Thursday, February 26, 2009

Am I Nick Nolte's Mother?

I've been joking around all winter about Ludwig Van Beethoven, Yahoo Serious and Nick Nolte to everyone who'll listen because the dry winter air is playing some unfortunate pranks upon the already distinctive coif of the younger moppet. But it struck me today, what if the cosmos is trying to tell me something? What are the similarities between Nick Nolte and Younger Moppet of three years? 

Fabulous hair
They're both really, really bad drivers and, in fact, probably shouldn't be trusted behind the wheel
A flair for bright prints and colors
Tenuous mastery of motor control
A real creative gift for performance and acting
Really poor impulse control
Notably bad Italian accents

Luckily, only one smells of lavender shampoo and pads into my room each night for a snuggle.

Tuesday, February 24, 2009

Recent Tweets by Oscar Wilde

I know! Who knew Oscar Wilde was on Twitter? Apparently Blicky's friended him on Facebook and follows him on Twitter. He must be really really old, but apparently he stays pretty well informed:

Patriotism is the true virtue of the vicious.

One of tragic failings of our generation is how much the workplace has started to cut into our Facebook time.

The debate surrounding the economic bailout is the most vicious of all; that's because there's so little at stake.

If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh otherwise they'll kill you.

History will reveal that the mormons were right to back Proposition Eight. Marriage should be between a man and a woman, and a woman, and a woman, and a woman, and a woman and a woman, and a woman.

"Fidelity": Don't Divorce... from Courage Campaign on Vimeo.

I have to go because if I watch any more, apparently my heterosexual marriage and lifestyle might spontaneously combust.

Monday, February 23, 2009

Karm-A-Thon Winners and Blicky's Red Carpet Reportage

We're back after a week of school vacation day trips to historical museums, natural history museums, ice skating and then collapsing with a lovely variety of late February fevers and agues. I wanted to get back on as soon as I could to announce the three winners of our Karm-A-Thon. They are:

Katie over at Ragamuffin Gal for her amazing post about a meaningful connection with a random stranger. It demonstrates the power we have to offer kindness to anyone we encounter. Her blog is so beautiful to look at while you're reading too.

Ann's Rants has become one of my favorite new blogs to read. She is so funny. I just popped over there to grab the link and found a great post about ironic onesies. I would have loved the "emo" one. Well Ann actually made a donation to Willow House in honor of the Karm-A-Thon. We, the staff at Blicky Kitty are truly honored and money is pretty powerful way for spreading karma in the world. Her donation will help support families grieving the loss of a child or spouse.

I also loved Kat's post on Poetikat's Invisible Keepsakes because she was giving comfort to her mom on Valentine's Day. They recently lost her dad and she knew Valentine's Day might be tough for her so Kat and her husband took her out to dinner and a movie and to Verdi's La Traviata the next day. It's often the easiest thing to respond to the needs of a loved one and the added benefit is that is means so much more coming from a daughter or a wife or a mom.

Again thanks to everyone who contributed to our Karm-A-Thon!

* * *

While we were on school vacation and nursing sundry maladies, Blicky had to go out and find another job. He's been moonlighting to support his nasty kitty plastic surgery habit. He landed a gig reporting on oscar fashions, but I'm not sure if they'll hire him back next year. I don't think any of the stars actually answered his questions.

I think his stylist might have gotten his gender mixed up a bit, but it doesn't matter much since he's been (you know) fixed. He was just pleased that so many of the stars seemed to copy his carefully cultivated pale shouldered elegance. Here are some excerpts of his interviews.

Mao nice shoulders, mao can I call you Ella Enchanted?

Mao, listen up pop-tart, I'm only interviewing you because they're paying me. Mao ignore the fact that the fact that the kittens both think I'm mean because I don't let them watch your insipid show that teaches young girls to dress slutty and act rude. Mao, will also disregard the fact that an entire village could be fed for a year on what you earn on one night of a concert tour. But just can't ignore this dress. That is a true travesty. You're out of your league, powder-puff. Oh and are you having a hard time not pulling your eyes into slants and traumatizing your young Asian American fans?

Mao, how is this a statement about style? Someone could pour shellac over her head, cover it all with yellow feathers and those wiggly eyes from the craft store, slap on a pair of ducky slippers and she'd be red carpet ready. If a stylist could ever devise a way to make her look bad, that would be a crowning achievement, mao. 

Mao, rockin it.

Again, not a stylistic coup, mao. This would look like a particularly unfortunate prom gown on a normal person.
Blicky's pick for rockin' the red carpet.

