The grocery store has a little sign above each express line which tells you how many items (or less) you may have. What the sign does not state is that you may not be a moron to use such line, and if you are going to act like an idiot, please step aside.
I fear that I may sound like a bitter little freak here, but when I get in an express line I expect it to be speedy. Today I chose an express line with only two people waiting; a woman eggs and paper towels at the front of the line followed by another woman with a loaf of bread and three cans, then my turn. This seemed promising, I'll be out in no time! So promising, until I realized that Eggs and Paper Towels was destined to write a check... or a novel, it was hard to tell.
I know that some people are afraid of bank cards, my Mom is one of them, but she tends to carry enough cash to pay for eggs and paper towels. And if she didn't have enough cash she would definitely have her checkbook and ID ready by the time she reached the counter. And she would be writing the name of the store on the check while simultaneously placing her items on the belt. We are a very efficient family. The woman at the front of the line today had nothing to do with efficiency.
I was nice and calm when the cashier told Eggs and Paper Towels her total and she slowly reached for her checkbook. I kept my cool as she searched in her bag for a pen, overlooking the one sitting on the counter. I shifted my weight (in a passive aggressive way) when she asked him for the total again. I felt my heart rate going up as she kept writing and writing and writing. How much could she possibly fit on that itty bitty check? Some relief passed over my psyche when she tore the check from the book, but the relief was soon swept away when the cashier asked for her ID. He asked her twice, once while she was filling out the register in her check book and again while she was putting her pen away. Once Eggs and Paper Towels understood what was being requested of her she began to root around in her cavernous purse for her missing ID, laughing and chatting the entire time. In front of me Loaf of Bread and Three Cans let out a very loud and sad sigh, we rolled our eyes at each other. About 5 minutes later Eggs and Paper Towels was grabbing her bag and looking as if she was going to leave when she decided this would be the best time to ask the cashier about those neat little self check out stations to our right. Oh, how I wished I was at one of those self check out stations. The ever helpful cashier told her all about the machines, the people using them, where babies come from and how the universe was created. Then they sat down and had a cup of tea and she found some crumpets in her giant purse. Loaf of Bread and Three Cans turned to me and wept, then we cried ourselves to sleep.
Saturday, June 19, 2004
Thursday, June 17, 2004
backseat bride
My best friend, Lisa(who I've known for 21 years), is getting married this year. She's been pretty busy and a little stressed out, so I tried to do a few things to help her out. One of the things I did was open accounts on both the Knot and the Wedding Channel for her, so she could get ideas and perhaps chat with other brides to be.
This all seemed like a very good idea until my OCD came back into play. What tragically happened is that I started looking at these sites more than Lisa does. "More than Lisa" is most likely an understatement, because I don't think she's even had time to check them out yet. Then on the other hand you have me, the un-bride, who can't stop going to these sites. I've checked them everyday for the past week. Addicted to the message boards filled with the desperate rants of pre and post brides. I found myself getting fired up over these stories and journals I've been reading. Some of these women are fucking nuts.
It started off pretty harmless, there I was just browsing around looking for recommendations for caterers, but then the next thing I knew 2 hours had passed. I had been clicking link after link after link; reading about how a mother of the groom was mad because there would be a keg at the reception, or how a bridesmaid was pregnant and due around this bride's wedding date and how tacky and thoughtless that bridesmaid was. Many brides wrote about going so far as "demoting" their maid of honor. I was in pure disbelief of these women. I tried to stop myself from reading these stories of practice hair-do appointments, custom made t-shirts, and mint julep votive candle holders but I couldn't, I just kept on reading, my jaw on the floor. I guess since reality TV is so dry right now I needed to go somewhere to get my fix.
The first thing I had to figure out was what everything meant: FI = Fiance (or FH for Future Husband), FIL = Future in Laws, MOH = Maid of Honor, etc.. For some reason it took me a little while to figure them out, I guess I never thought of abbreviating those things, probably because I never had to. I did (and still do) think using BM to refer to your closest friends, your Bridesmaids, is a little uncouth, but I guess when you're a fast and furious bride-to-be you don't have time to type the whole word. Next I realized that the Knot is much more classy than the Wedding Channel, so of course I spent all my time on the Wedding Channel. Then I had to find out how to look at these people's pictures. It wasn't enough to just read about the chair covers for the reception (even though the FI thought they were too pricey), I had to see them. I entered a whole new world. I gazed upon picture after picture of people I don't, and will never, know. Giddy brides at their final fitting, couples shoving cake into each other's mouths, tiaras pinned to piles of curls, cascading flowers hung on pews. Whole wedding albums have been posted. Unbelievable. Then what really floored me was this...
