mmm Pop! Pop! Pop Culture!

Ahhhhhhhhhh I loves the Halloween. The candy, the costuming, the candy, the costuming. It's all good, my friends. All good.

For a successful Halloween, you should always practice clean carving on your Jack O'Lantern. I chose this apron made by my cousin Elizabeth and then spent the rest of the night trying not to get anything on it because it's so wonderful. Clean all-around.

as an aside --- look at those boots! Clarks.
I have found my Grail in these fantastic shoes.

And, I'll tell you something for nothing, the new scoop we bought at the supermarket and a very special episode of The Bionic Woman (Vincent Price in dual roles! and Julie Newmar? No WAY!) really brought out the creativity in everyone.

Unfortunately the camera didn't catch the pink-orange glow of the Cinderella pumpkin.
It was very pretty.

And the brownies helped a little ... and the chili ... and the booze, okay, sure. You can't be creative with sharp knives unless you have a little booze first.

Last night was the annual Halloween party extravaganza and the theme was Pop Culture. I know! How great is that? You can be anyone! Anyone at all!

So, yeah, I went obvious and was Lady GaGa. I figured there would be more than one, but the only duplicate we had was Chip Kelly. Go figure. And some people didn't know who I was, so it brought back memories of the failed "Brandy, You're a Fine Girl" costume from the music party, although this wasn't as bad as that one was. (I even had a name tag that said "Brandy" and still no one knew who I was. Dudsville.)(I'm just sayin'... at least this year I'd say "Lady GaGa" and they'd go "Oh yeahhhhhhhhhhh" instead of "Who's that?")

Anyway, tell you what, I made most of this out of scrappy crap from The Dollar Tree and Value Village, but that GaGa is a canny wee businesswoman. Walmart was selling officially licensed GaGa Halloween product. Dude. It takes some savvy to acknowledge that you're a professional clown and then to tap into getting some seasonal cash off the image. Well done, I say. Made me proud to represent her at the party even though I don't know any of her songs. (What was I doing in Walmart? You tell me who else would have control-top fishnet stockings, okay?)

The cousin/roommate was Edward from Twilight and this camera does not do him enough justice. In fact, the flash makes him look more like Michael Myers from Halloween and I don't know what that spooky shadow is, but it also doesn't show off the fantastic glow-in-the-dark fangs, so you're not getting the full effect. I was proud of the pale makeup and the lip stain --- proud to have won the battle of the lip stain, actually. There was much resistance and it did not look like lipstick, people. It's a stain, not a stick.

Actually, I'm a little concerned about the mini Nikon. I think we've worn it out. Next year, bring the big camera ... next year bring the big camera... Still we managed to snag a few shots of fantastic costumes if somewhat less than fantastic focusing. Man, what is with the Coolpix?

This is Wuh Haecker as the Sunmaid Raisin girl. Oh my God, the sun and the bonnet still crack me up. Every year she outdoes me. Nature's candy, my friends. Raisins are Nature's candy.

This is the Octomom who kept sitting on her babies (does this happen to Nadya Suleman in real life? I wonder...) and the rapper with her low-slung pants and chains ......... oh man, I love love LOVE Halloween.

As expected, this year I've got a favorite. Ladies and gentleman, I present to you, all the way from the pages of The Bable --- the Virgin Mary!


That's Jesus behind her adjusting the sombrero/halo, which switched to blinking twinkling by the end of the night. Jesus quickly lost his scratchy beard and became I, Claudius (he was a fussy Jesus), but Mary kept her lights all night and you could always find her no matter where she was in the house. She definitely gets points for bravery and will score even higher if she follows through and wears it to her library job today.

Oh yeah, and here is the obligatory pipe photo.

Wow, the white makeup really makes my eye circles stand out. What would GaGa say?

Halloween is Coming

Think this will be too cold for a night party?

You'll laugh so hard your sides will ache your heart will go pidder pat

If you haven't clicked on the Cake Wrecks link to the right yet (why haven't you?) you're missing out on great creations like this one.


If this offends you spiritually, I completely understand. I would not want to cut into this thing either.

Unless it's layered with more of that chocolate butter cream.

cakewrecks.blogspot.com

Taking Two for the Team

Platelet Count: 27

Okay, not great, but going the right way. Small victories, people. Small victories.

