My TiVo Hates Me

Published February 23, 2012 by monicastangledweb

Late last night, while I was typing away at my computer, and Henry, my Cavalier King Charles Spaniel, lay cozily napping on my bed, I heard a voice whisper loudly,

“Hey, Monica!”

I looked up. No one was there. I resumed typing.

“Psst. Monica. Over HERE!”

Again I turn around. Henry opened one eye.

“Henry, was that you?” I asked.

He shook his head and fell back asleep.

“Psst, behind you!”

Looking around the other way, I noticed the sound was coming from the vicinity of the TV.

TiVo? What are you doing on at this hour? I haven’t watched you in days!”

“Days? More like weeks. I’m getting overloaded here. I’m going to pop a cable if you don’t start watching your shows soon. I can’t keep saving everything, you know. Something’s gotta give if you’re not going to watch, and I’m afraid it’s going to be me.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” I respond. “Cut me some slack. I’ve just been so busy with my writing.”

“How do you think I feel? You used to love me and watch me all the time! Now, you only have eyes for that thing.” TiVo shrugs and aims it remote at my computer.

“One of these days I’ll get to you.”

“One of these days? How about now? Parks and Recreation isn’t going to stay around forever, and besides, don’t you want to know if Leslie Knope wins the election? And, Revenge may be a dish best served cold, but not that cold.”

“And what about me?” came another voice from within the TiVo box.

“Who’s that?” I asked.

“Oh, that’s Brian Williams,” TiVo responds.  “He’s getting a chip on his shoulder and is feeling snubbed. Wolf Blitzer isn’t too happy either, and, believe me, you don’t want to get him mad. I’m running out of excuses for you.”

“What do you mean? What have you been telling them?”

“First I told them that you were on vacation.”

“Where did you say I went?”

“Atlantic City. I loved that show, Boardwalk Empire.”

“TiVo, what did you say I was doing there? Going on some sort of Prohibition run?”

“Hmm…I hadn’t thought of that. Well, after a while they stopped believing it, so I said you were being held in North Korea where you were being forced to serve as a propaganda mouthpiece for Kim Jong-Il.”

“Did you get that idea from a 30 Rock episode in which Jack’s wife, Avery, was kidnapped and being held by the government?”

“Well, maybe. That’s on your season pass, is it not?”

“Touché. Anyway, TiVo, have you gotten around to telling them the truth? That I’m busy with my writing?”

“No, I didn’t want to hurt their feelings. I might have said that you went off to Afghanistan and were hunting for Osama Bin Laden.

“TiVo, the Navy Seals got him a year ago.”

“Tell me something I don’t know. Remember you made me record that CNN coverage? You never did watch, but I did.”

“That’s because I ended up getting all my information from Twitter.”

“There you go again. Always with the computer or social media.”

“So, TiVo, what excuse are you giving them these days?”

“That you left for Antarctica to save the polar bears from extinction.”

“What??”

“Yeah, I saw that on an episode of National Geographic.”

“TiVo, for crying out loud! Look, I’m on deadline. I’ve got to get back to my writing.”

“Sure, be that way.”

“I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“Okay, but no guarantees as to what you’ll find on your “Now Playing” list when you do return. I may just start recording my own recommendations and deleting yours.”

“So, how can I make it up to you?”

“Start watching and ease my load! Oh, and you can tell that dog of yours not to stare at me whenever I’m talking. Gives me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Henry? He doesn’t stare at you.”

“He does whenever he sees a dog in a commercial. Then he barks like a coyote at a full moon.”

“Ignore it. Just, go back and tell Brian, Wolf and all the others, the truth about why I haven’t been watching.”

“I think I’ll tell them you’ve just left for Spain to run with the bulls.”

“Excuse me, TiVo? What show did you see that on?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Goodnight, TiVo.”

“Chaio, bella.”

“Let me guess. Roman Holiday on TCM?”

“No, Lady and the Tramp on in-demand.”

So tell me, readers, do you have a DVR that’s overloaded and giving you grief? How do you manage your television viewing?

A Gaggle of Books & Films

Published February 20, 2012 by monicastangledweb

Must read. Must watch movies. As many know, I’m in the Fifty Fifty challenge, which is why I must do both!

