Monthly Archives: December 2009

Pollyanna Stuffs the Ballot Box

Lyda here.

We interrupt this regular blogcast for an important announcement:

Go read Anti-M‘s latest post about her literary escapades. Then go vote for her stories.

Updated to add: Psst – you can vote for her more than once… You didn’t hear it from me…

We now return you to your regularly scheduled zombie fest.

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Pollyanna’s Dreaming of a White Zombie

Just like the zombies I used to know…

Lyda here. But y’all know that already. Yes, another break from packing and apartment hunting. Who knew the apartment offices are all closed on Sunday? Obviously not me. I’ve got a couple of leads, so fingers crossed one of them works out.

Did I mention that we saw “Zombieland” (2009)? I don’t think I did. It was great. Very funny, with one of the best guest cameos ever. I won’t tell you more except that y’all will love it. These are modern, fast-moving, brain-and-body-eating zombies. There is plenty of blood and some gore, but there are also plenty of laughs. It was a LOT funnier than we expected. Woody Harrelson is over-the-top in a good way, and Emma Stone and Abigail Breslin are fantastic, but the character that holds the movie together is the young guy, played by Jesse Eisenburg (he’s also my favorite). His “rules for surviving Zombieland” are very funny, and pretty good too. My favorite rule? Double tap. How many times have you seen someone shoot / hit / blow up a zombie / monster / villian, only to have it rise up again? Double tap, baby.

This movie is on my “movies to own” wish list, for sure.

For less speed, no gore, and only unintentional humor in your zombie movie experience, there is  “White Zombie” (1932) with Bela Lugosi. Filmed on the studio lot, this has the first piano-playing zombie that I’ve seen. It’s also one of the few where the zombies can be turned back into living humans.

These are not your modern, speedy, brain-eating zombies. These are very slow moving, unaggressive, and hard working zombies. Most of the zombies work in the sugar cane mill. There is a “plight of the common worker” subtext in the mill scenes. For example, one zombie falls into the machinery and the machinery just keeps grinding on, literally. No one notices or cares that he’s been added to the processed sugar. My Zombie Army says: Undeath to the Zombie Oppressors! Or they would, if they could say more than “Braiiinnnssss!”

The piano-playing zombie is the main zombie in the film. She is an ethereally beautiful blond who is turned into a zombie on her wedding day by the stupid rich man she rejected. You can’t really tell that much different in her pre- and post-zombification. The casting director was looking for “beautiful blond” not “blond who can act her way out of a paper bag”.

Lesson:  Obsession in the rich can be a dangerous thing. Especially if there is an evil scientist around turning people into zombies. 

Basically it’s the old story: boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy turns girl into zombie.

Girl then wanders around vacantly – but still ethereally beautiful, no rotting at all – and does whatever he commands her to do.

Like play the piano.

Because that’s what men want in a beautiful female slave.

Piano playing.

Well, that’s what I heard.

But after all, it was made in 1932, when piano-playing was as sexual as most movies got.

It could have been the first time most of the audience had even heard of zombies.  It could be the first full-length zombie movie ever made, but I didn’t find confirmation of that.  The acting has been widely panned. Weirdness Alert – According to one fan, this is the movie that Ed Wood and Bela Lugosi are watching in the scene in “Ed Wood” (1994).

The last scene, at the top of the castle – because even in the West Indies, evil scientists have castles, right? – between the hero and the rich guy and Bela Lugosi, with various zombies added in, is interesting, if only for the change of scenery. It’s nice to see the zombies out getting some fresh air instead of stuck in the sugar mill.

The piano playing is only fair. But hey, not bad for an undead chick.

Pollyanna versus the Sprinklers of Doom

Lyda here.

Well, maybe they weren’t Sprinklers of Doom per se, but they did go on about halfway through my yard sale this morning. I had to laugh, and the people who were shopping helped me quickly cover the sprinkler heads with bins and such, so we didn’t get too wet. At that point, I declared a 1-cent sale and a lot of stuff went off to new homes. Only dripping a bit…

Fortunately the books didn’t get wet. That’s what matters, right? And they all went off to new homes with bookaphiles.