Had a long talk with the doctor --- well, long-ish for him; he's not a talker --- and asked more about the progression and it's not so bad really. The existing lesions had "minimal" growth, which is tolerable, but what worried him was the new spot that showed up on the left something-or-other, which I assume is in or around my pelvis area where the MRI was looking. This is new as of August, so it's what made him decide that treatment #2 was a dud.

The PET scan was a little more troubling, but since it's a comparison to a scan in March I kind of expected that there was going to be some new stuff on it anyway. What I didn't know was that Bitey, the primary tumor, has also decided to grow again (nuts), but it's decided not to turn my skin red anymore (yay) so balance, I guess.

Balance. Balance.

Got another Zometa infusion and then took a double-shot, one on each cheek-side, of the Faslodex. If you're counting, friends, that's 4 needles. FOUR. Blood draw, Zometa, and badda-boom badda-bing.

Oddly enough, I feel pretty good this morning. Faslodex not only works on cancer but is clearing up my cold as well. God bless medical science.

A Movie Nearly Every Night: Portrait in Black

Portrait in Black (1960)
Dir. Michael Gordon
Starring: Lana Turner, Anthony Quinn, Richard Basehart, Sandra Dee

Why do you have to be so negative all the time?

This started with such great promise. Lana Turner! Anthony Quinn! Richard Basehart? No way! And Sandra Dee? AND JOHN SAXON? Is this movie made in heaven or what? And all with an awesome (and uncredited) Saul Bass (or Saul Bass inspired) opening sequence.

What? You didn't know that October is officially John Saxon Month?

So what do I do? I go and open my big mouth and I say to the cousin/roommate:

"Hey, wouldn't it be funny if the titles were the best part of the movie?"

Yeah, and it's too bad because this has the makings of a pretty decent story, and in the hands of someone like Nicholas Ray it would have probably been a masterpiece. Instead it's just kind of silly.

Lloyd about to growl out some insult/complaint/reprimand

Friends, I loves the Lloyd Nolan. He's generally good in poor pictures and he usually plays the same gruff-talking sorta fella: maybe a gangster, maybe just an honest, plain-talking small-town doctor. He leans toward "maybe a gangster" in this one and gets all the best lines, but he doesn't last very long and it's a shame because when he's gone you really miss having him around.

"You were so nice in Peyton Place, Lloyd. What's happened to you?"

He gets to push around wife Lana Turner for about 10 minutes and then he's done. But it sets the scene for the rest of the movie because while Lana is physically and mentally tormented by the treatment from husband Lloyd, she ultimately seems to enjoy or want to be pushed around by the other men in the picture. All credit for this impression is not in the script so much, which implies, but doesn't really say "I like to be pushed around," but is due to the way Russell Metty films her. He also shot Lana in Sirk's Imitation of Life the year before and also did Touch of Evil. (Yeah. Nice, huh? Thank God for some real talent on this picture)

Metty likes to light and shoot poor troubled Lana over the shoulder of the men trying to control her. First in gorgeous shadowy beigey-greens at Anthony Quinn's place...

"What? No!"

...then in black as she kittens up to Richard Basehart before he goes out for a little foul play.

"What? Yes."

And mirrors are everywhere in her house. Metty films her in reflection, which adds to her distance from the men trying to manipulate her actions.


Which works well in a rather creepy way here...

Headless Lana and Tony holding his nose.
Yes, your acting stinks in this, it's true.

Anthony Quinn is clearly the weakest link in this movie. This is bar-none the worst acting of his career. Did he read the script? Was he distracted by the lights? You sit there watching and wondering what the hell happened to the guy from La Strada? Did he think he was too good for this one? It's crazy. He shifts everywhere between overwrought and totally absent. Honestly, you've got to admire Lana for continuing to pull the cart without his assistance. I says to the cousin/roommate, I says: "It would have been better with Cesar Romero." And I don't say that lightly.

"What the hell are you wearing, darling?"

Richard Basehart, on the other hand, is fantastically slimy as the jerky jerk who takes over Lloyd's business and then tries to take over his wife. He would have been much better in Quinn's role, but then we'd lose him as the scuzzy Howard and that would have been tragedy.