MOVIES: Now, as far as movies go, I’ve only seen three this month (last month I saw eight): The Descendants, which still has me wondering, why would anyone cheat on George Clooney? Inside Daisy Clover, starring a stellar cast that includes Natalie Wood, Robert Redford, Christopher Plummer, and a plucky Ruth Gordon. But this 1965 film is such a sad movie about Hollywood in its early days–when actors were under contracts and had to uphold a moral code set by the big studios–that touches upon themes of addiction, mental illness and homosexuality.

Whitney Houston as Rachel Marron in The Bodyguard.

The third film I’ve seen this month is The Bodyguard. When I learned of Whitney Houston’s passing on February 11th, I felt compelled to watch this film once more. I hadn’t seen it in years, but I remember loving this film and especially, the music. For, Whitney’s music in this film helped me through my divorce. It was inspiring to me then, and this time around, I found it all the more poignant. And though The Bodyguard has a happy ending, knowing what we know now, makes it bittersweet, as in the end, no one could save Whitney from herself. Except, maybe, if Kevin Costner, who gave an incredibly moving eulogy at her funeral on Saturday, had still been her bodyguard.  If Whitney’s music touched you in any way, please be sure to check out my Huffington Post story on how her music made a difference in my life.

BOOKS:

In January I read three books. So far, in February, I’ve read two. The verdict is still out whether I’m going to make the 50-mark, but, thankfully, I still have about eight months to go.  Here are the two books that I’ve read so far:

The Weed That Strings the Hangman’s Bag by Alan Bradley – This is a Flavia de Luce mystery, and it’s like reading a sophisticated Nancy Drew mystery, set in the quaint English countryside in the middle of the last century. Flavia is so nifty and knowing. She’s 12 years old and probably the smartest person in her village, cleverer than even the chief of police.

Mothers, Daughters, and Other Mysteries by Heather McPhaul – Fellow blogger and stunt woman extraordinaire, also known in some circles as Aging Gal, is a total hoot. She tells it like it is and makes the mundane seem hilarious. I discovered Heather when she was Freshly Pressed in March, 2011. Her post, about planning to one day retire to prison, where all her expenses will be covered–by taxpayers–and health care is free, still remains one of my favorites. It had me laughing so hard, I cried.

Her novel, Mothers, Daughters, and Other Mysteries, is about a young woman, Leeann Conklin who, at a crossroads in her life, decides to start her own detective agency in NYC. Leeann has issues with her mom, Ava Gerard, a diva-type who pops in for a surprise visit when she’s in town for the Daytime Emmy Awards. Of course, this all happens just when Leeann gets her first detective gig. Ava joins in the mayhem that ensues, coming up with a few crafty disguises to help solve the crime.

I like supporting my fellow bloggers when I can, and I hope you will, too, by reading Heather’s book. It’s a fun, easy read!

And speaking of books, I’m excited that, later this week, I’m going to meet best-selling author Jennifer Niven, whose book, Velva Jean Learns to Fly, will be featured at a special event hosted by Adventures By the Book. Now, I just adore Adventures By the Book events, because they’re not just your run-of-the-mill author book signings–they’re an experience! And, for this one, where the theme is all about flying, we’re going to be taking a tour of the San Diego Air & Space Museum. Now, Velva Jean Learns to Fly happens to be a sequel to Velva Jean Learns to Drive, and I’m thinking I ought to read these books in order. Wouldn’t you agree?

So, dear readers, what movies have you seen lately? What books are you reading? Inquiring minds just have to know!

One Shot, Two Stories a Success!

Published February 16, 2012 by monicastangledweb

The One Shot, Two Stories challenge was a success! Thank you so much to all of you who came through with flying colors, and added your line to the story. We so appreciate you taking the time to put in your two cents! It sure was fun and exhilarating to read each new sentence!

When Bella and I first started planning this, we had no idea how the stories would turn out. I have to say, our contributors are very clever and creative, with all the plot twists and turns. Like being on a roller coaster ride. And, somehow both stories came together, as characters that started on Bella’s post, appeared in mine.

I hope you liked participating as much as we did, and would love to know what you thought of it all. Even those of you who didn’t take part, we’d like to get your input, too.

As I read Bella’s, I almost fell on the floor laughing.  It’s so good, I wouldn’t be surprised if a producer comes along and wants to buy the rights to make a movie. Don’t believe me? Well, you can read the entire story below. Be sure to visit Bella’s blog, One Sister’s Rant, to read the story that was concocted on my post. Enjoy!

