Frackin' Awesome Sidebar:

Dude! Luther Reigns -- he of the lovely legs and astonishingly perfect proportion for such a big WWE-type -- was just on Heroes! Did I happen to mention that I love that show? It's the only regular TV program for which I'll actually turn on the tube.

If possible, I love it even more now. God, I hope his is a recurring part. The bartender for a Star Wars cantina-like gathering place for "specials"?

I can totally see that coming back around. *crosses fingers*

Dear Charlie:

Okay, so I took two much-needed days off work to run to the hometown. First things first, I...*swallows hard*...cut my hair.

Yes, I know. It's stupid to get worked up over something as dumb as whether or not to cut my hair when I so rarely care what it looks like at all, but...it's just so long. And I like it long. No one ever says, "Oh, your hair's so cute!" when it's long. When it's short? Yeah. ALL the time.

So, I haven't cut it more than to trim off the bad ends in probably three years. Give or take. It was just a few inches shy of the waist of my jeans when I straightened it.

I didn't cut it completely, though. It's still juuuuust past my shoulders. Not nearly as short as I usually cut it when I get the weird urge to do so. I asked Uwana -- the only person I trust to cut my hair after a reeeeeally bad experience in college -- to cut it back to the healthy hair, then trim off a little more when it was a weird mid-length. In all? Over eight inches hit the floor. Maybe ten. I honestly don't know. I refused to look when she was done.

Heh.

But I like the new cut, and since it's basically a simple blunt cut -- though there's a bit of shaping that's nice -- it'll grow out easily whenever I want. That's all that really matters. Plus, it looks much healthier -- shiny all the way to the ends and without that kind of ragged, thinned-out look. Definitely better.

I will most likely change my mind the first time someone says its CUTE.

Anyway, then I went by Kristi's house to congratulate her on her incipient identical twins -- this is the same practically-family friend who had fraternal twins just three-ish years back -- and enjoy a weenie roast. The current twins are fricking adorable, and it was good to smooch on them a little.

Then, I hit Mom's. Her birthday is Tuesday, so I wanted to get down there for a little celebration. My beloved sister came over on Saturday, too, for the pseudo-party. I got Mom some of those nifty reed scent diffusers -- sandalwood (my favorite) and fresh linen (one of Mom's favorites) -- and Sis got her some awesome coffee. That's one of those things that they share. Coffee love.

And Mom reminded me how to crochet. Yup, crochet. It's been a long time. I couldn't remember how to do anything but chain. It didn't take long to fall back into the habit, though. Single crochet, anyway. I had to take double lessons on double crochet, because I kept forgetting the second yarn-over. Heh.

At any rate, I'd brought down a pattern for a crocheted stocking cap-type hat, and as of today, I've made three. The first two were practice -- and they're lumpy, crooked things -- but the third one is for keeps. I love it. I'm keeping it. As usual, once I got the hang of the design, I changed it for my own. I left out the middle part of the hat that I couldn't get to look like the pattern picture I'd printed out and just single crocheted a stovepipe-type striped section, instead. If I wanted, I could make a Cat in the Hat kind of hat now.

As of this moment, though, I don't want. Oi. Three hats in three days is too many. My fingers are darn near arthritic from the unaccustomed activity. Typing, I can do for hours on end. Crochet is a whole different level of finger exercise. Yeowch.

Anyway, I'm home and safe and, if not particularly looking forward to work, I'm at least willing to slouch my way in for another day. It'll do.

I guess.

Dear Charlie:

Well, it's Wednesday -- or close enough for government work -- so I think I'm far enough removed from the incident to finally talk about it. That dreadful 0-34 blowout at the Panthers.

God, it hurt to watch.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: when your punter's having a great day, the rest of the team is not. One of the few good things I can say about Sunday's game was that Dustin Colquitt was, as usual, in fine form.

But seriously. He shouldn't have to earn his paycheck quite so fully.

Like I said in a comment to The Poz's article -- I've never commented there before, but I couldn't help myself this time -- that game was like someone came up with a new reality show where they steal all the Chiefs gear, put it on a bunch of average joes, and make the Joes play a real NFL team. The winner isn't the best player, but whoever's left standing after the beating.

