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Some friends are staying with us this weekend and introduced us to “Web Soup,” an odd (inferior) mix of “Talk Soup” and “Tosh.0.”

I mention this because there was a video of someone squeezing a boil. (Shudder.)

Guess what that led to.

Yep, a ride on the YouTube highway to hell. (You know how I get.)

That’s how I found the nastiest video ever. (I had no idea people posted all of this kind of stuff. Ignorance was not necessarily bliss in this case.)

Warning: Do not watch if you have a weak stomach.

… you have a portalet on the back of your pickup.

My neighbor might be a redneck.

I’m not sure if I am becoming one, or am one already, but I certainly live next to some.

With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy, here’s my take:

Your neighbor might be a redneck if …

  • He doesn’t own a shirt. (If my next-door neighbor has one, he never wears it.)
  • She drives to the mailbox.
  • You had to put up a taller fence to keep your neighbor from peeping over it to see what you were doing.
  • Her free-range terrier tried to kill your chicken. (Wait — that might make me a redneck too.)
  • She operates a beauty salon in her garage.
  • He has an RV in his back yard, and his kids live in it. (To be clear, they are grown.)
  • There has been a refrigerator box in his yard for three months.

Including the portalet, there are eight examples of redneckery afoot in my neighborhood. Yet I’m only talking about four different neighbors.

Redneck is as redneck does (apologies to Forrest Gump).

Procrastination by parasite

Procrastination takes many forms. With me, it takes the form of a dive into the information vortex.

Specifically, a vortex swirling with images of bed bug-infested mattresses, STD outbreaks, Meth Mouth and bad plastic surgery.

This week’s topic is (drumroll, please) Awful Parasites. (Yes, I do love the show “Monsters Inside Me.”) Here are my favorite horrible kinds:

  • Human Bot Fly, native to South America and parts of North America
  • The Filarial Worm, which completes its entire lifecycle inside its human host
  • Candiru, the “toothpick fish” attracted to urea. Guess where you find urea? Bad news for the fellas. The following image shows one just removed from a poor guy’s (ahem) parts.
  • The Guinea Worm, contracted by drinking contaminated water in South Asia and Africa
  • Cymothoa exigua, or the tongue-eating louse, which, unlike the above, is not a human parasite. This creature attacks fish by going in through the gills, attaching to the tongue, and extracting the blood so that the tongue atrophies. Then the parasite acts as the fish’s tongue. Shudder.

Now I feel all gross and itchy, but I’ve succeeded in wasting plenty of time. Enjoy!

Words of wisdom

Entertainment Weekly has a breakdown of Katie Couric’s book, “The Best Advice I Ever Got: Lessons from Extraordinary Lives.” Some lives are clearly more extraordinary than others. Let’s compare Joyce Carol Oates and Madeleine Albright with Ryan Seacrest. (On second thought, let’s not.)

Here are some select bits of advice:

Never follow anyone else’s path, unless you’re in the woods and you’re lost and you see a path; then, by all means, you should follow that path. — Ellen Degeneres

Yeah. Um. Whose path am I going to follow? What other person has degrees in English, geosciences, performing arts and journalism? I think I’m on my own here. If I could follow a career path, though, please sign me up for J.K. Rowling’s. I’m OK with the whole living-on-welfare-until-book-sells stint. Or Oprah‘s. She’s kind of awesome.

Say yes. Accept the job, agree to that meeting, catch up over a cup of coffee, lend a helping hand … You can always say no later — or so I’ve heard. — Ryan Seacrest

I have been learning how to say no. I’m not good at it. I’m overscheduled. I’m a Type A kind of gal.

So the pie isn’t perfect? Cut it into wedges … Stay in control, and never panic. — Martha Stewart

Amber, you want me in your pod. I will remain calm under pressure, think about all the possible alternatives, and examine fully the consequences. One of my mottos is “Keep calm and carry on.” (Another is “If it ain’t broke, don’t spend three days and four trips to Home Depot trying to fix it,” but that is a story for another day.)

Resist the urge to write lists, especially if the list is Pros and Cons. Just go with your gut. — Hugh Jackman

While my gut is lusting after Jackman as Wolverine, the rest of me is making to-do lists. It’s what I do.

Don’t sleep with your boss. — Chelsea Handler and Barbara Walters

This one is easy. No offense to my former bosses (OK, offense definitely meant toward one of them), but I never had the desire to do the horizontal mambo with them. Never. Ew. Especially as many of them were women. (Wonderful women, but still.) I know many of the students in my department fantasize about my current boss because he is very cerebral, does yoga, gets acupuncture, and is very much in touch with his sensitive side. Fine. I can’t look at him that way. Ew, again.