Tuesday, February 17, 2009

Blicky's Meditations on Aging

Someone once told me about a local organization of women called a Crone Society or just plain Crones, I'm not sure, where women gather and sit in a spiral and take turns, starting with the youngest, relating what it means to have reached their age and what their perspective on life is from where they sit.
I love this idea on so many levels because first of all, how many tabloids in our culture scream out to us, "Woman Reports Valuable Wisdom As She Ages?" We are so much more concerned with the contour of Jessica Simpson's arse than we are with the subtleties of Madeleine Albright's insights into the current geopolitical landscape. I applaud the revival of the Crone because it restores honor and respect to aging.

So this week, as I make my graceful transition from thirtyten to fortydamnit, I thought I'd share my own insights about aging; the cool parts and the not so cool and impart some advice to the kittens seated farther out along the spiral.

OK Cool Part About Aging:
  • You mostly forget your age. I still think I'm in my early twenties until I catch a glimpse of my hand and shriek. I also gasp in horror each time I espy my smile lines in the car mirror.
  • Your body has all this cool science project stuff happen to it. Like when you do bicycling in Pilates your tummy does this super cool Sharpei dog thing where all the skin collects down next to your sports bra (note to self: do not show this post to spouse). My sister showed me the cool inner elbow trick five years ago and I didn't know what she was talking about, until now. Oh, and no one ever told me your ears keep growing. Time lapse photography shows me looking a lot like Gollum by 2029.
  • The forty-year-old self is infinitely cooler and stronger than the twenty year old self, and that inner beauty rocks! Most women I know wouldn't go back to twenty even if they were offered the opportunity.
  • You can go out with a bunch of friends and not have to worry about getting hit on. Nuf said.

Now for the sucky part about aging:
  • You mostly forget about your age. This is fine until the day you realize the guy you thought was checking you out is just waiting for you to vacate a parking spot or waiting for you to order lunch. Note to self: next time a cute guy asks to sit next to you at the movies, the proper response is not, "yeah, yeah but keep your paws to yourself, butterscotch!" but rather "Oh certainly young man, and will your girlfriend be needing this other seat?"
  • Your body has all this cool science project stuff happen to it. This is not so cool when you're Posh Spice and you're working out everyday, not eating and trying to be all Posh spice and not all Scary Spice and someone gets all up in you biness and posts a picture of you in a gold bustier with a lump of skin hanging below your armpit like a crestfallen scrotum.
  • The forty-year-old self is infinitely cooler than the twenty year  old self, and that inner beauty rocks! You get to look back at all the stupid things that idiot inhabiting your much hotter, younger body did with all that precious youth. I now understand that I should have slept my way to the top while I still could.
  • You can go out with a bunch of friends and not have to worry about getting hit on. Nuf said.
Oh and for you spring kittens, aside from sleeping your way to the top, I will impart some additional skills for a young gentlewoman. Here's how to get rid of the gross, drunk dude when you just want to spend time out with your friends. Your main priority should be to disabuse him of the opinion that you're hot. I know this is hard for many of you young things, but trust me; not every guy needs to go forth into this world cherishing your hotness. Here are the fastest ways to achieve this goal:
1. Speak a strange dialect with lots of clicks and snorts. This usually only works if you happen to be out with my cousin Anna who without skipping a beat would fall into a sustained click-snort conversation with you.
2. Pretend to have a fit of some sort. This works like gang busters for the really persistent or the really drunk. It usually works best if you happen to be out with Sally, who provides masterful supporting dialogue like, "oh no, not again, someone please get us some water."
3. Make you're eyes really wide and stare-ie and make your voice really gravelly, grunty and erratic. Look deeply into his eyes and say, "The woman at the center said I was ready to have a boyfriend."

For all of my sisters farther along our winding spiral: we're listening...


I'll post the results of our Karm-A-Thon at the end of the week! Here's some mandatory fun in the meantime:

