Bastet

I is for the invoices Roseanne was working on -- ordering new children

I also came up with ten: Factory worker at Wellman Telemarketer for Magazine Discount House Bartender at The Lobo Temp assistant for the annoying architect, Burt Fast food worker at Chicken Divine Floor sweeper/shampooer at Art’s Beauty Salon (or something like that) Server at Rodbell’s diner/luncheonette/whatever Front desk/sales at Lanford Custom Cycle Owner, cook, server, etc. at The Lunchbox Marketer (free samples) at The Buy ‘n’ Bag That was fun, so I'll make mine: What jobs did Jackie have over the course of the series?

Andy is her cousin, though, not her uncle. I haven't yet had a chance to watch this episode, but I lost my will to stay away from the thread and took a peek to see people's reactions. I'm really looking forward to seeing the Darlene/Becky interaction! Anyway, if a character said Becky didn't finish high school, that's both accurate and consistent with how they've talked about it before -- Becky and Darlene both left high school without earning a diploma, instead earning equivalency certificates. So when David graduated high school, Dan and Roseanne talked about how he was the first of their kids to do so.

They're not eavesdroppers if you're chatting away while they shop, are they? The conversation isn't private (you've made it public), and they're not doing anything covert; they can't help but overhear. That makes me see red, as it is so rude - and insulting, as it clearly conveys an attitude of "you, lowly clerk, are not worth basic consideration."

F is for foreclosure, D.J.’s winning word in the spelling bee ("please let it be a word he knows")

Yes, when it went into syndication - by which time she was Roseanne Arnold - they changed the credits on the early seasons.

Z is for the zip code Lanford shares with Hell.

Whatever it is (and I, too, see no need to have changed it), can it not be in all caps, so it matches the rest?

Well, better 30 minutes early than 30 minutes late, certainly, but that's excessively early. If you get to the building 30 minutes early (because you left a lot of extra time in case of problems and then wound up not having any), hang out for 15 minutes and then go in.

Between Ma Scully and Mulder, the refusal to let Scully deal with HER health crisis, one that is likely to prove fatal, in HER own way, is quite aggravating this season. Are you fuckers dying? No? Then shut up. You have your own intense feelings, but hers are paramount and she doesn't owe you squat in how she proceeds. Had Mulder's eyes in Elegy been at sharp contrast with his words, that would have been an incredible scene for its consistent characterization, all the usual layers. But since there's no non-verbal balance to the assholery of his words, he can miss me. There's quite a reason my of-its-time "Mulder, It's Me" mix tape follows that dialogue with Fiona Apple's Sleep to Dream -- because, fuck you, Mulder.

I had to say goodbye to one of my "nephews" today (a friend's cat), and just a couple of months after my best friend's cat (my "niece") died unexpectedly. This was the cat of the ex-boyfriend of one of my best friends. They started dating about ten years ago, we hit it off, and then I met his cat, Beans, and we really hit it off; I became Auntie Bastet and started catsitting him when need be. After about four years, everyone moved in together, so I took care of the two cats (my friend has one, too) whenever they were both gone, and then they went their separate ways - most amicably - earlier this year, and I assured the ex I would always be Auntie Bastet. When his name showed up on my caller ID yesterday, I thought I was being asked to kitty sit. Alas, no, it was to tell me Beans was in bad shape (cause unknown, but we have some suspects, and it was a multi-organ thing at this point) and in-home euthanasia had been scheduled for this afternoon; the ex invited me to come say good-bye, given our close relationship (Beans didn't like anyone [other than the ex] besides me - and, yes, that includes my friend, despite the years living together - and he cuddled with me in ways he never did with the ex), and of course I said yes. When I talked with him this morning, he asked me to stay and be there for the end. This was his first pet, so he's never been through this before, and he wanted me there for both of them. Again, of course yes. Beans hadn't much gotten out of his bed for the past couple of days, but when he heard my voice he hobbled out into the living room and rubbed me, so that was incredibly precious. My friend came over after I'd been there about an hour, which gave us all another hour or so, and she and Beans made their peace in the end - she was able to pet him without being snapped at. I got down on the floor and stuck my head into his bed to kiss him and talk to him, and then it was time for the sedative. We all said our final goodbyes and then the injection. I'm so drained. This is the fourth time I've been with a friend and a niece/nephew at the end, and while it's not the same as when I've had to set one of my own cats free from their suffering, it's still hard; it's a wonderful thing to be able to give them such a peaceful death, but it's still a death and you're right there watching it. I loved Beans, and I'll miss him. I cried when it was just us, then kept myself in check to be strong for the ex and my friend, who'd never done this before and had no idea what to expect, and then cried again as we reminisced and later as I drove home (where I promptly drove Riley nuts with all the picking up and hugging). He was sixteen, and it was time. I'm so glad it happened at home; the vet and tech were both wonderful. And I'm honored to have been invited to be part of such an important moment, and to have received such nice words from the ex about being a good Auntie. But I'm sad. I've said this before, but it bears repeating: Lifespan is the bane of pet ownership, and it is the ultimate testament to how much having a pet enriches our lives that we knowingly sign up for that heartbreak over and over. Sorry, I'm babbling. But my parents are on week two of a two-week vacation, so I've been going back and forth between the two houses and just rather marinating in cat love lately, and saying goodbye to one of my buddies in the midst of that is making me quite sentimental about the bond.