We were up at 5:30 a.m., and started carrying stuff out of the apartment pretty much right away. One of the Resident Sith Master’s friends got here at 6 a.m. to help, and the neighbor loaned us a hand truck to cart the stuff down to the street.

I swear, y’all, there were people there as soon as I put the first thing on the grass. Every time the guys brought a fresh load, these people started scrabbling through the boxes like we’d hidden diamonds inside. It was wild! But they bought a lot of stuff so I was happy.

After the first rush, there was a short lull which gave me time to actually unwrap the stuff and put it out. Then more people and more, stopping their cars any which way and grabbing stuff and standing in line to pay me. It was a yard sale frenzy out there!

I learned long ago, the secret with a successful yard sale is put them out early and price things low. I didn’t sell anything for over $10 – even RSM’s old bike went for $5, although I could have sold it ten times over. Most of it went for $1 or less, and people walked away happily with boxes of stuff.

And it was all over by 8, although I had to wait for someone to come pick up some big things they’d paid for. I paid my helpers more than they expected, and all together still cleared almost a hundred dollars.

I left the remnants on the grass with a “FREE” sign. Hopefully it will all be gone by nightfall. And I won’t have to pile it in my car and take it to donate. Cut out the middle man.

I’m achy and sore from all the work – we spent yesterday packing and clearing stuff too – but I feel like we’ve made a lot of progress toward the move. 

Next step: finding a new apartment. Scary, kids! It’s not finding a place, it’s finding one that’s in my budget and that will take the cats too. Sigh.

For now I’m off to the recycling center, as there’s a pile of bottles and cans in my garage. My now almost-empty garage.

Soda bottles and cans of course.

Although mimosas would have been nice this morning. And a margarita sounds terrific right about now.

But I digress…

Pollyanna Presents … Wee Sprite!

Wee Sprite, born 3:23 a.m. 12/19/09, 8 lb 2 oz, 20 inches, via C-section. Mama, baby & Daddy all doing fine. Baby breastfed well & they (all three) were settling in to sleep when I left the hospital. (I’ve been up for more than 24 hours now – since 6-ish yesterday morning – so I’m going to sleep now. Try to get pics posted later – too sleepy to fit the cord into the phone.)

BTW, Outlaw Son was a wonderful partner for Knitting Sprite throughout labor, and Knitting Sprite was just superb in how she handled everything. And my deep, heartfelt thanks go out to Merrilynn, her midwife, Danny B, the stellar labor and delivery nurse, and Dr. Shimoda, who performed the surgery. The whole team was good, kind, and supportive, and made this the best experience it could possibly have been.

Boulder rocks! And so does my daughter.

Pollyanna’s Random Post – Now 100% Digression Free

Lyda here. I took the day off today, which is why I’m writing this in the middle of the day. 

The plan was that I was getting ready for the garage sale and cleaning for tonight’s guests. Some friends were going to come over tonight for a potluck, but they’ve all cancelled, so I cleaned the bathroom for nothing. Oh, except for us, I guess.

Yes, I’m supposed to be searching for an apartment / preparing for the garage sale tomorrow come one come all / packing everything I own / pushing the Resident Sith Master to pack up the stuff on his shelves so that we can sell the shelves in the garage sale.

But hey, I did talk to one guy about an apartment. And I did clean the bathroom. So I deserve a break. It’s almost lunch time, and I have a friend from work coming over after her off-site meeting to pick up some items she’s buying for her grandkids.

——-

So, now it’s later. RSM did clear off the shelves, and the coworker picked up her goodies. I packed up the desk area, although not the computer obviously. The desk being sold is cleared off, so the rest can wait.

Now we’re taking a well-earned break. RSM has a friend coming over soon and I need to go run some errands – get some small bills to make change tomorrow, and post signs. Shit, have to make signs.

I was going to go look at apartments, but it looks like that will have to happen after the sale. Or Sunday. Sunday is good for apartment hunting, right?

Meanwhile, here are some random items I’ve been thinking about posting, which have nothing in common except the pig-licking. Y’all know I’m all about the random.

Wow, I must be tired. I haven’t digressed once.