Que es mas cuter: Sandra Dee or a Mercedes SL 190 convertible?

Sandra Dee is cute as a button and she and Saxon make a nice couple. They actually look like they enjoy each others' company and it's sweet. It's too bad Saxon contracted on at Universal instead of MGM or Warner's where he might have taken the Robert Wagner track. He and Sandra Dee should have definitely made a few more movies together, I think, but it was not to be. Saxon was quickly replaced by Bobby Darin or John Gavin, and was better looking and a better actor than both of them. No. Really.

The sets are sometimes good, like this Chinese restaurant, which looks dark here, but it goes from their dark booth deep into the background. They're discussing how Saxon's father was run out of business while a fan dance carries on in the distance.


And then it's just God-awful with this funeral set atop a mound of Astro Turf with a clearly painted backdrop complete with painted people behind the actors. Add in fake rain and you've got a scene worthy of My Name is Khan.


Although I do admire the strange artwork they chose for the walls. This is Quinn's apartment --- the doctor raised up from his poor beginnings, the son of "Napa Valley fruit pickers". It's modern, kind of crappy, but with this great Dali-esque painting of a uvula dreamscape in the center.

Fur is murder -- whoops! spoiler

So, not entirely recommended unless you're high on cough medicine and have nothing else to do for the day.

Oh, wait! I was wrong. The titles were not the best part of the movie.

Two reasons to watch: Anna May Wong and Raja

The Siamese cat was the best part of the movie. He's even better than the cat in Mrs. Miniver and that animal could act.

She's gotta feed the monkey, man

Back from Vegas. What did I win? The flu. Yayyyyyyyyyy.

That's what I get for gambling a single $20 bill. That's it. That's all I had time for. 20 bucks. And, I'll let you in on a little secret ---- it was from my per diem. Shandich. I know. But I doubled it on Dean Martin's Dance Party and there was much rejoicing.

Then I got sick n' stuff and spent the rest of the week holding my head, throwing up and trying to stay awake, which, in Vegas, people took to mean a hangover. I got a particularly nasty stink-eye from a maintenance worker in the ladies' room.

It was a fun, but exhausting 4 days. We learned how to sell and you can tell that some people were getting it and some weren't. I decided that there were only about 2 people out of the 60 that I would have hired on the spot -- myself not included since I just couldn't nail the cold call. Negotiating and the assessment meeting I could do. Cold calling ... dude ... never did get that one down.

Although there were some that you just wanted to stay the hell away from, most of the other players in the seminar were a hoot. There was Boston (okay I would have hired Boston, so that's 3 people), Mississippi, New Jersey, Los Angeles, Tennessee and 4 we called Bakersfield. Mississippi was my personal favorite. He dropped 4 tequila sunrises in the space of an hour and went out to "burn it down!" and by his account the next day succeeded. You've got to admire skinny little guys with stamina like that.

Did I ever leave the hotel? No, which is probably why I got sick. But I did try to cruise the "Miracle Mile" shops on Wednesday night and found the Bettie Page Shop. It was Mecca. It was Heaven. It was the best store I've ever been in. Everything was gorgeous and perfect and had I not been falling over with flu I would have tried on each and every one of those fantastic dresses.

Proving once again that my phone takes crappy pictures.

They're here online too, but if you're in Vegas, Hollywood or San Francisco, go there. Go. Now.

So, home at last. Dosed myself heavily last night with Tylenol Multi-Symptom Cold Stuff and slept for 12 hours and that seems to have done the trick. I'm breathing anyway and that's an improvement over yesterday. Next will be food consumption. I've had a Pop Tart, but I'd like to move up to soup.

Baby steps, I know.

Let's Play!

Welcome to Good News/Bad News the game where Yin meets Yang!
I'm your host, Li'l Hateful.

We start with 500 points and Bad News:
Scans showed progression again. I don't know how much, because I found this out over the phone (I was the impatient patient and couldn't wait until the 18th to get the results). But it was decided that the tamoxifen wasn't doing me "any good" and to stop taking it. Round 2 goes to the scorecards and cancer wins another one.

400 points - Good News:
I can stop taking tamoxifen so I don't have to use the Sunday - Saturday pill box anymore, which may mean I forget what day it is.