Katie Couric didn’t ask me for my advice, but I’ll share it anyway. (Don’t expect anything too fresh. Isn’t all advice recycled?)

  • Decide what you like to do, then figure out how to get paid for it. (I like to observe and report.)
  • If a big project is causing problems, break it into smaller, more manageable tasks. (How do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time.)
  • Write to-do lists. You’ll feel a sense of accomplishment when you mark off completed tasks. (Sorry, Hugh.)
  • Take time to do things that are unproductive but enjoyable. (All work and no play makes me a dull person.)

Uh oh. That was another list. Sorry again, Hugh!

Surface pressure

I attended a lecture last night by Nicholas Carr, author of “The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains.” I was very interested in what he had to say because I have written about Carr before, and I have had his book on my shelf for nearly a year.

Sadly, I’ve been too distracted to read it.

And, sadly again, that’s his point.

What he says is true: The constant barrage of information via smartphone, iPad, desktop computer, laptop, iTouch, etc., is eroding our ability to concentrate. We’re reverting to cavepeople distracted by all the sights and sounds of our environment, as opposed to the erudite focusers we became after Gutenberg invented the printing press.

One of his slides gave me great pause.

People claim they check email a couple of times per hour. Once research participants were fitted with eye-tracking paraphernalia, researchers discovered they checked email 30-40 times per hour.

Yikes.

No wonder I’m not done with my dissertation yet.

To his credit, Carr identified the many ways the Internet has improved our lives, including enhanced visual-spatial skills. And he admits to being distracted as well.

Here’s the point I’ve made before: The Internet is not going away. So what do we do to maintain and improve our ability to focus?

We turn it off. Use it sparingly. Have conversations without checking email, Twitter, Facebook, texts, etc. In Carr’s words to me in the book he signed, “Stay deep.”

I’ll be looking for a nice WiFi-disabled cave to hang out in while I finish my dissertation.

WrestleMania was glorious. GLORIOUS!

I laughed. I cried. It was better than “Cats.”*

It began with a bang: Edge, the R-rated Superstar, vs. Alberto Del Rio.

 

VS.

 

 

 

 

 

 





My first hearty laugh of the evening came when the announcer claimed that Edge, in his vise grip on Del Rio, was trying to “rip the pectoral from the bone.” Sure. Sure he was.

I enjoyed many more noteworthy moves:

There were tire irons, sledgehammers, folding chairs, ATVs, pyrotechnics, muscular men in small panties — everything a girl could want.

And Pee-wee Herman. What the heck was he doing there? Well, a little sketch with The Rock.

And Snooki. She wrestled with Trish Stratus and John Morrison against LayCool. And busted out some acrobatics. Who knew?

My favorite part was listening to the commentary from the announcers. Here’s a sample:

  • “I’m sure that knee doesn’t need any more punishment delivered to it.”
  • “Whatever is going through his mind is definitely diabolical.”
  • “That could have damaged his nervous system.”
  • “Is there an escape from hell’s gate?”
  • “We all smell what The Rock is cooking.”

Dominic and Gideon were fascinated. Dominic even felt the need to document the occasion.

Yes, more scarring.

I was scarred by the sight of John Cena’s jorts.

Despite that, plans are underway to watch WrestleMania XXVIII … in Miami!

*If anyone can find a video of the original Broadway show commercial that used this line, I will be eternally grateful.

“What is this, Mama?”
“This, Honey, is WrestleMania.”

Oh yes, it is.

In a shocking metamorphosis that began with moving out to “The Country” in 2006, continued with burning trash in the backyard and attending the Redneck Games and Rattlesnake Roundup, I have become what I feared the most: a redneck.

Or at least I have begun to assimilate into the culture.

I’ve been excited all week because tonight is Wrestlemania XXVII.

Ed almost had me talked into going to Atlanta to witness it live. But there is that little matter of an 8 a.m. class I have to teach. So, thanks to Xfinity, I can enjoy The Rock in the comfort of my own home. Oh yes, I would like to smell what The Rock is cookin’.

Also a draw: The Miz, whom I remember from “The Real World: Back to New York.” He’s also the WWE World Champion. And he’s AWESOME!

Ed and Trish have arrived for the event. Ed is in the kitchen, making nachos. Trish is taking bets on who wins each match. The kids are engrossed. Eddie is amused, as he usually is, by what I get us into. I’m writing this confessional. All is right in the world.

