I'm Dannielynn's Father!

Ok, I know what you're thinking: "Um, due to your female genitalia, I'm almost 99.9% sure you're not a father." For those who don't have their fingers on the pulse of the National Enquirer, I guess the other possible thing you're thinking is, "Who is Dannielynn?" Well, let me answer your question with another question? Do you know who Anna Nicole Smith is? Dannielynn would be her 7 month or so old daughter, a dear child conceived out of wedlock. Anna Nicole's history includes topless dancing, playboy centerfolds, a marriage to an 89 year old oil tycoon (I thought it was true love, though many have accused her of gold-digging, but that's niether here nor there), and her own reality TV show in which she let us in to her world, otherwise known as a drug induced haze.

Her colorful background has allowed for numerous men to claim that they are Dannielynn's father with a certain amount of credibility. At least three have come forward to claim paternity, and the courts are all in a tizzy, especially since Anna Nicole's early demise last month. I am here to set the story straight. I, New Girl, am Dannielynn's father. While she has spent the last forever number of years fighting her evil stepson for the estate of her late husband, she has secretly had access to his Swiss bank account, worth almost as much as his known legal estate (about $500 million). What has she been doing with that money? I'm glad you asked. She has invested in cutting edge reproductive research looking for a way to use the DNA from two of the same sex to create a human embryo. This research is pretty hush hush due to the implications for same sex couples and the holy hell it would cause among the religious right, so I'm not surprised you haven't heard about it. You can trust me all the same.

Mid-summer, 2005, researchers found a way to make it happen, and Anna Nicole was eager to be the first to put it to the test. She asked me to be the genetic material donor. I was so touched, how could I say no? Well, a short time later (about 9 months), out popped Dannielynn. All this is to say, I'm tired of the lies and the hullabaloo, and I thought it was time to reveal the truth. The judge will be receiving my DNA sample any day now. When I am awarded custody of Dannielynn, I pledge to continue the fight for my, I mean her, millions from J. Howard's estate.

My new haircut (is coming soon)

I have been getting many comments about the lack of recent posts. As I think I've stated before, I don't like posting when I don't have something funny to say. I laugh plenty, but mostly at other people, and recounting their embarrassing moments and anecdotes doesn't strike me as appropriate, or all that funny.

The other day, just after such a conversation about the lack of fodder for my blog, I got gum stuck in my hair. How does a grown woman spit gum out into her hand, but miss the hand and hit her hair instead? It was quite stressful as I was just about on my way out the door. I couldn't go out like that, it would only make it worse, not to mention look ridiculous. Do I go get the peanut butter? For those of you not in the know, peanut butter breaks up the sticky property in gum, making it easy (well, easier) to extract from hair. The problem with that idea was, I can't go out with peanut butter in my hair either. Even if I had wiped most of it out, I'd still smell like a 4th grader's lunchbox. Instead, I did my best to work through the gum knot, pulling away strands of hair one and two at a time, but quite frankly, there was also plenty of hair breaking going on. If my hair dresser were dead, he'd role over in his grave. Luckily he's alive, but that's neither here nor there. All through this process, I was thinking, "I can't believe this happened to me, this is something Tonda would do." Luckily she agreed when I told her.

So, all that is to say that I have resolved to cut my hair as soon as possible to a length in which I would have to be doing some pretty crazy flailing and head shaking in order for gum to have a trajectory from my mouth to my hair. Also, I'm just tired of my hair being so long. The boyfriend isn't thrilled with the idea of me cutting my hair, but I have a sneaking suspicion that he'd rather that than think about gum in my hair, due to his revulsion of gum in general. Thus, should he complain about my haircut, I will silence him with memories of what I will hereafter call, "The Gum Affair."

Blasphemous Thoughts (aka Immaturity)

I think I might be a bit too immature to really appreciate some religious literature, particularly the more erotic/suggestive kind. The kind that reads, "The sweet dew of the eternal Trinity gushed forth from the fountain of the everlasting Godhead into the flower of the chosen maid." For a "holy virgin in body and spirit," Mechthild sure knew a little somethin' somethin'. If we trace it back to Song of Songs (or perhaps there's more preceding Song of Songs that my ignorances knows nothing of), might it then be fair to say that Song of Songs is the first romance novel? Really, slap a picture of Fabio as a pirate, a viking or a rogue (see above) on the cover of a pocket book sized publication of Song of Songs and we've got a bestseller fo shizzle, you feel me?