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Blicky has prepared a gorgeous meal for everyone to say thank you and namaste for today's Karm-A-Thon.
Mmm, good kitty! Roquefort and pear strudel, watercress salad with port-braised figs followed by steamed mussels with sausages and fennel. We probably don't need dessert but he's made some nice lemon custard cakes. In case your cat doesn't cook, here are the recipes.
I was delighted with the creative, fun and profound blog posts that everyone contributed. Lavinia and Musey the consumate bloggy hostesses/schemers add such a feeling of fun to any blog event. They not only wrote wonderful posts but add fun and joy to the process. Kat at Poetikat's Invisible Keepsakes wrote such a thoughtful and caring entry about spending time with her grieving mom. Steviewren wrote such a touching piece about her children. CDB crafted a wonderful poem for the occasion and got it posted right before her Valentine's date, so the link is below if you haven't seen it. Find the link to Ann's Rants below while your at it. She not only coined a new phrase, "What in the Sally Jesse Raphael...", which will undoubted become commonly used, but she made a donation to an actual charity in honor of our Karm-a-thon! Katie at Ragamuffin Gal wrote an amazing post about a random encounter at Walmarts that became a meaningful connection. Well I'm going to hit it now because I've got to haul my thirtyten-year-old arse ten miles tomorrow morning. Enjoy a wonderful night with your loved ones, your Ben and Jerries — or in a perfect world— both, dear readers.

Oh and here are some fun additions to the new candy Sweethearts sayings from reader comments. I had started with:

and these were some of the funny ones left in comments:
Courtesy of Muse Swings:
From the inimitable Self Deprecaun:
From CDB:
From Pearl (I nearly split my gut when I read this one):
From Steviewren:
From Debby:
From Anna Lefler:

You can find links to all sites below of in my blogroll.

Friday, February 13, 2009

Welcome to Blicky Kitty's Valentine's Day Karm-A-Thon

Vouchsafe, thou wonder, to alight thy steed,
And rein his proud head to the saddle-bow;
If thou wilt deign this favour, for thy meed
A thousand honey secrets shalt thou know:
Here come and sit, where never serpent hisses,
And being set, I'll smother thee with kisses;
(I was always taught that the only proper response to Shakespeare's 
Venus and Adonis was not reverence but snorts and guffaws)

Happy Valentine's Day! A short while back Blicky and I asked our bloggy friends to share a thoughtful compliment about someone they know or blog about a compliment they have given. Here's the original post. So today Blicky's really feeling the love.  He's eagerly waiting for all of our bloggy friends in a canal-side cafe in Bruges where he's taken the liberty of ordering us espresso, brioches and chocolate-dipped strawberries. Oh, and because of the time difference, cocktail hour will be starting at 12 noon our time. Cheers!
We have so many great blogs to visit today. I've always loved the idea of karma. I don't profess to know much about it, but I think it's more complex than just getting what we deserve. I've always imagined it to be like cosmic ecology.  If we put blicky stuff out there, we're making our world blickier. So here's to de-blickifying the world, one post at a time.

Go ahead! All our blickosphere fare is calorie-free.

Our Karma-thon starts at the of the most gracious and fun bloggy hostesses over at Muse Swings. Her fun events never fail to a-muse and she inspired me to do this. 

Yay! Mary at Little Weloos Mom wants to play too. She is seriously fun (check our her header) so I can't wait to see what she's writing about.

Kat is happily joining us, but I think she thinks we're singing Karma Chameleon. I'm not sure where she'll post but it's always fun to read both her blogs; her amazing poetry and thoughtful posts on Poetikat's Invisible Keepsakes and the funny walks down memory lane Poetikat's Blast From the Past

I heard Steviewren at A Little Bird Told Me So is going to play too. Her blog is just a joy to visit. It fills me with an admiration for what is possible with a creative mind and confident brush stroke.

The multi-talented Melissa at Multi-Tasking Mama will join us too and we'll have the added treat of seeing what chemical enhancements follow when one blogs on painkillers. I've been on laudinum for years and it hasn't affected my writignkjd at bit!

Blicky's apparently got some flowers for Mimi over at Screaming Mimi because she said he looked handsome.

We might have a few blog-o-crats in our midst too. She doesn't post on Saturdays so she might not play, but Blicky has long been an acolyte/stalker of Anna Lefler's. If you haven't yet been over to Life Just Keeps Getting Weirder, you're missing the kind of snort-your-coffee-through-your-nose kind of good time you always hoped for in bloggyland.

I've had fun getting to know CDB through her posts at Fingers and Toes. She's a smart funny, and talented writer and I can't wait to see what she'll post.

I'm apparently one of the few that hasn't known about the awesome Ann at Ann's Rants. She is absolutely hysterical and an amazing writer. I'm pretty sure feline bloggy acolytes will get autographed copies of her work when she's a famous author.

Yay! Lavinia is joining us too! She has a beautiful blog called the the Birdbath Chronicles which she always adorns with the most beautiful images you can imagine. She is also a super fun and gracious bloggy event hostess.

Katie over at Ragamuffin Gal with be joining our karm-a-thon as well! Her blog is so lush and gorgeous. I find it inspiring to see her artwork-- enjoy!

