My Uh-Duh! Moment

Remember Oprah? You know, the one-woman media magnate who revitalized Chicago’s West Loop, gave audience members cars, did Stedman and maybe Gayle, got people reading again, is responsible for unleashing the hackfests that are Drs. Phil & Oz and Suze Orman, and who empowered millions of upper-middle class women the world over? Yep, that Oprah–the one and only.

During her media tenure, Oprah had several positive, love thyself phrases that were seen as avenues her fans could travel in order to live better lives. (Nothing wrong with trying to better one’s life, of course.) One was the whole “Remembering Your Spirit” vignettes that were popular in the early aughts, and one of the last ones was “Aha! Moments.” Basically, Aha! Moments are similar to “Come to Jesus” moments or EPIPHANIES as they are known to us non-religious folks. Some person (usually a woman) figures out somewhere along the line that her life is more than a dress size, her baby-making abilities and by being a dutiful daughter/sister/niece/wife/aunt, etc.

Oprah’s magazine and tee vee show featured mainly the Aha! Moments of famous folks, who have all the money ever but decided it’s necessary to give back to us serfs. Most efforts are to be applauded because, dammit, they should be giving back. Some of these moments are just famous folks engaging in navel gazing and that’s just boring as all hell.

I’ve had a few Aha! Moments in my life. (this ain’t one, but the vid still works)

One moment urged me to go to school in Southern California, then another brought me back to finish my studies in Madison. Oh, then there was the engagement that ended badly in my 20s…then the switching of careers and moving back to the Midwest….yeah.

What else? Yes, getting a master’s degree which lead to me getting my ass kicked in a new, but fab, career. Super fun!

Most of my Aha! Moments have been good for my soul, but then there are those that kicked the ever-lovin’ crap outta me, watched me crumble, then came back and kicked me AGAIN just for shits and giggles. I’ve realized since that life is one, big, fat, steaming pile of chunk-filled Aha! Moments. The trick is learning how to handle them with grace, humor and a pair of handwraps, boxing gloves and a heavy bag.

Now that I’ve got THAT figured out, onto what Uh-Duh! Moments are. Simply, Uh-Duh! Moments are “what the hell did I just do?” moments. I’ve had a shitload of them in my life and it’s safe to say that MOST of those moments have occurred in the past couple of years. I’m not exactly proud of these “oops” either, but I figured I’d share them here so y’all can either point & mock, or nod your heads, sigh and utter ‘Yeah, I’ve done that too, Julia.”

The first one involves honey.

This particular Uh-Duh! Moment made me realize that I truly hate honey. Loathe it actually. I think it’s disgusting and tastes like what I imagine rancid bee sweat mixed with bee urine tastes like. I’ve given it my all–tried to develop a taste for it by serving it on toast, in my tea, my oatmeal, and I even used it in my hair–what the fuck for–I don’t know. Well, I thought I’d be the bigger person and give it one more shot.

This time, I used it on my face because the woman who waxes me (shut UP) said it made a great facial mask because it was all natural and has some sort of healing qualities. Ok, ok, I said to her as she was putting wax on places that don’t normally need wax (ahem), I’ll give it a try. Again.

So, a couple of nights ago, I had a couple of gals over for a semi-nude slumber party and we decided to try the honey facial mask treatment. We each put our hair in pigtails, giggled A LOT, slipped into our silk camis, Hello Kitty! tap pants, and our Uggs, and then slathered our mugs in warm honey.

Then, we left it there for about 15 minutes and during that time, chose teams for the midnight pillow fight (my team won, natch). After rinsing the golden ooze from my face and hair, I kept waiting for the healing qualities to happen. Five minutes went by–nothing. Fifteen, 20, 25–still nothing. At thirty minutes, my skin was starting to tighten and darken like the skin on one of Ed Gein’s lampshades. Feeling the anger starting to rise and my feet starting to sweat in my Uggs, I slathered my face in uber-hydrating moisturizer, and kicked my Uggs off. After a brief tickle fight with the gals, I tossed the bottle of honey in the trash.

The following morning while I was cleaning up post-semi nude slumber party, I wondered why I had given honey another chance–I hated it years ago–how was that going to change now?

Hmm…maybe it’s not only a Ah-Duh! Moment, it’s an I’m frickin’ stupid moment too.