Look for the recap tomorrow.

Save the children

No. 7, “Why my children will be scarred for life,” tied for second place with No. 8, “The time I was sentenced to church,” in the Choose your own adventure race. Today I feel the need to address that topic. (Eventually, I’ll tell the church story also.)

So here goes:

Why my children will be scarred for life:

I stifle their creativity.
I will not let Dominic make sound effects in my car. I will not let Gideon draw on his bedroom walls with a Sharpie.

I limit their ability to make fashion choices.
I will not let Dominic wear a cape to school. I make Gideon wear his jacket when it is below 68 degrees outside.

I restrict their freedom of expression.
I will not let Dominic talk about poop at the dinner table. I will not let Gideon have a tantrum in the grocery store because I refuse to buy chocolate Easter bunnies.

I prohibit lifestyle choices.
I will not let Dominic subsist on bread alone. I will not let Gideon eat candy instead of a meal.

I repress their nurturing capabilities.
I will not let Dominic have a bat for a pet. I will not let Gideon and Mona the Dog swap spit.

Do you think I’m a terrible mother yet? Here’s more evidence:

  • I make them listen to the Ramones, the Monkees, Neil Diamond, Journey, Lady Gaga, the Pixies, Katy Perry, Marvin Gaye, Duran Duran, the B-52’s, Darius Rucker and Hanson — sometimes all in one day during the drive to school (view sample playlist).
  • I make them do manual labor: make their beds, clean up their toys, feed the dog, feed the cat, give water to the hermit crabs, carry in the groceries, carry their dirty dishes to the sink, help me make dinner, sweep the stairs, vacuum the living room, help Eddie with the yard work, etc.
  • I make them watch as many nature documentaries as episodes of “iCarly” and “Spongebob Squarepants.”
  • I make them eat kid-unfriendly vegetables such as Brussels sprouts, leeks, rutabagas, squash, broccoli, green beans, eggplant, beets, turnips, mushrooms, fennel, peppers, onions, spinach and celery. (Each of those has appeared on their plates some time over the past two months.)

So there you have it: one awful mother = two scarred children. Judge away.


No. 4 for the win

Well, I’m surprised. No. 4, “My latest food crushes,” won the “Choose your own adventure” race. No. 7, “Why my children will be scarred for life,” and No. 8, “The time I was sentenced to church,” tied for second.

As you wish.

I can still attack a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos, but I’ve moved on.

Warning: The following items are not very healthy, especially if you eat them in large, ridiculous quantities (not that I would do that, of course), but they are delicious!

  1. Dark chocolate with sea salt from L’Artigiano by way of Wright Square Café in Savannah. Expensive as hell, but totally worth it.
  2. Gianduja hazelnut chocolate paste from Leone by way of Eataly in New York. It’s like Nutella’s snooty, cultured older brother. I feel like carrying a tube around in my purse and squeezing it into my mouth at stoplights.
  3. Fage Greek yogurt with fruit. My favorite is the blueberry-acai. Sweet grandmother’s spatula!
  4. Kettle brand baked potato chips, salt and fresh ground pepper flavor. I can be full to the bloated point and still devour an entire bag.
  5. Annie Chun’s sesame seaweed snacks. I have my friend Sophia to thank for this addiction. It seems like something you shouldn’t eat — it looks like a piece of green, crumply paper — but it tastes so good!
  6. Basler Läckerli, a Swiss biscuit made with spices, honey, almonds. I’ve been to Switzerland twice, both times around Christmas, which is when these treats are popular. I found them in Bern. I would fly to Switzerland just for these things. Actually, I would even walk and swim to Switzerland for them. They are that good. 

So that’s it. All my latest nasty little snack secrets are out in the open. I feel so vulnerable. (And fat.)

Choose your own adventure

Writer’s block. Dissertation stress. The lure of my pollinated backyard.

Whatever the reason, it is quite sad that I have had nothing to say here since the Rattlesnake Roundup. (Maybe that said it all.)

So you get to choose a topic:

  1. How to recognize and use rhetorical devices
  2. Common grammar mistakes and how to avoid them
  3. Pet peeves
  4. My latest food crushes
  5. My dissertation: What’s up with that?
  6. Newt Gingrich
  7. Why my children will be scarred for life
  8. The time I was sentenced to church
  9. Students, broken down by kind (an extension of this post)
  10. What I would do if I got Johnny Depp alone in a room

Your choice. Make a selection in the comments by Thursday, March 24, at midnight.