As for me, I'm just a hopeless romantic waiting for the right guy to say to me, "You are an allurement to my Godhead."

Sex and Seminary (I Like Alliteration)*

*For those of you offended by my complete irreverence, I apologize. I have no intention of pissing people off, mostly. Also, I really like Suzanne, Brian, and Scot and I appreciate their willingness to share their opinions on things. So like, if any of you are reading this now, you rock.

I had dinner with some delightful seminary folk last weekend. Dinner table conversation turned to sex, I think I may have started that. Not so surprising really. I mean, in my family it's a toss up between sex and bathroom humor for most frequent dinner time topic. We're pretty mature and sophisticated. Either that or we're just too influenced by the dumbed-down, sex driven filth that Hollywood puts out these days. How political, I like it. (Just to clarify, however, lest someone were to think that I'm actually very deep and thoughtful, I LOVE dumbed-down, sex driven Hollywood filth!) So anyway, we were noting that in seminary, the bigger story is who IS having sex, rather than who's not. It's sad really, because isn't it during sex that most people speak most directly to God? Oh.... it's during private prayer? My bad.

This all leads me to wonder: how would seminary be different if everyone were getting laid?
- Barth, Tillich, Rahner, Suzanne, Brian, Scot...... can't we all just get along?
- A lot of us would be going to hell, cuz we're not all married, isn't sex before marriage sinful? I thought I read that somewhere.
- There'd be a lot more seminary babies, cuz I heard that contraception is pretty evil too. I'm not sure how that works, but I prefer to believe without questioning, it leaves more time for picking out my outfits.
- I can't decide if "feet" would come up more or less during Old Testament.
- #*&% (name's been changed for security purposes) wouldn't be quite so tormented by his (or her) raging hormones.
- Maybe a proof text would be discovered that justifies orgiastic hedonism
- Would more men take the Human Sexuality course?
- At the end of Common Meal, instead of a presentation we'd hit the lights and get down to business, it's what the early Church did, no?

In other news, my friend T. Bush has informed me that I'm the only groupie he wants. How sweet is that? I'm #1 groupie!

Judges

In Old Testament today, we began by discussing the book of Judges which covers the time period just prior to the monarchy. Nancy, the professor, wanted to make sure we had an accurate understanding of what it meant to be a judge in that context. She acknowledged how our understanding might be different given our own context by saying, "Usually when we think of judges we think of the Supremes." People nodded in understanding, but I didn't. I was too busy trying to figure out what Diana Ross has to do with an ancient text about the history of Israel. If Doug hadn't been sitting next to me and whispered, "You know, like the Supreme Court," I think I would still be thinking about Diana.

I'm going to Hildale!

I have now received numerous comments regarding the lack of new reading material on my blog, so I have decided to give a new post a try. Here's my problem: I am currently (and by currently I mean since the last time I posted, a month and a half ago maybe) of the persuasion that I don't want to post anything unless it's delightfully funny and charming, but, I have not had any inspiration in that vein. I have had some laughs this summer, but overall, it's been busy and stressful, I think that hampers my humorous creativity. I could tell you a story I heard about a narcoleptic dog, or about my talent for being inappropriate during meeting for business, but those aren't really blog material.

What I think I will tell you is that Darcy and I have decided to write a screenplay. The idea started with the kittens that live at Darcy's house. They've just learned that they like going outside, and we had the great idea that we should film a music video of the song "A Whole New World" (yes, the song from Aladdin), in which we introduce the kittens to, well, a whole new world. Of course, we couldn't leave it at just a music video, thus, the screenplay idea was born. We have been inspired by the guys who wrote Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle, just a couple of guys who had a good idea for a movie. We're not that far along yet, we don't know what the movie will be about, but we do have some ideas for a few scenes. The following may, or may not, be inspired by real life occurences.

- We'll definitely put the music video in, but of course, we'll need new actors to play the roles of "Kittens", as the present kittens will be cats by the time we get to filming
- A main character will definitely be caught by her crush talking to a cement pillar. And when I say "talking to", I mean "hitting on", a la a more ebonics version of Joey Tribbiani's, "How you doin'?"
- We might as well throw the narcoleptic dog in, now that I think about it
- There will be a peripheral character that is considered a friend, but at the same time makes people uncomfortable, particularly when he/she hugs with his/her pelvis too close
- As it seems to be a theme in, um, "people's" lives of late, I think a bit of unrequited love, from a distance of countries and continents will be highlighted. After all, that's compelling and might be the source of the clip they show at the Oscars when the film is up for "Best Picture".
- Lastly, I'd like to describe another peripheral friend character. He is a pretty cool guy, good-looking and funny-looking simultaneously, a bit awkward at times and can be a little inappropriate, but despite these attributes, has an incredible inner confidence. He's the kind of guy who brings a handle of hard liquor to a wine party, and then unabashedly works on the handle all evening so that it doesn't go to waste. I'm thinking Vince Vaughn would be the actor to capture him sufficiently.