Some of these ladies who post on the boards have already been married for 3 (or more) years, but they continue to talk about their wedding like it was yesterday. It blows my mind that anyone feels this way. I love a wedding as much as the next gal, but this seemed very overboard to me. I suppose my passions lie elsewhere and I always assumed these boards were only used as a tool. But weddings and being a wife (and giving advice on how to do both) seem to be a pretty big deal to these people. Then I started to realize that many of these women had become friends through a support group system and now would go through motherhood together, online. Not only were their wedding albums posted, but now there were pictures of their children. Or if the children were not born yet, pictures of ultrasounds and bellies containing children. Some women have even posted their fertility charts. That's right, I repeat: women on these message boards POST THEIR FERTILITY CHARTS.
and i looked at them.
It seemed so strange to me, all of a sudden I felt like a minority, as if there was this secret bride society no one ever invited me to. Which is okay. I suppose these women find their support where they need to: online. For me... when it comes to things like the details of my wedding day and my ovaries I'd rather keep it a little closer to home. So should I ever have a fertility chart you can bet your bippy you won't be seeing it on this blog.
I went cold turkey today, I broke up with the message boards, and I'm doing just fine. I don't have any signs of wedding withdrawal and now I just hope that Lisa doesn't fall prey to these evil, evil addictive boards.
This all seemed like a very good idea until my OCD came back into play. What tragically happened is that I started looking at these sites more than Lisa does. "More than Lisa" is most likely an understatement, because I don't think she's even had time to check them out yet. Then on the other hand you have me, the un-bride, who can't stop going to these sites. I've checked them everyday for the past week. Addicted to the message boards filled with the desperate rants of pre and post brides. I found myself getting fired up over these stories and journals I've been reading. Some of these women are fucking nuts.
It started off pretty harmless, there I was just browsing around looking for recommendations for caterers, but then the next thing I knew 2 hours had passed. I had been clicking link after link after link; reading about how a mother of the groom was mad because there would be a keg at the reception, or how a bridesmaid was pregnant and due around this bride's wedding date and how tacky and thoughtless that bridesmaid was. Many brides wrote about going so far as "demoting" their maid of honor. I was in pure disbelief of these women. I tried to stop myself from reading these stories of practice hair-do appointments, custom made t-shirts, and mint julep votive candle holders but I couldn't, I just kept on reading, my jaw on the floor. I guess since reality TV is so dry right now I needed to go somewhere to get my fix.
The first thing I had to figure out was what everything meant: FI = Fiance (or FH for Future Husband), FIL = Future in Laws, MOH = Maid of Honor, etc.. For some reason it took me a little while to figure them out, I guess I never thought of abbreviating those things, probably because I never had to. I did (and still do) think using BM to refer to your closest friends, your Bridesmaids, is a little uncouth, but I guess when you're a fast and furious bride-to-be you don't have time to type the whole word. Next I realized that the Knot is much more classy than the Wedding Channel, so of course I spent all my time on the Wedding Channel. Then I had to find out how to look at these people's pictures. It wasn't enough to just read about the chair covers for the reception (even though the FI thought they were too pricey), I had to see them. I entered a whole new world. I gazed upon picture after picture of people I don't, and will never, know. Giddy brides at their final fitting, couples shoving cake into each other's mouths, tiaras pinned to piles of curls, cascading flowers hung on pews. Whole wedding albums have been posted. Unbelievable. Then what really floored me was this...
Some of these ladies who post on the boards have already been married for 3 (or more) years, but they continue to talk about their wedding like it was yesterday. It blows my mind that anyone feels this way. I love a wedding as much as the next gal, but this seemed very overboard to me. I suppose my passions lie elsewhere and I always assumed these boards were only used as a tool. But weddings and being a wife (and giving advice on how to do both) seem to be a pretty big deal to these people. Then I started to realize that many of these women had become friends through a support group system and now would go through motherhood together, online. Not only were their wedding albums posted, but now there were pictures of their children. Or if the children were not born yet, pictures of ultrasounds and bellies containing children. Some women have even posted their fertility charts. That's right, I repeat: women on these message boards POST THEIR FERTILITY CHARTS.
and i looked at them.
It seemed so strange to me, all of a sudden I felt like a minority, as if there was this secret bride society no one ever invited me to. Which is okay. I suppose these women find their support where they need to: online. For me... when it comes to things like the details of my wedding day and my ovaries I'd rather keep it a little closer to home. So should I ever have a fertility chart you can bet your bippy you won't be seeing it on this blog.
I went cold turkey today, I broke up with the message boards, and I'm doing just fine. I don't have any signs of wedding withdrawal and now I just hope that Lisa doesn't fall prey to these evil, evil addictive boards.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
I need a nap
Alex's brother came out to visit for the weekend. It was a lot of fun, but it's been awhile since I've been awake past 1:30am... for 3 consecutive nights. I'm still feeling the burn. Wow, I sound like a big loser.