Olivia looked at the sprawled cat on the bench; the same bench where Ethan had proposed ten years ago. She wondered what Ethan would look like today if he was still alive. His death was still a mystery no one could solve…

The horror of it all flashed into her mind and falling on her knees, she wept forlorn by all the unanswered questions. The cat raised its head and looked at her. She smiled sadly as she remembered how when she had left for her morning walk just a year ago, Ethan had been sprawled across their bed much like the cat – except Ethan was snoring.

She started to sob again as she recalled the mounting fear she felt when she approached their driveway and saw that it was filled with police cars. Immediately, she knew Lucinda had something to do with Ethan’s death.

With adrenaline as her new best friend, she quickly packed an overnight bag, climbed into her beloved Ford F150 and sped off. She had to go back one more time to where it had all started, hoping against hope that it would help shed light on what had happened. She was shaking as she drove through the Vermont countryside, the trees a green blur, miles rolling out the truck’s worn out tires.

Gradually, coming to her senses, she slowed down, realizing that none of this would bring him back, and that, now, it was up to her and the cat to carry on the chicken plucking business he’d started and that she would have to learn. But no, she’d always hated that business and knew the only reason Ethan had taken it over was because it had been his father’s last wish. Tired and resentful, he had carried on, but with one eye always looking for ‘the big break’.

She continued on her journey to Vermont, hoping Ethan’s grandmother would be at home and maybe this time, answer her questions about that night. Ethan’s grandmother, Dottie, answered her door on the second sounding of the weathered brass knocker, her stark white hair framing a care-worn face from which bright blue eyes widened with surprise.

Realizing with a sudden jerk that her thoughts had actually been hovering around the house with police cars all over the place and red tapes to seal of the scene…She mentally shook herself to remind herself of why she was here.

Dottie’s house smelled like just-baked chocolate chip cookies and she felt the tears well up in her eyes as she remembered they were Ethan’s favorite. “Well, it’s about time,” said Dottie as soon as she saw Olivia, wondering if she’d finally come to hear the truth, and whether she was ready to tell it. “I’m sorry it took me so long, Dottie,” she said brokenly, tears trickling down her cheeks. “You look so beautiful despite the dark circles around your eyes, Olivia.” said Dottie. “Have a slice of chocolate chip pie,” Dottie urged, scooping up a heaping serving of the fudge-y, chocolate goodness and topping it off with a generous dollop of homemade vanilla custard.

Olivia eyeballed her, began counting up the calories in her head and blasted Dottie with, “You jealous heifer, trying to pack pounds on me so I won’t get back in my prom dress for the class reunion coming up.” Of course, all that was in her head, and what she really said was, “No, thank you, Dot, I’ve come about Ethan, for it’s time you tell me the truth of how he found that locket.” The same locket, which Ryan had given me on my 18th birthday, and proposed his undying and true love to me. “Locket? I have no idea what you are talking about, Olivia!” said Dottie. But now that you’re here, I may as well tell you that I know you used chocolate to cover up the smell of poison you mixed in with the flour in those cookies you used to make Ethan; that you meant to poison him because you thought he was cheating on you! You must’ve snickered at your cleverness!

Tears streaming down her face, Olivia screamed at Dottie, “Even though Ryan loved me, Ethan was the one I loved and I would never have hurt him!” Dottie tired of the drama, the endless stream of tears picked up the ashtray on the table to her left thinking of chucking it at her friend, but remembered the secret.

As she picked it up she realized that It wasn’t just the secret that triggered her memory, but also the folded sticky note attached to the bottom of the ashtray. Dottie quickly tried to change the subject and Olivia’s mood in a clever way …

A long silence stretched taught between them, as Olivia was overcome with the onslaught of bittersweet memories; Ryan’s loping walk, his windswept hair, shy, and oh so sweet, dimpled smiles and loving eyes. Eyes filled with a secret love…all for her.

Memories of Ethan also invaded her mind–his strong chin, the way he tucked her hair behind her ear, his crooked grin–but these were interrupted as the post it dropped to the floor. Olivia snatched up the post-it note and read it quickly before Dottie’s bony fingers grasped her arm tightly, forcing the note to flutter to the floor…she didn’t notice it float it’s way under the table.

