Reasons you’re glad you live in Pittsburgh #2: Cat kicks Abby’s butt

I love Tuesday.  I love Tuesday because that’s the day the new Cat’s Call appears in the PG.  Why do I eagerly await her advice every week?  Because she kicks ass.  She picks questions that make the questioner look like a jerk, then calls them on being a jerk.  Other advice columns are full of questions about friends’ and stepchildren’s shortcomings – Cat doesn’t shy away from pointing out that we don’t have to judge other people, and if we do, we’d better judge ourselves with the same stroke.

She also doesn’t mind saying, “Duh.”  If someone writes in with the 75,000 reasons he doesn’t want to stay with his girlfriend, she’s going to tell him to leave.  If someone writes in saying she feels guilty because she spit on a dog, Cat will tell her to wash the dog and never do it again.  Pragmatism rules.

Plus, there’s the undeniable advice-column voyeurism that I can’t shake.  “Look how crazy that person is” meets “looks like everyone has weirder problems than me” meets “OMG who would say that??!”  I read Abby before I discovered Cat’s Call, but now…

Ms. TR’s Call:  Abby may give advice, but Cat preaches the gospel of kickass.

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The Dread.

Last weekend Mr. TR and I helped our Pittsburgh Friends (our buddies from the ‘Burgh with whom we congregate to watch games, drink beer, and tell inside jokes) move into a new apartment.  They have about a fifth the crap that we have, and they moved about two miles, and it was terrible.  This has led to the beginning of The Dread.

Moving.  Sucks.

I have no concrete plans for how we’re going to get a houseful of junk here back to PGH.  I have a feeling Mr. TR is hatching all kinds of plots involving heavy lifting and bubble wrap, but I get a little queasy every time I think of that fateful day next year when 160 boxes marked “Misc.” have to be out of the house.

When we moved away, I promised to my deltoids that we’d never move ourselves again – there are too many reputable and trustworthy professional movers for us amateurs to go it alone.  A funny thing happened though.  We didn’t win the lottery.  Go figure.  So we’re looking forward to another homegrown move, trying to amass as many favor debts as we can.  We’re starting with Pittsburgh Friends, and I think we’re getting the better deal.  We have like five times the crap they do.

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The Safety Dance

Ugh.  Just ugh.  Where to start?  The four interceptions?  The injuries?  The continued lack of performance of the offensive line?  Oh wait, I know.  The safety. 

Why?  Someone please, honor us with an explanation of why James Harrison was snapping the ball for that punt-gone-horribly-horribly wrong.  We have a center.  We actually have more than one, ESPN is kind enough to tell us:

It wasn’t certain why Harrison was snapping rather than starting center Justin Hartwig or right guard Darnell Stapleton, a center at Rutgers.

No, it was not certain at all.

We were ahead when that went down.  Granted, we weren’t ahead enough to be comfortable, but we were ahead enough to win if that bizarre momentum-changing safety hadn’t tied the game in the 4th quarter. 

And 4 interceptions?!  More than double his entire season total up to today?!  Whoever has kidnapped The Ben’s arm, he needs it back before next week.  Whatever the ransom is, all 2 of my readers and I will pool our money and pay it.  No funny business, just let us know where to make the drop.

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Fun with the internet!

Vote here in the National Aviary’s presidential election.  Penguin ’08!

How did I not already know about the Post-Gazette’s YouTube channel?  You can see all the local “Scary Shorts” submissions, which are hilarious, I mean spooky.

Andy’s were better.

Today is World Zombie Day.  Of course it is.

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Reasons you’re glad you live in Pittsburgh #1

 

That is all.

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Charming Pittsburgh-oriented media #2: Steel-town girl on a Saturday night

Mr. TR comes home to find his wife propped up in bed covered in pets watching Flashdance instead of the World Series.  The following conversation ensues:

Him:  What?  Why?

Me:  I’m doing research.

Him:  Uh, for what?

Me:  My blog.

Him:  When did you get a blog?

Me:  Wednesday.

Him:  Oh.  [beat]  Can we watch baseball?