Here's where I'll be in the morning:
We're bringing the kittens to Old Sturbridge Village in Sturbridge MA. It's apparently one of the largest living history museums in the country and it focuses on life in New England from 1790 to 1840. It's one of the few places where you can really let kittens run wild without worry.

If you'd like to join our Karm-a-Thon just leave a comment and I'll add you in when I return.

For today's mandatory fun I thought I'd give you a winter love song (studio version, unofficial video) from a NYC band I LOVE:

Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Blicky Kitty Tours the Sweethearts Factory

Mao baby you are just driving my traffic up and up and up. My RSS feed is so into your mailbox. You are making my discreet page views go wild.

Blicky are you hitting on the blogosphere? That is completely inappropriate! We're not celebrating that kind of Valentine's Day! Today I've planned an edifying tour of the Necco candy factory in nearby Revere, Massachusetts.


OK Blick, you can just stay home and finish your bath then. These things have been my favorite candy since I was little and I was delighted to learn that they're actually a local business (New England Confectionery Company) and they make my other favorites, Mary Janes. Luckily since I'm blogging you can't see my disturbing absence of teeth.
These candies have been around in their present form since the turn of the century. Some of the 100 sayings they still include are "be mine," "kiss me," "be true" and "sweet talk." Apparently since some came in larger shapes they had room for longer sayings like "Please send a lock of your hair by return mail." or "How long do I have to wait? Pray be considerate." Starting in the 1990's they decided to update some and retire others. Hence the very popular "email me" and "fax me". This has tapped into the zeitgeist of a new generation that uses romantic faxes to express their most intimate sentiments. Apparently this year will include new sayings about the weather such as "melt my heart" and "in a fog."

I'm such a fan of the sweet and entertaining confections that I've started collecting some of the rarer ones. These are some new sayings that they've retired immediately due to a lack of commercial success:

Blicky says: Mao, really, friend me on Facebook....

Anyway, I've sent a bunch of suggestions that keep getting rejected:


Feel free to add your own....

Monday, February 9, 2009

Running Induced Omnipotence: Symptoms and Etiology

Yesterday I numbered among the many New England denizens who took advantage of the temporary thaw on Sunday to get out for some fresh air and vitamin D. Only, because I'm turning thirtyten next week, my foray out-of-doors was a ten mile training run for my celebratory roadrace.

So I found myself wondering if anyone else out there was afflicted by exercise-induced omnipotence. Luckily Blicky is an expert on the disorder and has devised a detailed description and etiology of the symptoms. Prerun-mile 1
The first stage is characterized my extreme fatigue, fear and ill humor. The inner dialogue usually consists of extremely negative thought patterns with regards to the upcoming run. It's so cold, and I'm safe and warm with my book and my fleecy blanket. I might get bitten by a dog or mowed down by a crazed Sunday morning drunk driver. Also, I've heard there have been black bear sightings and I can't find the pepper spray. I'm too old. Not too old to find the pepper spray, just too old to be running a distance race.

Mile 2
OK this feels pretty good. But I hope that great dane on Pine Street is inside. What would I do if I ever ran into that bear?

Mile 3
That dog couldn't hurt me that much.

Mile 4
How many miles left? OK that great dane is inside. Time to find a better song on the iPod. The normal person usually maintains this stage of endorphin induced omnipotence for the duration of the run, as seen in the fuchsia line above. The truly afflicted progress into the more pathological stages of exercise omnipotence as indicated by the yellow line.

Miles 5-7
Oh I'm just gliding along like I'm on wheels! I like the colors on that cute little contemporary over there. Maybe I could do something like that. Ok I'm DEFINITELY going to win this race next week. Yeah, I'm average 10 minute miles and there will be young men in their 20's and 30's, but they don't brave roving bears, dogs and chickens in their training runs. They're going down. Also, I think I could probably change careers and become a recording artist. I'll learn how to use Garage Band and maybe a musical instrument make millions on my first mash-up. What should my stage name be? 

Miles 8-9
If that bear came up to me now I would beat it up. First I'd poke him in the eyes with my fingers then I'd elbow him in the stomach and rotate my arm up to punch him in the nose. Then I'd knock him down and punch him. Actually, maybe I'd dress up like a female bear first like Bugs Bunny used to do, and then when he fell in love with me, I'd beat him up or give him Acme TNT inside a candy box. I might have to be careful of how to play it to the media, with my recording contract and all. Extreme sufferers, during this final stage of endorphin madness have been known to devise evil plots involving dark magic and horcruxes to kill Harry Potter, attain immortality and rule the world or plan preemptive invasions of Iraq. 