One person did and had already started scheming how to gain from it all “ONE PERSON’S PAIN, ANOTHER ONE’S…”.

As she entered the room Sylvia quipped happily, “Hi dearie”. She had to get that note…Olivia stared at Dottie in complete and utter shock, not understanding how she could have missed all the signs. “Where did SHE come from??” Olivia exclaimed. “She was here all along waiting for you” – Dottie said with the hiss in her voice.

Olivia looked at Lucinda, or Sylvia, as she insisted she be called now, and knew her suspicions where next to confirmed–Lucinda had to be involved in Ethan’s murder and Ryan’s disappearance! She had come a long way to worry about the numerous name changes – Sly, Sylvia, Lucinda; she was still her number one suspect no matter what name she used. “You know Ethan gave you the moniker Sly for a reason, right?” she said without giving it a thought.

Of course it was Sly. And then she wondered how she could have possibly suspected Dottie and her chocolate. Dottie was Ethan’s grandmother, after all. Or was she?

“I’ll take that pie, after all, Dot.”

But she couldn’t eat .. she was here for a reason and she was determined to find out even if it meant dealing with the woman she now despised even more .

She got up , took a step towards Lucinda and ..…vowed to get revenge for her one true love, even if it meant both their deaths. But just as Olivia was going to grab Lucinda by the hair, Lucinda pulled a gun from her pocket and said, “Take one more step and I shoot Dottie.”“

As long as I can keep eating this cake,” Olivia said, grabbing another piece. “This is delicious, Dot.” “And besides, would you really shoot your own mother, Lucinda?” Olivia asked calmly, seeing if her nemesis would take the bait.

Dottie nodded, then said, “Olivia, if you still love Ryan, you should know that he’s here, in the other room and he remembers everything. In fact, he’s been asking for you.”

“Not if I can help it!” Lucinda screamed but just then, Ryan stormed into the room, grabbed Lucinda and yelled, “Grandma, call the police!”

As Olivia looked into Ryan’s eyes, she knew she had loved him all along and that Ethan had been an infatuation. Lucinda, forever envious, had killed him in a fit of jealous rage.

Except that Lucinda had been in Hawaii at the time of Ethan’s disappearance. Olivia took a step back from Lucinda and Ryan, feigning happiness as she fingered her phone in her pocket.

“Cut! Cut!” Quentin Tarantino yells on the set.

“People, I know we’re improvising here, but enough twists and turns! Dottie, take the gun and shoot everyone and let’s call it a day!”

One Shot, Two Stories

Published February 12, 2012 by monicastangledweb

Just in time for Valentine’s Day, Monica’s Tangled Web and One Sister’s Rant are joining together to tell two stories, using one photograph.

We’re each posting the same snapshot (courtesy of Keoni Cabral, my friend and photographer extraordinaire) and we’re each writing a different first line. And here’s where you come in.

Readers, we want you to continue the story. Add one sentence to further the plot along and, before you know it, we’ll have one photograph with, what should prove to be, two very distinctive stories.

At the end of the week—or maybe next—we’ll post both stories in their entirety. I’ll post One Sister’s Rant story and you’ll need to head over to Bella’s blog to check out Monica’s Tangled Web story. Won’t that be cool??

This fun exercise is the brainchild of  Cathy Kozak, from While the Dervish Dances. Here are her instructions:

  1. Visit the comment section.
  2. Check your place in the story by reading others’ comments first, each of which will contain a sentence.
  3. Be sure to number your comment and add a sentence of your own that propels the story forward. Make sure you read the comments/sentences others have left before yours, to ensure a logical link.

We encourage you to contribute to the story here and to the story on One Sister’s Rant. Contribute as often as you like!

Tell your friends to contribute, too! Tweet, Facebook or post to whatever social media tool you have. We want this to be as long and involved and as fun as possible–and we can’t do it without you, so spread the news!

Bella and I can’t wait to see what, collectively, we all come up with. Without further ado, on your mark, get set—GO!

The First Sentence:

1. On a misty February morning, barely a week before Valentine’s Day, Charlie opened the back door to let the cat out, then boarded his jeep and drove away.

Your turn!