I think it's safe to say that Bernard Pollard and Derrick Johnson were still standing -- I remember not wincing when their names were mentioned, anyway -- and Colquitt was definitely still on his talented feet, but that's about it.

Well, Tony Gonzales achieved the last remaining tight end record he hadn't already smashed to bits, which is pretty cool, but...seriously. He only needed 2 yards to get it. And it's gotta hurt to own every tight end record available and still not have a SuperBowl ring. I can understand why he's looking elsewhere, though I'll be sorry as hell to see him go. He's a class act, so far as I know.

But between the continual juggling of the quarterbacks, the seemingly insurmountable youth of the team as a whole, and this odd laissez-faire coaching strategy from Herm Edwards that boggles my rational mind, my beloved Chiefs are sinking faster than a lead balloon in a quadruple gravity well. At some point, it's gotta stop. I know good and well from the occasional glimpse of past Arizona Cardinals games that 34-0 is not rock bottom, but it's been a damn long time since my boys sunk that low.

Let's not test the bedrock.

These young players showed heart and the building blocks of discipline against a bewildered Broncos team a week back. I know they can do it again. But Herm is gonna have to get his two fingers out of his mouth and get over being "puzzled" about his team. We're gonna have to watch those penalties and, for the love of the goalpost gods, we gotta capitalize on turnovers instead of just turning it back over.

Is there a record for how many times a ball was turned over in a single quarter? Because I think we came close. We threw it, they intercepted. They dropped it, we picked it up. We dropped it, they picked it up. Unfortunately, they scored...and we totally didn't.

Yes, it's a rebuilding year, but even rebuilding from the ground up wouldn't excuse what happened on Sunday. That was like a tune-up game from hell. We can't let it happen again. I don't care if we finish up 4-12 again, so long as we're not 1-15 because of a one-time blitzkrieg that gave us an excuse to not care about the rest of the season. It doesn't work that way.

Not if you wanna ever get out of the cellar. And I know my boys, whatever iteration they may be. My boys don't like the cellar. Even if we go one-n-done in the playoffs, we usually...ya know...go. At least a few times a decade. Anyone got stats on that?

Doesn't matter. They'll get better. They always get better. And hopefully, we'll soon say bye-bye to Herm Edwards and hello to...well...just about anyone else. But Shottenheimer.

Guh. Run, run, run, punt! Run, run, run, punt! Run, run, run, punt! Anyone see a pattern? It's called Marty Ball for a reason. Oi.

Let's...not talk about it anymore.

Go Chiefs!

Dear Charlie:

Continuing my horror movie month -- and conveniently ignoring the 34-0 shutout of my beloved Chiefs, who are surely having a worse week than I am -- I rented Poltergeist.

Now, remember when I said that scary movies terrified me and gave me nightmares when I was a kid, but I grew out of that? Well, this is one of them. I can't tell you how many times I dreamed of being eaten by a tree. How long I was afraid of storms (which I now love). Thank God I was already creeped out by clowns, or this flick and IT would have really done some damage. Heh.

But I did grow out of that terror, and now I love watching the movies that once scared me to death. And Poltergeist is one of the very few that can still affect me, if not in particularly the same way. And I think I know why. I think it's because both the mother and father actually care about their kids, would honestly do anything to see them safe.

Remember The Amityville Horror? The original one, not the rewrite? It just never worked for me. It took the remake to show me why.

In that original flick, Kathleen Lutz was more interested in saving her marriage -- her second -- than in keeping her children alive. Worse, George Lutz himself came across more as sullen and distant, even before moving into the house whose atmosphere changed and possessed him, than the much more charming (and far more sympathetic and worthy of saving) Ryan Reynolds character that came later.

It's this iffy family bond that makes the Lutz' situation falter and thus makes whatever happened to them seem...a little flat. Add in all the speculation of the "real" story, about them just wanting out of a mortgage that was too much for them and such, and there's just not much there to tingle the spine.