A couple of blogs to check out:

And then there’s this, which just has everything a Pollyanna could ask for in a pig-licking link:

  • Deep fried butter & the competition for outrageous fried food recipes at the Texas state fair – priceless quote by Abel Gonzalez Jr. (inventor of deep fried butter): 
  • “It’s funny, because being at the state fair is the total opposite of being a computer analyst,” he said. “I finally kind of figured out that I was in the wrong field. …”

And then there’s this:

  • From the May 2009 “Country Living” magazine:  “For just $92, you can spend the night inside the world’s biggest beagle” which is in Idaho.

Is it just me, or do you enter the beagle through his… uh… rear?

I guess that’s the end, folks.

Hey, I couldn’t have resisted for all the deep-fried butter in Texas.

Pollyanna Buys a Pig in a Poke

Lyda here. “Pig in a poke” was one of the search terms that lead someone to our blog recently. And y’all know me – I am happy to oblige.

Pig in a poke defined. See also let the cat out of the bag. Pigs and cats – if only they were zombie pigs and cats, and they were knitting and quilting, that would pretty much sum up our blog.

Poke the pig interactive cartoon. Go ahead, make his day. From the same website: Some enchanted zombie evening...

Other search terms this month:

and of course:

I’ve got “Heathers” taped, and I’m ready to watch this weekend. Should be just perfect for after the garage sale.

Just in case y’all want to come over.

Pollyanna Fidgets

Hey, Anna-Liza here. Feeling awfully fidgety.

Wee Sprite is doing a fine job of building anticipation for her debut. I suspect she may be as much of a drama queen as her mom once was, but we’ll have to wait and see. We’ll have to wait and see about everything, because she’s still not here.

Poor Knitting Sprite! She’s trying to be patient, but as any woman who has had a pregnancy go over the magic 40 weeks knows, patience at this point is more difficult to acheive than uniform sportweight for a first time spinner.

I’m feeling reasonably calm, but I’ve got more to distract me (i.e. job, small boys, etc). However, poor Lyda hasn’t spoken to me for quite a while now because I don’t want to tie up my phone, just in case! Darlin’ K advised me to pack my own “hospital bag” in case I’m there for a long time, so I threw an extra contact lens case, a couple of meal replacement bars, and extra knitting in the knitting bag (which is currently a reusable grocery bag). And I have another knitting deadline, which I can’t tell you about yet, but it involves Malabrigo.

I did get to work out the fidgets some on Saturday. Saturday was Darlin’ K’s birthday, and we had a hot date. The kidlets stayed overnight with friends, and we went out dancing. First we checked out one party, decided it wasn’t quite what K was in the mood for, then headed to Milk  in what is now being called SoCo, for “south of Colfax”. I guess “Capitol Hill” is just not trendy enough. I won’t rant about the proliferation of stupid nicknames similar to LoDo just now – too tired. Besides, it’s not worth a full rant.

Milk is connected to two other clubs, Bar Standard and The Shelter … or something like that. The exact boundaries were rather fluid, so the only time I was really sure which club I was in was upstairs at Bar Standard.  Anyway, access to one gives you access to three dance floors. Bar Standard was rockin’ 80s pop, Milk was sort of more alt-80’s, and The Shelter was industrial/goth, but with a pretty heavy 80’s slant as well. I’m not sure if that happens all the time, or if it was special for K’s birthday.

We amused ourselves wondering how many of the people in the bar had even been born when we first started dancing to that kind of music. Not just that “kind” – sometimes “that exact song”! Darlin’ K wondered if people were dancing to “Dancing with Myself” because they actually liked it or for the kitsch factor. Bet you can guess which one for me!

We had a blast. And quite decent martinis, too.

After Milk, we went to another party at this cool art space and stayed and goofed around and danced some more until 4ish, drove home, had a snack, fell into bed around 5:30. The next morning I asked on Facebook, “Is a grandma-to-be really supposed to act this way?”

So Wee Sprite, you’re going to have to show up and take the “to-be” part off that description! And then I can behave in ways inappropriate to a grandmother and embarrass you when you’re a tween.