Piggies, guns & honey

The other evening, I had dinner with an old editing pal, Darrin. We went to this great place in Echo Park called Mohawk Bend–a former movie theater turned eatery–which features a menu of locally grown ingredients, as well as a bar stocked with local brews and other spirits like organic rum. The food was quite good, the crowd was a hipster parade (I counted about 15 men who were wearing porkpie hats and long scarves), and the conversation was top-notch–as it always is with Mr. Navarro. When it was time for dessert, one of the choices featured honey as an ingredient, and we were curious as to why honey isn’t considered vegan. Now, I admit I don’t know much about honey because it’s not something I seek out when cooking, well, anything. Simply, I can live without it. What I’m hoping for is that someone will do the heavy lifting for me because I’m too lazy to look it up myself.

Onward and upward.

For the past few days, I’ve been in Los Angeles researching my book and checking out the job scene. Plus, I’ve been catching up with old pals and writing. It’s been a successful trip so far that is helping me to gain perspective on my life. Some visits have been more emotional than others, but that’s good. The emotions help me to narrow my focus, and think about what it is I truly want out of this life. It will be an interesting ride. Stay tuned.

Since I’ve been galavanting around LA, I haven’t been paying that close attention to the news. Fortunately, due to a head cold and cruddy weather, today was a catch-up day. Looks like I’ve missed some good stuff–well, lots of good stuff.

Like this lil’ nugget. From TPM/CBS News.

Birther Oathkeeper Convicted In Attempted

Courthouse Takeover

Again with this birther crap? This is SO last year, not to mention SO boring, SO proven that Obama is ‘murican, and SO racist. Before any of you birthers out there start in with the “I’m not racist” party line, here’s your pre-emptive “SHUTTIE!” Yes, you CAN be a racist minus the white hoods and burning crosses. Words and actions are just as hate-filled as those silly white costumes.

Continue please…

“Georgia birther and Oathkeeper Darren Huff was convicted Tuesday of attempting to take over a Tennessee courthouse and conduct citizen’s arrests on officials.” 

This happened in the South? Quelle surprise! I am shocked, SHOCKED to learn this type of behavior happens south of the Mason-Dixon.

As always, there’s more.

“After a week-long trial, a jury convicted Huff of knowingly carrying a firearm in interstate commerce with the intent to use it in a civil disorder, but acquitted him of using a firearm in relation to another felony, CBS News reports.

The decision came after the jury announced last night that it was hung.

Huff will be sentenced in February. He faces up to five years in prison.”

They should add another five years for being a complete dickhead, with really bad chin pubes.

Darren Huff

 “The case dates back to April 2010 when Huff, carrying a Colt .45 and an AK-47, went to Tennessee to conduct citizens’ arrests on officials. Huff, a member of the Oath Keepers, said he going to support Walter Francis Fitzpatrick, a leader of the birther and Patriot group American Grand Jury, who was arrested for trying to perform a citizen’s arrest on a Grand Jury foreman. Fitzpatrick was angry that court officials didn’t let him pursue a Grand Jury trial against “illegal alien, infiltrator and impostor” President Obama, and other “domestic enemies.”

I’m gonna let that graph speak for itself. I can’t top this man’s ridiculous behavior with any type of additional commentary.

As for the following, I will comment–with pleasure.

“In his trial last week, Huff teared up on the stand when he said: “my government has called me a potential domestic terrorist.”

“It’s hard to get employment when you’re under federal indictment,” Huff also said. ‘I refuse to be intimidated. All I can do is still have a voice.’ “

Ok, you half-wit hayseed, when you bring a couple of loaded weapons into a court house and threaten civic officials, including the POTUS, you are a domestic terrorist AND on the same level as Timothy McVeigh. Yes, that guy. The difference is, you’re even more of a moron that McVeigh was and the Feds are paying better attention to idiot folks with guns who want to kill the President and fellow citizens.

As for the unable to get employment because of that pesky federal indictment quip … is it not obvious enough or should I comment on it?

Time to move on and not a moment too soon because the above story was starting to depress the crap out of me.

I’m hoping the popularity of reality tee vee shows is coming to an end because the latest crop of shows just proves that Hollywood is in dire need of something new that doesn’t star anything Kardashian, or involve has-been celebs doing anything whilst exposing flesh. I happened across these two shows recently, and had to force myself to watch an episode of each one just to prove that I wasn’t in some sort of drug-induced state. Someone actually thought these shows were a good idea, and what’s even scarier is someone is getting paid a lot of money to think up such shows. I’m still not clear as to why someone thought it was a good idea to base a show around killing wild boars. Or a show about catching fish with your hands and feet. Sure, boars can be dangerous, but like any other wild animal, if you keep your distance and not fuck with them, they’ll leave you alone.

Making a show about a family of boar hunters is definitely scraping the bottom of the reality show barrel. Now, a show about a family of boor hunters, well, I’d watch that.