Sunday, June 23, 2019
That's right! SalGal and KK are branching out...for a fit that suits us like a glove. We are brand new audiobook narrators. Let's face it...we ARE characters, no question or arguments there, so we KNOW about characters, and we LOVE characters, and we have too much time on our hands, which is nothing new.
This is a wonderful outlet, aside from our 'written-word' madness...now, we can narrate YOUR written-word insanity or gravitas (and being happy while narrating sadness, death, tragedy takes SOME kind of talent...and a vodka martini at the end of a chapter or five!)...we GOT this!
All of us know SOMEONE who listens to audiobooks with but a few degrees of separation. And, your homework for the day is to recommend us to any author whom you know who has written a book and wants to find the perfect VOICE for their story.
SPREAD THE WORD PEOPLE!!! Contact KK at email@example.com / SalGal at firstname.lastname@example.org
The Midlife Gals At the Mic!
Monday, May 13, 2019
The Midlife Gals have been thinking...always a scary prospect...about 'security questions.' You know, the ones you have to make up for online security...or pick the default questions that some idiot thought up to REALLY trick the criminals. Here's our list:
Sal's Security Questions:
What is your favorite vodka?
What is your favorite curse word?
What would be your ideal job?
Cocktail contest judge
What was the name of your kindergarten school?
Mother's walk-in closet/purse section
What do you sleep in?
Only step-ins/no jammies
What's your favorite food?
pâté de foie gras or a Frito Pie with extra cheese
KK's Security Questions:
In what location did you lose your virginity?
Parent's living room floor
What did you name your current automobile?
What goes with olives?
Which husband was your favorite?
Now, if we can just remember our answers!
KK and Sal
Tuesday, April 30, 2019
Monday, April 8, 2019
Definition Right Brain vs. Left Brain
“This theory of the structure and functions of the mind suggests that the two different sides of the brain control two different “modes” of thinking. It also suggests that each of us prefers one mode over the other.”
This just explains SO much about the difference between SalGal and me. I do suspicion that Albert Einstein had a twisted balance between the two lobes or he wouldn’t have this sensibility:
Einstein Funny Quotes:
Two things are infinite: the universe and human stupidity; and I'm not sure about the universe.
The secret to creativity is knowing how to hide your sources.
Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen.
In order to form an immaculate member of a flock of sheep one must, above all, be a sheep.
Insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
Technological progress is like an axe in the hands of a pathological criminal.
The devil has put a penalty on all things we enjoy in life. Either we suffer in health or we suffer in soul or we get fat.
Sally and I form one perfect whole...okay...an imperfect whole, but that’s another story. She lives in a mansion on the water on a different planet most of the year. When called back to my left-brain world in order to complete some analytical project that I’ve given her...she brings a small carry-on bag. She doesn’t like to stay too long. I can’t blame her, because there is a teensy-weensy segment of my brain that travels to-and-fro my own right-brained planet, especially when I’m telling a story...I can get very carried away.
God had such a great sense of humor when forming these two lobes of our brains. No wonder she had to rest on the seventh day, week, year...whatEVER. I’m too pragmatic to believe in an actual figure called God. When I see the stars and planets at night, I know that I am but an infinitesimal ‘ash’ spewed from a forming galaxy. It’s both a comforting, yet unsettling notion that reminds me of a greater power, but not someone in a toga with long, white hair. Seriously? That’s all we could come up with visually for the essence of love?
I’m getting off track here because sometimes I write while I’m plotting my circular route that will take me through the six errands I have to run and home again within the time parameter I have set for myself. At the end of a day, over a martini, I discuss the successes of my day and all of the things I accomplished, which are usually legion because I’m organized, ok? Then, I pamper myself by watching shows on the ‘Crime and Investigation’ channel: Manhunters (US Marshals chasing bad guys all over the country), Food channel: Iron Chef America (a frantic yet highly-organized contest between two chefs to prepare the perfect meal within a one-hour time frame), NBC: Jeopardy (we all know how left brain Alex Trebec is, and to really let loose, I’ll watch Project Runway (creative, right-brainers also frantically working toward making a single garment within a very strict time frame). There is a disturbing pattern that I’ve just discovered after ‘crafting’ this paragraph.
THERE IS NO HOPE FOR ME!!!!!!!
Well, I have to admit that KK is right about everything. She has a good hold on her left brain, analytical, organized ways of looking at the day, while I bumblefuck my way through projects like a monkey in a costume shop. I may decide to put the pants on my head and use a beret as a codpiece, but I do end up with an appropriate wardrobe in the end. I just need KK to tell me how to wear it. “Do these yellow socks go with this red and gold gypsy scarf?” She shakes her head and goes to her closet for some more presentable garb for me, as she balances her checkbook and programs the DVR for daily recordings of ‘SWAT/Aida,Oklahama’ on the way to her closet.