But we did have good times; we ate lots of food, had drinks, watched a hilarious movie, took a walk at the Albany Bulb, tasted some sake and tried our best at a Pub Quiz.
here are some pics.
gates at Albany Bulb
Bob and Alex at the bulb
Alex and Bob at sculpture
sculpture at Bulb
how to make sake
sake barrel
sake factory
But we did have good times; we ate lots of food, had drinks, watched a hilarious movie, took a walk at the Albany Bulb, tasted some sake and tried our best at a Pub Quiz.
here are some pics.
gates at Albany Bulb
Bob and Alex at the bulb
Alex and Bob at sculpture
sculpture at Bulb
how to make sake
sake barrel
sake factory
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
Wednesday, June 09, 2004
string karma
My friend Greg is one great character. He's 100% lovable with just a dash of goofy and a tendency to be accident prone. It's pretty common for him to walk into something or drop something and then trip over it... you get the idea. That's just one of the reasons why he's so darn fun, especially because he has a great sense of humor about it.
For his birthday Greg put a big ol' rafting trip together. There were 18 of us there and it was an overnight deal where the company provided tents and everything. That night Greg decided to enjoy the fresh night air and sleep outside. To do this and avoid freezing he wore his trusty wool hat to keep him warm. This wool hat had strings to tie under his chin so that his head may stay warm no matter how much he tossed and turned during the night. In the morning one by one we straggled out of our tents to find a groggy Greg struggling to untie the knot that forced his warm wool hat to remain on his head. He tried pulling the hat off. He tried pulling the string over his face, resulting in comical pig-like nose and cheek contortions. He tried biting the strings. I had a go at it, and I'll tell you, that knot was like a pebble, it wasn't going anywhere. The whole lot of us had many laughs as we gave our unsolicited advise to Greg. "Cut it, cut it, cut it."
Eventually someone defeated the string without the cutting we all chanted for, leaving Greg's hat in tact. His pride... well, I think that was okay too, because he was still laughing.
We split up into 3 groups after breakfast for the actual rafting trip. Although my group did not include Greg we all talked about the hat incident and told our guide about it. As it would happen, the rafts would meet up periodically and as we cruised up to Greg's raft for the first time our guide asked (unprompted), "Are you the one who couldn't get your hat off this morning?" It was hilarious, both rafts were laughing it up, but I don't think Greg thought it was so funny this time. I felt a little bad for having told our guide about it.
sorry, Greg.
But I think Greg may have felt a little better when the string karma came back to bite me in the ass last week.
I was wearing an ill fitting pair of Gap pants, which I often complain about. every single time I wear them. These pants have a fly and a button, but they also have a drawstring. I guess this is the Gap's cop out on not having to fit a specific waist size. So last Thursday I was down in Greg's office chatting it up and when I was on my way back upstairs I realized I had to pee. I stopped in the bathroom that I hate, the one with 3 inches of space in between the stall door and the wall, which makes it easy for anyone who walks into that bathroom to see who is taking a leak. Nevertheless, I had to go, so there I was keeping an eye on who was coming in while trying to untie my drawstring pants. And then I kept trying to untie my drawstring pants. Two people came and left, probably wondering what the hell I was doing, because you can clearly see in the stall. And you know what happened then? I was still trying to untie my drawstring pants. A knot to rival the knot of Greg was thrust upon me, making it impossible to pee. After about 10 minutes I admitted defeat, and zipped and buttoned up my ill fitting pants and headed back to my desk. I thought about cutting the strings off, but I kind of needed them to keep the pants up. I looked for further options in my trusty pen mug, and next to the scissors which were taunting me I saw a letter opener which I thought would be perfect for trying to loosen the knot. I spent about 5 minutes debating whether it would be crazier to take the letter opener into the restroom with me or to sit in my cubicle fiddling with a letter opener near my crotch. For some reason I chose the latter which resulted in strange looks and a fair amount of humiliation. But I finally got the knot out, dammit!
and then I apologized to Greg.
For his birthday Greg put a big ol' rafting trip together. There were 18 of us there and it was an overnight deal where the company provided tents and everything. That night Greg decided to enjoy the fresh night air and sleep outside. To do this and avoid freezing he wore his trusty wool hat to keep him warm. This wool hat had strings to tie under his chin so that his head may stay warm no matter how much he tossed and turned during the night. In the morning one by one we straggled out of our tents to find a groggy Greg struggling to untie the knot that forced his warm wool hat to remain on his head. He tried pulling the hat off. He tried pulling the string over his face, resulting in comical pig-like nose and cheek contortions. He tried biting the strings. I had a go at it, and I'll tell you, that knot was like a pebble, it wasn't going anywhere. The whole lot of us had many laughs as we gave our unsolicited advise to Greg. "Cut it, cut it, cut it."
Eventually someone defeated the string without the cutting we all chanted for, leaving Greg's hat in tact. His pride... well, I think that was okay too, because he was still laughing.
