Thursday, January 26, 2006

January

Okay. Okay. End-Of-Month Roundup:

-New Year's Eve was excellent, as long as you don't judge it by the sparkling wine (as any wine snob worth her sulfites knows, Champagne is only Champagne if it comes from the Champagne region of France. Also, I simply enjoy typing Champagne; hence the name of the blog. ChampagneChampagneChampagneChampagne.) Josh the Pilot and I were on the hunt for red sparkling wine from Italy that is awesome, but as the only liquor store within driving distance was located between a Dollar Tree and the Nail Hut, we wound up with some... rose... thing that involved a screw off cap. The only other selection available? Cold Duck. You would have a finer wine experience sucking on grape Jelly Bellys crushed between schoolyard blacktop and the wheels of a Volvo.

-Speaking of, for you siblings out there looking to bond, may I recommend sharing an enormous tray of jelly beans between you. Julie the NephewMama and I recently balanced a 42-flavor box between us, and we shoved individual beans in our mouths until we discovered the recipies card, in which we were encouraged to create "blueberry muffin" and "root beer float." Reviews ranged between"I could subsist on just this for the rest of my life" and "EWWWWWWWW! EWWWWWWWW! EWWWWWWWWWW! Here, try the jalapeno."

-Worst Things Ever Overheard on an Oprah Show, Both Heard Within a Two-Minute Window:

1) "More women should consider a Brazilian bikini wax."

2) "Do what makes you love life, ladies!"

These two things, I am telling you RIGHT NOW, are mutually exclusive.

-I've firmly added kickboxing classes to my workout regimen, which are less specious than my Pilates in the sense that there is no pretense that this whole affair isn't going to just absolutely suck yaks. There's no soft lighting. There are no mats. It's just gym floor and Madonna and pain, and since the university where I teach has no real workout center, we have to share space with the volleyball team, the cheerleaders, the kids' camps, the basketball clinics, and the dance club, with which we recently had a rumble.

The dancers were rehearsing their routines with a large boombox (I am informed that "ghettoblaster" is no longer acceptable terminology, and yet somehow America is okay with Jeff Probst saying things like "Cincinnati, REPRESENTED!") and we were attempting to hold kickboxing class, also with a loud boombox, and they turned their volume up, and we turned our volume up, and they decided to run laps directly through our kicking lines, and then they sent an envoy over with a glitter tank top and peaceful tidings, and asked Rochelle The Instructor to turn our music down, and she looked at them like they had just asked her to lick Velveeta directly off the gym floor. Then we stood in little groups and mocked their faux-hip hop, and then we got back to a grim series of leg lifts and arm slashes that did not in the slightest resemble kicking, or, for that matter, boxing. This is the best exercise class ever.

-Several of you have asked me what I think about the two Deuce miniseries that were on TV around Christmastime. I haven't responded because I wanted to appear thoughtful and reflective, not because the emails got buried under some bill reminders and spam about my great need for Viagra. Which... never mind.

Let me say this about that. These movies together had six hours in which to tell the story of John Paul II's life, and of all the great and defining moments from over 85 years, CBS decided to reenact... this. Because when you think God, dignity, and the Holy See, you think: "Let's bust out the mimes! But only if they're the juggling kind!"

like I said, excommunicate all clowns at: mb@blondechampagne.com

11 comments:

amy lou the reader said...

MB:

Awesome post. "Suck yaks" made me laugh out loud, and since it's 6:55 in the morning, I don't think my downstairs neighbors appreciated that...

I watched both miniseries. The CBS version was much better, as in they didn't try to cram a 26-year papacy into two hours, with some very creative editing that made me go, "Well, what happened to the past seven years of his life?" Also, I'm partial to Carey Elwes.

And, speaking of clowns, it must be this unspoken Pope thing: http://www.splendoroftruth.com/curtjester/archives/006420.php

Quite frankly, clowns creep me out.

Anonymous said...

Red sparkling wine from Italy? Were you looking for Rosa Regale? I love that stuff! I've been able to find it at both the Melting Pot ($50/bottle) and EPCOT's Italy pavilion ($20-something/bottle). I've also seen it online for a little under $20.

MB said...

YES, Rosa Regale is EXACTLY it. And that's where Flipper and I discovered it, at EPCOT's Food and Wine when we were working as wine educators.

You see how alcohol brings the world together, people?

MB said...

AmyLou the Reader, OMG, that's the most horrible thing I've ever seen. I expected so much more of B16. Normally we Germans don't truck with clowns. Then again, if there's any entity which most needs the saving power of God, it's the mimes.

dan the reader said...

How can you not love mimes!?

Once I was in a City-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Named and a street mime started bugging me. So, thinking he wanted to help me sightsee, I asked him -- in my oh-so white way -- "Yo, homey, where can I kick it around here?".

He started dancing around and pointing down. In retrospect, I suspect he was saying "Yo, white boy, get down with your bad self". But, sadly, I didn't realize this until fter I'd kicked him squarely in his manhood.

You've not lived life until you've not only made a mime cry, but also made him try to do it without any sound...

Ahhh, life is good.

Dan

Laney said...

Dan, you need a blog. I would SO read it. You can tell everyone about how you go around kicking mimes in the crotch. Who wouldn't like that?

Jaime in WA said...

MB:
Love your blog! I've actually hooked a couple of friends on it since I started seeing your articles on msnbc (of course). Always looking forward to what you write next.

SusannahS said...

Just spent a productive afternoon (no, not working as I should) catching up on your blog....love it! Particularly the rumble in the workout room; I'm starting a kickboxing class next week!

Dan the Reader said...

Thanks, Laney. Maybe I'll do that.

And to clear the record, I don't go around kicking mimes in the crotch as a matter of habit, for commercial gain, or for fun.

No, no...

Everyone knows you give them HELLA-WEDGIES for those things.

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body hair removal said...

Brazilian bikini wax is the latest craze. Even macho men are removing their unwanted hair "down there". Macho is the important word here ... nobody is going to rip the hair out of my privates. Makes me think of that scene from 'There's something about Mary'. Ouch!! I'll continue to use my personal body shaver.

Joshua
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