as we dressed for dinner in our stateroom, we switched on the tv and what was playing on TCM (Satellite)? The Poseison Adventure -- original version, with Shelley Winters and Gene Hackman. Sick! Sick to show that on a cruise! Sick! It was near the end but I watched it through. I do like that movie.
We bought bottles of flavoured rum as gifts and shoved them into my suitcase. Stupid, stupid. One of the bottles of coconut rum shattered inside and drenched everything -- my work clothes, my crosswords, a book I'm borrowing, and most tragically, my knitting. My knitting that I've been working on for months, that I've tinked and reknit three times because I can't seem to get it right. Finally, when I start to get it right, it becomes soaked with coconut rum. I am now very angry at coconut rum and no longer care for Tavie on the Beach. (Plus, she looks scary in a bathing suit.)
Happy birthday to Ade, who is missing in action (but whose shirt, which was given to me and taken by my mom, I wore today because the work clothes I'd packed smell like coconut rum) and happy birthday to Rynnie my love, who is not missing, but safe and sound in Maine. I love you.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:35 PM | shower me with attention
My mom is very upset about Steve Irwin. She was a big fan. She had an action figure and everything. She felt personally betrayed by the stingrays, who were so sweet to us on Sunday. Poor Irwins.
Because I'm morbid, I leafed through a copy of The Poseidon Adventure in Bahamian Books, the bookstore my mom insisted on going into while we were in Nassau on Sunday. (She and my dad are morphing into one another.) That night as we dressed for dinner in our stateroom, we switched on the tv and what was playing on TCM (Satellite)? The Poseison Adventure -- original version, with Shelley Winters and Gene Hackman. Sick! Sick to show that on a cruise! Sick! It was near the end but I watched it through. I do like that movie.
We bought bottles of flavoured rum as gifts and shoved them into my suitcase. Stupid, stupid. One of the bottles of coconut rum shattered inside and drenched everything -- my work clothes, my crosswords, a book I'm borrowing, and most tragically, my knitting. My knitting that I've been working on for months, that I've tinked and reknit three times because I can't seem to get it right. Finally, when I start to get it right, it becomes soaked with coconut rum. I am now very angry at coconut rum and no longer care for Tavie on the Beach. (Plus, she looks scary in a bathing suit.)
Happy birthday to Ade, who is missing in action (but whose shirt, which was given to me and taken by my mom, I wore today because the work clothes I'd packed smell like coconut rum) and happy birthday to Rynnie my love, who is not missing, but safe and sound in Maine. I love you.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:35 PM | shower me with attention
Sunday, September 03, 2006
Good things we have watched from the tv in our stateroom:
To Kill a Mockingbird
Bewitched (show, not movie)
Welcome Back, Kotter
Pee Wee's Big Adventure
The end of The Shop Around the Corner (Judy Gardland version)
Awful things we have watched from the tv in our stateroom:
Failure to Launch
CNN
My mom just paid $1.50 for me to make note of that on my blog. Ha ha, Mom, that's what you get for reading my blog.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:00 PM | shower me with attention
To Kill a Mockingbird
Bewitched (show, not movie)
Welcome Back, Kotter
Pee Wee's Big Adventure
The end of The Shop Around the Corner (Judy Gardland version)
Awful things we have watched from the tv in our stateroom:
Failure to Launch
CNN
My mom just paid $1.50 for me to make note of that on my blog. Ha ha, Mom, that's what you get for reading my blog.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 7:00 PM | shower me with attention
Expensive and slow, yes, but since I've given enough quarters to the slot machines, I don't sing karaoke, play bingo, bid on art, swim in the rain, let strangers massage me, get manicures, want to watch stupid Robin Williams movies, smoke cigars or climb rock walls, since I've purchased my rum, since my mother doesn't want to let me sit and read my book in peace on the deck, since the arcade is reserved for those 17 and under (whyyyy?) and since dinner's not for two hours, this is my chosen entertainment.
Today! I cuddled! Sting rays! Cuddled, yes, cuddled. They were divested of their barbs (I don't want to know, it was probably a hideous surgery performed on them for the sole purpose of letting stupid fat tourists like myself pet them) and were cute and friendly as puppys, clambering into our laps in the shallow water and sucking greedily at our outstretched fingers for dead fish. Which we gave them. And rubbed their buttery wings and velvety bellies. Sweet, sweet stingrays. I stalked them from the surface in my snorkel gear like the good year blimp circling an arena, following the smaller males instead of the big, pregnant females, because I promised I would flirt with someone on this trip. Stingrays are darling. I bet you didn't know.
It was much nicer weather in Nassau than on Coco Cay yesterday, where it began raining the second we stepped off the tender and ceased raining the second we stepped back on the ship. Not that we cared. My mom discovered a drink we have called Tavie on the Beach, which is coconut rum, soda water and a squeeze of lime. It's lightly sweet without being cloying, and low carb, and very refreshing if you're on a tropical island and crave coconut flavour but don't want to stray from your diet. Tavie on the Beach: have one today. I floated on my back in the ocean which was warm like a bathtub compared to the chilly rain. We lay on hammocks in the rain. We ate barbecue in the rain. We chased roosters in the rain. We don't care about no stinking rain.
Our tour of the Everglades tomorrow has been cancelled for lack of interest (YAY!!!) so we're going to go to Parrot Island (some place... with... parrots?) to kill the time until our evening flight.
One last thing: the music on this cruise is extremely, extremely gay. In the Diane-Warren-makes-me-ill sense, rather than the showtunes-are-awesome sense. Really, really tired of that Whitney Houston song from The Bodyguard, not that one but the other one.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:43 PM | shower me with attention
Today! I cuddled! Sting rays! Cuddled, yes, cuddled. They were divested of their barbs (I don't want to know, it was probably a hideous surgery performed on them for the sole purpose of letting stupid fat tourists like myself pet them) and were cute and friendly as puppys, clambering into our laps in the shallow water and sucking greedily at our outstretched fingers for dead fish. Which we gave them. And rubbed their buttery wings and velvety bellies. Sweet, sweet stingrays. I stalked them from the surface in my snorkel gear like the good year blimp circling an arena, following the smaller males instead of the big, pregnant females, because I promised I would flirt with someone on this trip. Stingrays are darling. I bet you didn't know.
It was much nicer weather in Nassau than on Coco Cay yesterday, where it began raining the second we stepped off the tender and ceased raining the second we stepped back on the ship. Not that we cared. My mom discovered a drink we have called Tavie on the Beach, which is coconut rum, soda water and a squeeze of lime. It's lightly sweet without being cloying, and low carb, and very refreshing if you're on a tropical island and crave coconut flavour but don't want to stray from your diet. Tavie on the Beach: have one today. I floated on my back in the ocean which was warm like a bathtub compared to the chilly rain. We lay on hammocks in the rain. We ate barbecue in the rain. We chased roosters in the rain. We don't care about no stinking rain.
Our tour of the Everglades tomorrow has been cancelled for lack of interest (YAY!!!) so we're going to go to Parrot Island (some place... with... parrots?) to kill the time until our evening flight.
One last thing: the music on this cruise is extremely, extremely gay. In the Diane-Warren-makes-me-ill sense, rather than the showtunes-are-awesome sense. Really, really tired of that Whitney Houston song from The Bodyguard, not that one but the other one.
Why are you in Tavie's head? 6:43 PM | shower me with attention