So, my creativity is waning, but luckily I have these great ideas written down here so that I don't forget them. We'll have a finished product soon, and I promise you'll all receive invitations to the premiere. It will be held in the little town of Hildale in southern Utah. Why Hildale you ask? Because, I respond, that place deserves to be put on the map for something more positive than a hotbed of Warren Jeffs' followers. I haven't actually been there, but I hear the scenery is delightful.

Oh for the love of hockey!

I'm not sure I have the words to describe how wonderful the game of ice hockey is. Sure, part of the game plan is hitting the other guy as hard as you can to take him out of play for a few seconds, and it's really expensive so it's primarily upper-middle and upper class white guys out there playing (though women are moving up, so there is that), and the players' bench after a game is a revolting cess pool of spit and snot rockets. All that said, it's still brilliant.

My favorite team, as many of you may know, is the Detroit Red Wings. I love them. One of the things on my lifetime to-do list is to see them play at the Joe in Detroit, that would be awesome. If for some odd reason I end up rich and/or well-connected, we'll make that a playoff game at the Joe. Like any relationship, we have our ups an downs. They've had a hard time since 2002, the last time they won the Stanley Cup. "The winningest coach in history," Scotty Bowman, retired after that season so I think that's why. They had a good season this year, but fell in the first round of the playoffs, that made me sad. I'm happy to say that the Carolina Hurricanes have lifted my spirits since that first round depression. They lost to Detroit in the 2002 finals, it was a really good series and I've liked the Canes as a team since. They've also acquired two new faces since then that make them that much more enjoyable. Commodore who got traded from Calgary is just pretty damn cool, and cutie-pie playmaker Eric Staal, Staal, he's so hot right now, Staal (Zoolander? anyone?), is candy for the eyes (see above), as well as a damn good player. Carolina is currently battling Buffalo for the Eastern Conference title, and the series is tied 2-2. They creamed Buffalo last night, 4-0, it was great.

As I said above, I'm not sure I'm enough of a poet to describe just how great the game is, but watching the playoffs, I've managed to come up with my top ten reasons why hockey is so great, especially come playoff time.

10. During the playoffs, there is a game on TV just about every day, what a wonderful excuse for not getting things done.
9. The player interviews. A large percentage of the NHL is Canadian and listening to them talk aboot the game of hockey is so much fun, eh.
8. The road to the Cup is about endurance and who wants it the most. What's better than watching a team up by three still fighting for every face off and winning the battles along the boards? Not a lot my friend, trust me.
7. Another point on endurance, how great is it when a playoff game goes to five periods and the players are practically falling over they're so tired, but it's still a great game cuz they all want it? Good times.
6. Hockey is a FAST sport. There's no watching out of the corner of your eye while you do something else. It's an all or nothing sport, for the players and the fans. Sweet.
5. Game 3 of a playoff series. If you follow hockey, you know that this is THE game, the turning point where the intensity heats up, the players start to push each others' buttons, and the game becomes ten times better and more exciting than it already was.
4. The new rule changes this year. They did good. My personal favorite is the shoot-out at the end of a tie game. Why didn't anyone think of this sooner?
3. Those three back-to-back-to-back shots that the goalie miraculously saves. How did he do that? It's almost superhuman. Almost.
2. Na-nananana-na, HEY!, na-nana-na (Do other sports have this cheer? I don't know, but it's a fun one, at least when you're team is winning.) Hockey fans are pretty cool (for proof, see previous post.....er.....I mean, ignore previous post!).
1. During the playoffs, most games have that pivotal 10 minutes of frantic skating, huge hits, the quickest line changes you've ever seen, and shots on goal from every angle and out of nowhere. This 10 minutes explains why your quads hurt the next day cuz you leaped up and out of your seat so much, it was like doing squats.

So there it is, some of my favorite things about the game of hockey. If you are already a fan, I hope I filled you with that warm glow, and if you're not, I hope you at least got a little excited by my description of playoff hockey.