Mile 10-postrun
This is stupid. I'm a terrible runner. I bet even...even...Ozzy Osbourne or Rush Limbaugh could beat me next Sunday. This hurts. It's cold. The inner dialogue usually degenerates into constant repetitive profanity at this point.

There is only one cure that I would strongly recommend: sloth. I have no cure for turning thirtyten, but it most assuredly isn't signing up for a ten mile roadrace.

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

A Formal Retraction

As some of you might know I was a bit enthusiastic when I first discovered Webkinz World. Now, on the advice of my lawyers, I wish to post a formal retraction to my earlier post. I was wrong to espouse the use of a children's game for adults.

Dear Mrs. ______,

We are writing to inform you that your Webkinz account is on probation status pending review of your case. I have outlined our major concerns below:

While your superior computer hacking skills are commendable, we don't condone the changes you made to the standard phrases and words in KinzChat. The other members playing games in the club house and tournament areas are presumably small children, and therefore "Suck it!" or "You're going down!" are not appropriate exclamations upon winning at bowling.

We've also been meaning to talk to you about the way Pinky has been dressing. Our programmers did not add a bikini or diamond encrusted necklace to the W Shop and we need it removed immediately (although you may leave the zebra-striped fly shoes with dice tank). Please be advised that Pinky needs to be dressed appropriately in the future.

Somehow you've accrued 1,650,000 Kinzcash in your account, and in response to your repeated queries, no, you cannot "withdraw" Kinzcash for use in any kind of real world context. We don't know how you were able to amass this much, but our programmers are taking a closer look at your use of the "Wheel of Wow." 

We are unable to track Pearl's whereabouts in Webkinz world, but have had complaints from some of our younger clients about "a bad, bad horsie in a leopard hat" who took all their Kinzcash.

We will not elaborate on last week's incident in the Clubhouse, but we feel it necessary to restate that alcohol, cigarettes and firearms are strictly forbidden in Webkinz world.


I. P. Freeley,
WebKinz Corporate Headquarters

Blicky's Mandatory Fun:

Conor Oberst, Vancouver
The studio version is below in my iLike playlist.

Monday, February 2, 2009

In Which Blicky Dines with One of the Romanovs

I am just astonished that many of my readers didn't believe a single word of the meme I recently maimed. A few people requested that I elaborate on some of the items. So here's the story of our Thanksgiving dinners with Tsar Nicholas' daughter. Anastasia, the Grand Duchess of Russia was sadly killed during the Bolshevik Revolution in 1918, but there were at least ten women who claimed to be her. One of them was friends with my great aunt Edith in Newport RI. She had published a book detailing her life in Russia and possessed numerous pictures of herself and the Royal family. My great uncle Buster always believed her. He'd say, "Just think! You had Thanksgiving with royalty."

The weird thing is that no one called her Anastasia. She was just Mrs. Smith.  I have memories of her from when I was around 10 or 11 years old. I already towered over her because she was so very tiny and very frail. She'd come up to me after church and talk at great length in a teeny tiny whispering voice. I usually couldn't understand a word she said so I'd stare at her eye folds. She had these crazy rubbery eye folds that hung almost all the way down to her eyelashes. She used to paint really beautiful Easter eggs and pass them around after church. As she got older the intricate painted lines on the eggs became wigglier and wigglier, but they were still beautiful. Everybody in Newport was so solicitous of her. They'd lean over and listen to her, then escort her around as if she were one of those fragile Easter eggs. 
One Thanksgiving, when we were quite a bit older, my (awesome rock star of a) sister and I were charged with driving her safely home. Maybe it was just a mistake to entrust her to us because we can sometimes be a little on the irreverent side. Every sibling in my family should have been automatically banned from coming within ten feet of that poor, sweet woman especially after my older brother tried to grill her repeatedly about how Catherine the Great died. Anyhow, I think I was driving, Anastasia was riding shotgun and my sister was in back. All of a sudden, the aroma of the car's interior underwent a drastic and most unfortunate transformation. We had all been making small talk. Anastasia continued, undaunted; making her whispery, quiet, small talk and I could hear my sister's voice become clipped as if she were stifling a laugh. You know how when you suppress a really, really powerful laugh it sounds like you're crying? I managed to cry out very quietly "Was...that....youu?" I think I was laughing so hard all I could emit were a few gasps of air and tears were just streaming down my face. From the back seat: ""


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