Lots of shots of things we recognize, including the Gulf Building in the opening scene and a lot of good stuff inside the Carnegie complex.  An irresistable appeal to olde-tyme Pittsburgh in the protagonist Alex, who welds and rivets, keeps her dignity while dancing for money, goes to confession, and dreams of something better.  But honey?  Even in Pittsburgh we have to lock up our bikes.

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I have one thing to say:

DUMBASS.

Pittsburgh Steelers receiver Santonio Holmes will reportedly be mailed a summons by police who say they found marijuana-filled cigars known as blunts in his car during a traffic stop.

Police say the 24-year-old, third-year player, didn’t have his license when police stopped him Thursday around 4 p.m. near Mellon Arena.

A police sergeant says Holmes pointed out three blunts after officers smelled the odor of burning marijuana.

1.  How cute, KDKA used, then explained, marijuana slang.

2.  The Santonio is a bad person who beats up girls, and he is also stupid.  He was driving without his license with actively burning marijuana in the car??  Which he pointed out to the cops??

DUMBASS.

You lose your “The,” Santonio.

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Go Phillies?

Ms. TR is a baseball fan.  I mean, a Baseball Fan.  I keep score by hand and explain the infield fly rule to my friends that don’t care.  I’ve gone to games alone on the way home from work when Mr. TR had to work late.  Furthermore, I am a Pirates fan.  Because no girl has enough heartbreak in her life until she cherishes a sports team that disappoints its fans in new ways every season.  So inevitably, this time of year is bittersweet to me – the baseball playoffs and the World Series are a source of joy and excitement.  Without exception, even when I couldn’t possibly care less about a single participant, I’m spellbound.  All that titillation is accompanied, of course, by the same sort of feeling I get looking in the window at Tiffany’s:  “That’s lovely, but not for me.” 

This year adds a whole new dimension to the strangeness.  Now the Phillies are playing in the WS.  Not just playing, but at least for now, winning.  Crap.  I’m very conflicted about the Phillies.  I want to cheer them to Pennsylvania glory, but what I really want is for the Buccos to be representing the state in October.  The Phils are almost as pitiable as the Bucs, but hardly as pitied.  A Rays win this year would leave a tantalizing subtext:  the impossible season is possible.  Keystone State loyalty, or symbolism?  What do you wish for when it’s not worth wishing for your own team to triumph?

Regardless of who wins and how I end up feeling about it, next year I’ll still root, root, root for the home team, but if they don’t win it’s no surprise. (I happen to know a secret about the Bucs, however… stay tuned)

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Charming Pittsburgh-oriented media #1: Who’s the best cop now?!

Gleefully watching movies or television filmed in the ‘Burgh and exclaiming, “OMG, look, it’s that floral shop we like!” every 90 seconds is my least productive hobby.  It’s a good hobby, one that I shall inflict on you.  I figure I might as well start right out of the gate with the crown jewel of Pittsburgh movies.  Of course, I’m talking about the contrived but entertaining 1993 Bruce Willis action flick Striking Distance.  Yes, that’s the one Bruce apologized for making.  I’m not the only one who thinks this orgy of local shout-outs is the best movie featuring the ‘Burgh – City Paper digs it too.

Do not let all the plot holes, inconsistencies, and crappy acting fool you.  This is a Great Film.  As evidenced by the sweeping river scenes, the car chase down Bigelow that uses the same quarter mile half a dozen times, the Iron City truck, Ken Rice… oh alright, yes, the plot is ridiculous.  Drunken-yet-honorable detective and his tough-and-tender partner ruffle feathers in the PPD (all of which is apparently part of Our Hero’s extended family) tracking down a serial killer (copycatting the other serial killer who offed Our Hero’s dad the police lieutenant) who is trying to frame none other than Our Hero.  Then in the Big Twist, we discover that [gasp] it’s the same serial killer, and he is also part of Our Hero’s family, and the PPD.  Our Hero was right all along!  The killer WAS a cop!  Was I supposed to put a spoiler alert in front of all that?

I still haven’t figured out how everyone is related.

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Sigh.

The pierogi section at my local grocery store:

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