350 points - Bad News:
Since I've been on some form of hormone inhibitor since April the withdrawal is bringing out all of the worst side effects: leg cramping, headaches, what feels like one constant hot flash, and crazy emotional outbursts -- "What do you mean you don't f...king want to get ice cream?!? We go now or we don't go at all!"

300 points - Good News:
There is a round 3 and it's called Faslodex. It's a shot once a month that you get at the doctor's office and my first one is the 18th. I'll get it at the same time as my usual zometa infusion, which, by the way, is still doing its job. There are still no breaks or fractures in the bones.

300 points - Bad News:
The shot is in your rear end and apparently has the consistency of honey, which means it's a long, drawn-out process. It also may not be good for the platelets.

400 points - Good News:
It's better for the platelets than chemo and, for all of you out there pushing for a second opinion, my doctor did have this to say: "I consulted with some of my colleagues here at the cancer center and we agreed that chemo still wasn't a good idea." He asks other people, people. So, yes, I still trust him and now I feel even better about that trust.

500 points - Good News Tie-Breaker:
I'm still going to Vegas on Monday! There was nothing in the scans that would keep me from going and although my platelet count is not entirely desirable, I don't have any bleeding (apart from where the cat accidentally scratched me just now) or bruising, so the doctor gave me the thumbs-up as long as I don't bungee jump or sky dive or mountain climb, etc... etc...

Winner --- Good News!

See? It's not so bad. Not so bad at all.

Today Is...

Today is Kelly's birthday. She would have been 38.

Today is another day where I have to get up and keep going.

Today is Friday, so tomorrow I don't have to get up as early in order to keep going.

Today is going to be difficult for all the things it is and all the things it isn't.

Tomorrow will be better.

Hope.

A Movie Nearly Every Night: The Fugitive

The Fugitive (1993)
Dir. Andrew "Under Siege" Davis
Starring: Harrison Ford, Tommy Lee Jones, Sela Ward, and the city of Chicago

actor? movie star? meh, who cares

Why this old chestnut? Friends, it's October and here in Oregon that means it starts raining and doesn't stop until next June (with the exception of one strangely sunny week every February). When it's gloomy out you don't put on a tuxedo. You put on an old sweater and some fat pants.

The Fugitive is video fat pants.

I love Tommy Lee Jones. I love him as Doolittle Lynn. I love him as Agent K. I love him as the crazy cop in The Eyes of Laura Mars. And I love love love him as Sam Gerrard.


He is my role model. He's firm, but he's fair. He barks at his staff ("Why are you always yelling at me? Why don't you yell at someone else?"), but he loves them ("What could I do? He was going to kill one of my kids.") and, above all, he doesn't bargain.

Did you get that? Yeah, I got that...

I love that the fight between Richard Kimble and the one-armed man on the el train is done in ties and sports coats.

knit, understated, one-color vs. silk paisley

I love Jeroen Krabbe who has made an art out of playing nasty bad guys. I blame Paul Verhoeven for this, but it's also something of a thank you since without him Jeroen may still be stuck in those soft leading roles.

"Richard Kimble is my friend." Do you believe him? No way.

I love that there are five or six shots just of the city of Chicago. It's the first thing we see before any people even show up.


And then there are all these panning shots of buildings, caressing them down from top to bottom. Some directors film women this way and I'm not just saying that because I've mentioned Verhoeven. The cinematographer is Michael Chapman, who's hit and miss (I mean, honestly, Space Jam?), but seems to have a real eye for good looking granite here.

Oh yes. Yes. YES.

I love that Julianne Moore gets fourth billing for five minutes of work, which includes a lot of hair bobbing up and down.

Hey, a little respect, okay?

I only wish they'd have thrown the same bone to Jane Lynch, who provides the evidence, thank you very much, that Kimble uses to prove his innocence. She gets listed somewhere at the bottom in the long line of credits. Fair? Hardly.

It's okay. I didn't like the earrings anyway.

But, most of all, I love these guys, the Click and Clack of Chicago. Dese guys, wid dere Chicago accents is da best parda da movie. When dey say tings like "You all know in what high regard we hold dis scumbag" it makes me wanna go out for a slice or a dog in da Loop.

See yous later den