I get things done, dammit. I do. But if I’m on a mission to go to Costco for some kitty litter and olives, and I see a rainbow over the canal, I’m going to pull over and enjoy the show. And if I see a garage sale on Kahala Street with giant conch shells visible on the grass and candles in the shape of mermaids, well, Costco can wait.
I would really like to have a perfectly organized life but things just get in the way of my plans. If I’m in my left brain for too long a period of time, I get petulant and I have to take a nap and then eat M&M’s as soon as I wake up. I don’t know why….
KK, on the other hand, needs to know why for everything. “Why can’t you see that the bank is on the way to Costco and to go that way so you can kill of two birds with one stone?”
“Oh, KK, that is so cruel. Those birds never hurt anyone and just because they shit on your car windshield is no reason to plot their deaths by stoning.”
You see what I have to put up with? We just don’t think alike. Our conversations over Martinis today will be interesting as usual. Things she accomplished, things I forgot to do because I saw an albino cat in a window on our street and had to stop and take a picture of it on my I-Phone so I could post it on my facebook page…but I digress again.
She will understand, as long as it’s a double shot of vodka that flips her into her right brain...that there are no olives in our ‘Teenees’ today because I never made it to Costco.
Tuesday, March 26, 2019
Apparently the Royals don’t get to sleep in. There seems to always be someone ‘in waiting’ to assist them, and everyone is on a tight shedjule. The dressers have to get them ready. I’ll bet dollars to donuts the Queen does not own a pair of jeans. That’s a shame, and we feel sorry for her. Elizabeth is of the panty hose generation (thank God that’s over). And, I’m fairly certain that the royal closets do not contain an exercise outfit for her either. No lilac, polyester leisure suit in which to lounge around the palace. I’ll bet she still wears a girdle.
Because we long ago won our independence from the British Empire, I am able to say all these tacky things about the Queen. The Brits say some pretty tacky things too, so I’m in good company. It’s just that I wonder about things like this, I mean, when I’m not thinking lofty, sophisticated, intelligent thoughts, which takes up my mornings, but then leaves me all afternoon to ponder the trivial...like whether Prince Philip wear boxers or briefs...briefs on Prince Philip..ROTFLMAO!!
We’ve all been visualizing Will and Kate’s wedding night in the boudoir...oh come on. But, they’ve been together so long already, I wonder if they needed to watch a porn video just to get things going. Probably not. They’re still young. What did her negligee look like? Did he doff a red velvet robe with a matching thong underneath?
Does the Queen have a Lazy-Boy recliner with the feet that come up and pockets on the sides where she can keep royal documents to work on during Wheel of Fortune (if they get that show in the UK, I don’t know). Do the royal ladies do their own makeup? Probably, because every one of them could use serious make overs. Not Kate though.
Well, that was fun. Just pondering things that make the world more interesting for me. It’s pretty interesting already, but wouldn’t you like to dumpster dive at Buckingham Palace just to see what’s going on in there??????
Can the royals have simple pleasures? Do they even have a front porch? Do the young couples from the neighborhood push their babies by in Belgian Laced prams trimmed with satin bows and studded with pearls? Do the royals sit there with their perfect martinis in hand and diss the Euro-trash, hoarders who live in the castle down the dale? Never mind that it is the Prince of Monaco and the hoard is a pile of marble statues of Roman Gods piled next to the freezer in the 12-car garage. Still tacky.
I’ll bet you some crispy oysters at The Four Seasons that none of the royals have ever taken a plastic spoon and dived into a greasy Frito Pie, yes, still in the Frito package and dripping with cheese. Poor things, bless their hearts, they are deprived.
KK and I are going to meet a friend for Happy Hour at our favorite, little French restaurant downtown on Friday. All we have to do is put on some cool jewelry, retouch our ‘J-Lo Sparkles-Are-Good-Bronzer’, and walk out the door. We don’t have to wait for the security team to clear the restaurant, and the five-hundred-thousand-dollar sapphire necklace and matching bracelet to be brought down from the vault in the Tower of London so that we can wear that royal blue, brushed silk cocktail dress that was delivered from the showroom at the Chanel store. God forbid that they would have to go amongst the riffraff to actually shop for clothes. The royals can’t go shopping without the paparazzi finding out what size their bras and panties are and broadcasting that info on the Naked News channel that night.
I’ll bet the royals don’t even know what the two-step is…or how a good batch of popcorn at the local movie theater is when it falls out hot and salty from the popper. They must have to rely on Netflix. Can you imagine what they would have to go through just to slip out to the movies and see the latest Vin Diesel movie?
God, we’re so lucky,