That makes sense with the pre-reveal segment where Paige goes over the project with Laurie (that and the reveal was the only part I saw), because Paige mentions the color scheme and Laurie says, "Which I've learned may be an issue."

Marge Dolman What's the name of the mall security guard who keeps bugging Jackie (to get together and kill something) when Roseanne is trying to talk to her about those dreams of Dan's?

I've watched a couple dozen old episodes lately, and I'm trying to decide who I'd least like to have designing my room. Vern, Laurie, or Genevieve I'd easily take my chances with, but Frank, Doug, or Hildi? In those 20+ episodes, I saw precisely one Frank room that I didn't find hideous, and zero that I actually liked. Doug and Hildi did some awful, bizarre rooms, but then they also did some I liked. So at first glance Frank would be my "No Way" designer, because the odds of me liking the room would be slim to none, but, on the other hand, Frank doing my room would just be a waste -- I'd have to repaint (over all his god-awful stenciling) and give away most of what was in there, but I wouldn't be any worse off than when I started -- whereas with Doug or Hildi, while there's a chance I'd like the room, at least in part, there's also a chance I'd not only dislike it, but have repair work I'd need to do to fix it. So, it's tough to say (and a moot point since I'd never go on this show), but I think I'd least want Frank, then Hildi, then Doug. So, in order of preference: Vern, Laurie, Genevieve, Doug, Hildi, Frank. (I saw two episodes with Edward, which wasn't enough to get a sense of him - and I don't remember from back in the day - and none with any of the other designers, so I'm just ranking based on the six whose designs I have a decent sample of in fresh memory.) As for who I'd want to work with, I think I'd enjoy the experience with any of them, but I'd rank my preference as: Genevieve, Vern, Frank, Laurie, Hildi, Doug.

"I don't see why I have to be stuck in this kitchen cooking dinner for this family." What did the Conners give Jackie as congratulations on getting her trucker's license?

That's what was killing me as I watched the marathon of old episodes Friday and Saturday -- homeowner after homeowner decorated themselves every bit as badly as they decorated their homes, so they either have no taste or bad taste. If they have no taste, and know it - that being why they're bringing in a designer, because they don't know how to do it themselves (well, that and free labor plus 15 minutes of fame) - then they should be happy someone at least gave them a starting point and some ideas. If they have bad taste, meaning they think their room looked pretty good before, and they've seen the show and know no one but Frank is going to do anything remotely close to the countrified crap they have going on, then they never should have signed up because the end result was inevitably not going to be their style. When a designer gives them a room that's downright bizarre and difficult to undo, I have sympathy before them, even though they knew the risk when they signed up. But when it's someone who goes apeshit over a cohesive, normal room that simply isn't the style/color they'd have picked and can be easily changed, forget it.

A wok. Staying with the same episode, what did drunken Dana mangle Herb Alpert and the Tijuana Brass into when talking about her parents' music?