But in Poltergeist, both the mother and father are fully devoted to both each other and their children. When asked to walk into the unknown with no guarantee that she would either succeed or ever be able to come back, Diane simply grabs the rope and heads in. Her baby is in that nowhere, and she will by God bring her out if she can. Nothing short of the infinite will stop her.

That scene where you hear Carol Anne running from something, and she invisibly runs right through Diane, and Diane starts weeping as she realizes she can smell her baby on her clothes, on her hands...that brings a shiver even now. Not a bad shiver, though. A good one. I mean, I'm not sure Kathleen Lutz even knew what her kid looked like, let alone smelled like.

That familial connection makes everything that happens to the Freeling family that much more terrible. Because you don't want anything to happen to them. You want them to stay a happy family. You want Carol Anne to snuggle up to her mother and for Steven to put his fatherly arms around them both. You want Robbie to beat the crap out of that sadistic clown doll -- who the hell has a creepy-ass thing like that in a kid's room, anyway? -- and to spit in its strewn stuffing.

You want them to stay safe. You want them to win.

The Lutz family? Meh.

Now, in the Amityville remake, they fixed that error, and it's still not quite terrifying. But at least you care whether or not Kathleen cracks open George's head. You don't feel like he deserves it. And you believe that she'd rather save her children than spend one more night in a money-suck of a house that threatens them at every turn. And it just about breaks your heart when George yells at her to kill him before he kills all of them. He's pleading with her. He doesn't want to hurt them. He just can't help himself.

Or maybe I just like Ryan Reynolds.

Either way, it's better but still not a great. Like Poltergeist. Doesn't mean it isn't entertaining, but...I'd rather watch Carol Anne and wonder how Heather O'Rourke would have turned out if she'd lived past the age of 12. Bless her heart.

Dear Charlie:

You know, I always thought there was a finite amount of snot a humanoid's body could produce. Apparently, I was wrong.

But I've been wrong before. I admit it freely.

So, ignoring the disgusting fact of the Creeping Crud once again crapping up my nose, throat, and chest, I think I'll move on to a much more fun and less gooshy topic of conversation. Yes, I bought Iron Man. And, while pretty much anything Tony Stark says is gold, I actually think that the best line/exchange in the whole movie is thus:

Scientist: To power the suit...sir, the technology actually doesn't exist. So, it's...it's....

Stain: Wai-wait. The technology? William, here is the technology. *gestures* I've asked you to simply make it smaller.

Scientist: Okay, sir, that's what we're trying to do, but...honestly...it's impossible.

Stain: TONY STARK WAS ABLE TO BUILD THIS IN A CAVE!! WITH A BOX OF SCRAPS!!

Heheheh...God, that cracks me up. Could be all the snot.

In short, this movie is just as fun to watch on a small screen as it was on the big one. I've been through it three times already. I'll probably watch it again before going back to my more month-appropriate horror flicks.

Now if I could just talk them into putting Tropic Thunder out now instead of in December....

My Dearest Charles:

My boys won. First win in almost a year. That's all I have to say about that.

For now. Heh.

Awesome Sidebar:

Oh, my God, I just made the frickin best soup ever.

I thought I'd made The Best Soup Ever last weekend. It was beef stroganoff soup, and it was creamy and mushroomy and wonderful. I even made fresh, homemade bread bowls to serve it in. Damn good, if I do say so myself.

But this? This is better. And it doesn't have a name. I just kinda made it up.

It's almost a chowder, but not quite. It's thick and rich. Potatoes, leeks, carrots, and celery. Herbs and spices. And ham. Yeah, a little weird, I know, but I didn't want chicken or turkey. And the ham works, man. It works awesome. A little roux and a little whole milk (I wanted heavy whipping cream, but I had to stop by a gas station on the way home, and all they had was vitamin D milk). And a dollop of sour cream for that finishing touch.

And in one of the leftover bread bowls? Duuuuuuude....

I'm so stuffed that I can't even finish eating the soup-soaked bread bowl, but I don't care. It was frickin awesome. And the house smells like awesome soup. I am so eating good this weekend.

Mmmmm.....