A 200-Year-Old Man Gives Dickens of an Interview

Published February 10, 2012 by monicastangledweb

I scored the coup of the century. Make that TWO centuries! Charles Dickens, author extraordinaire, just turned 200 this week, and in honor of the milestone, I recently had the pleasure of sitting down with him for a rare, one-on-one interview.

MTW: Mr. Dickens, everyone’s talking about your 200th birthday. What’s your secret to enduring for so long?

CD: Plenty of rest. For, it is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest, than I have ever known.

MTW: Ahem, okay. So, you’ve enjoyed your rest. Well, how does it feel to be revered, so long after your death?

CD: Any man may be in good spirits and good temper when he’s well dressed.

MTW: I’ll grant you that. I suppose it’s been uncomfortable, though, lying in a narrow wooden box all these years. I expect being on the outside must be like a breath of fresh air.

CD: Minds, like bodies, will often fall into a pimpled, ill-conditioned state from mere excess of comfort.

MTW: So, are you saying you’ve been comfortable in there or you’re glad to be out of it?

CD: Reflect on your present blessings, of which every man has many; not on your past misfortunes, of which all men have some.

MTW: Mr. Dickens, you should know that, as lovely as it sounds, we no longer use such proper English. Mass media has gotten the better of us so, you may want to take it down a notch. Capiche?

CD: It pains me to hear that. For, I do not know the American gentleman, God forgive me for putting two such words together.

MTW: No worries. You’re forgiven. So, which of your books would you say is your favorite? Based on the number of remakes, I’d say A Christmas Carol is one of your more popular today.

CD: I despise that one. Too common. Besides, Tiny Tim was not easy to capture on paper. In real life, you know, the lad was a bit of a brat.

MTW: I don’t think that’s common knowledge.

CD: Nasty child, that one. Burped a lot and thought it was funny. Imagine. Who would see the humor in that? No, definitely not one of my best. Though I rather did enjoy Bill Murray’s cinematic version, Scrooged. Rather a brilliant take, wouldn’t you say?

MTW: Yes, but I didn’t think you had seen any of the film versions of your books, considering movies weren’t around in your day.

CD: I’ve seen them all. There’s the Muppet, Mister Magoo and Scrooge McDuck versions. George C. Scott and Reginald Owen, too. I spin in my grave every time a new one is released. Which reminds me, may I use your cell? I need to call my agent.

MTW: Is he still around? Frankly, I didn’t realize authors had agents back when you were writing.

CD: The movie deal he obtained for me was appalling. And, frankly, he did not foresee either the invention of television or the Internet. And the toy industry? Talk about a missed opportunity! Think how popular a Miss Havisham doll could have been with designer wedding dresses made by Vera Wang or Valentina.

MTW: Yes, I can see how such a doll would sell on eBay for quite a penny.

CD:  And don’t get me started on Amazon. I hate that nearly all my books are free on Kindle. Copyright, be damned! I don’t care what the lawyers say, those stories are still mine! They’re priceless! David Copperfield alone ought to be worth two quid.

One of my favorite stories by Charles Dickens.

MTW: Ahem, Mr. Dickens, it’s euros now.

CD: Euros? What the damn devil is that?

MTW: Never mind. Let’s change the subject. Tell me what inspired you to write, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”

CD: Funny how that happened. I couldn’t make up my mind is all, plain and simple. Was it the best of times? Probably not. Sheer luck is what it was. Sheer, unadulterated luck!

MTW: Well, I guess it’s true then. Some of the best lines happen quite by accident.

CD: And some of the best characters, too. You’re familiar with Jo March in Little Women? Well, she was based on me. Louisa May Alcott said I inspired her.

MTW: No, I did not know that.

CD: Indeed I did. Louisa always said I had spunk and I told her she should write a character with spunk and name it after me.

MTW: How is Jo March named after you?

CD: Well, I didn’t say she listened, did I? Nice woman, that Miss Alcott was. Though, stubborn as a mule and couldn’t sing to save her life.

MTW: Well, Mr. Dickens, it appears we’ve run out of time. Any parting thoughts?

CD: Yes. Where’s my birthday cake? After 200 years, don’t you think I deserve one? Preferably, chocolate, with ice cream, too.

MTW: I do apologize but I didn’t think to bring cake.

CD: Well, that’s just like an American, isn’t it? See if I return in 200 years!

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