Tie a bow tie. What did Becky and her friend Dana get drunk on, and what's in them?

Q is for the thousand Q-Tips Darlene got D.J. for Christmas. (At least she got him something on his list.)

I just looked her up, and, yes - that's the name of the woman I recognized in the teaser for this reunion. Looking at her credits, it was Bang For Your Buck that I saw her in. Thank you.

I forgot to complain about this one during the Olympics, but it just aired again, so ... "Nine out of ten U.S. Olympians grew up drinking milk." Ya think? Most kids in America grew up drinking milk. So it's probably just as true that nine out of ten U.S. serial killers, burglars, televangelists, and used car salespeople also grew up drinking milk, and said consumption is no more relevant to their eventual choices in life than it is to the Olympians'.

I wouldn't think of a twin bed as generally being for adults (at least here in the U.S. - some European hotels, even nice ones, in central locations, yep), and I wouldn't particularly want to share a double instead of a queen with a cat/cats (if I shared with a person, it would have to be a king!) as those extra inches make a difference to me even with just one cat, but I'm really surprised to hear double/full lumped in with twin in the kids section. I never had a twin-size bed as a kid; I went from a crib to a double. But I've also never thought of a double as a kids' bed -- I think the "full-size" designation is apt, in that it's the baseline for adult beds, and then you go up in size from there if you want (or down, under certain circumstances). So to have to visit the kids section to find it - I agree that's nonsensical.

I watched my recording of Brown Jesse, but only the reveal, so I don't know what kind of discussion went on between Laurie and the couple working with her about Jesse's hatred of brown. Ultimately, though, what Laurie knew and how hard the friends fought against the color scheme is irrelevant - Jesse is ridiculous. "I'm trying to be a big person right now." Well, it ain't working, honey; you are literally stomping your foot, and in a couple of minutes you're going to be shoving your friend and stomping out the door. I understand the underlying sentiment. If I gave my friends a nice room I knew they'd love, and came home to find they'd given me a pink room despite knowing I was inevitably going to hate it and immediately re-do it because pink is the one color I don't like a single shade of, I'd be very disappointed. And, while I love brown (and orange), the particular brown Laurie used in that room was rather ugly, at least on camera. But damn. She wouldn't admit there was anything in there she'd like if it was a different color, and then she tackled her friend. Again, I didn't watch the rest of the episode, so I don't know if this ridiculously childish personality is her norm or something she resorts to when upset, but either way - grow up, Brown Jesse.

When I renovate my kitchen, and finally get a dishwasher, I will definitely go with Bosch; from an informal survey of friends and family's kitchens, they are by far the quietest. People rinsing, rather than scraping, their dishes before putting them in the dishwasher is a peeve of mine, right up there with using way too much detergent in the washing machine, but I suppose that's for another category.

I watched Strong Island, Yance Ford's Oscar-nominated documentary about his brother's murder. The New Yorker has a good summary of the facts of the case: It's an infuriatingly familiar disgust -- being big and black turns shooting him seconds after he enters the room into justifiable homicide, no need to bother with a trial, no crime was committed. The bitter irony that he had applied to be a corrections officer, and that hours before he was killed he'd been on the witness stand, testifying for the prosecution in high-profile case, because he’d seen the aftermath of a DA being shot at an ATM and had chased after and tackled the shooter, really brings it home. And the film is incredibly personal, beyond even what you'd expect from his brother being the director. As the New Yorker article continues: One of the most powerful scenes is when his mother discusses her guilt over her perceived failure to keep her son alive. He says, "I did him a great disservice raising him the way we did. We taught you kids that you see character, not color. And many, many times, I wonder how I could have been so wrong.” The most haunting is when Yance Ford lets out an anguished scream that fills the room, upon hearing from the investigator that the grand jury's decision not to indict was justified by the facts of the case - his brother had, after all, thrown a vacuum cleaner the month before. That certainly creates a reasonable fear that justifies the use of deadly force the next time the guy walks in the shop, right? It's an ugly case, and a familiar case, but the way the family unravels in its aftermath is the real story, and well worth a look.