We split up into 3 groups after breakfast for the actual rafting trip. Although my group did not include Greg we all talked about the hat incident and told our guide about it. As it would happen, the rafts would meet up periodically and as we cruised up to Greg's raft for the first time our guide asked (unprompted), "Are you the one who couldn't get your hat off this morning?" It was hilarious, both rafts were laughing it up, but I don't think Greg thought it was so funny this time. I felt a little bad for having told our guide about it.
sorry, Greg.
But I think Greg may have felt a little better when the string karma came back to bite me in the ass last week.
I was wearing an ill fitting pair of Gap pants, which I often complain about. every single time I wear them. These pants have a fly and a button, but they also have a drawstring. I guess this is the Gap's cop out on not having to fit a specific waist size. So last Thursday I was down in Greg's office chatting it up and when I was on my way back upstairs I realized I had to pee. I stopped in the bathroom that I hate, the one with 3 inches of space in between the stall door and the wall, which makes it easy for anyone who walks into that bathroom to see who is taking a leak. Nevertheless, I had to go, so there I was keeping an eye on who was coming in while trying to untie my drawstring pants. And then I kept trying to untie my drawstring pants. Two people came and left, probably wondering what the hell I was doing, because you can clearly see in the stall. And you know what happened then? I was still trying to untie my drawstring pants. A knot to rival the knot of Greg was thrust upon me, making it impossible to pee. After about 10 minutes I admitted defeat, and zipped and buttoned up my ill fitting pants and headed back to my desk. I thought about cutting the strings off, but I kind of needed them to keep the pants up. I looked for further options in my trusty pen mug, and next to the scissors which were taunting me I saw a letter opener which I thought would be perfect for trying to loosen the knot. I spent about 5 minutes debating whether it would be crazier to take the letter opener into the restroom with me or to sit in my cubicle fiddling with a letter opener near my crotch. For some reason I chose the latter which resulted in strange looks and a fair amount of humiliation. But I finally got the knot out, dammit!
and then I apologized to Greg.
Tuesday, June 08, 2004
BANG!
This past Sunday I participated in my first ever Bay Area Night Games, fondly referred to as BANG. This was actually number 7 in the series, and Greg has often encouraged me to participate, but not being much of a puzzle person, I always decline. This time, however, I joined up with a team called The Biatches and we had a great time. It was me, Jen and Elaine; although we were not having the best luck solving the puzzles we were quite adept at navigating with the map and we were also very talented when it came to opening the envelopes with the hints and answers, not one of us got a paper cut! As you can see our team didn't fair too well on the scoreboard, but we were sassy. I might go so far as to say we were razzmatazzy.
I've helped Greg and fellow puzzle dude Dave put together Park Challenge in Golden Gate Park before. Organizing these races (registration, putting packets together, etc.) is where my strengths lie, but when it comes to doing (or even testing) these puzzles I fall short. very short. Which is why I've always been so hesitant to join in. Put me behind a desk with some information and confused people standing before me and I'm in! But put a bunch of lines, numbers or pictures in front of my face and tell me to make sense of it and I panic. I guess what it boils down to is the human thang... no one wants to feel stupid. And I'm actually not that bad of a puzzle solver, I could just use a little practice. okay, a lot of practice.
The key for my enjoyment on Sunday was this: I left my editor at home for BANG and decided that even if I couldn't solve any of the puzzles I wouldn't let myself feel stupid. And without that dang editor I had a more fun than I've had in awhile. So screw you, editor, you're not invited to anymore puzzle races. I'm definitely going to the next BANG. It's BANG 8 and it's in the Haight.So catchy how could I go wrong?
Here are some photos I managed to sneak in while not opening hint envelopes:
Jen and Elaine hiking downhill (from an unsolved puzzle)
my fellow Biatch, Jen
my other fellow Biatch, Elaine
Greg's team, Desert Taxi.
I've helped Greg and fellow puzzle dude Dave put together Park Challenge in Golden Gate Park before. Organizing these races (registration, putting packets together, etc.) is where my strengths lie, but when it comes to doing (or even testing) these puzzles I fall short. very short. Which is why I've always been so hesitant to join in. Put me behind a desk with some information and confused people standing before me and I'm in! But put a bunch of lines, numbers or pictures in front of my face and tell me to make sense of it and I panic. I guess what it boils down to is the human thang... no one wants to feel stupid. And I'm actually not that bad of a puzzle solver, I could just use a little practice. okay, a lot of practice.
The key for my enjoyment on Sunday was this: I left my editor at home for BANG and decided that even if I couldn't solve any of the puzzles I wouldn't let myself feel stupid. And without that dang editor I had a more fun than I've had in awhile. So screw you, editor, you're not invited to anymore puzzle races. I'm definitely going to the next BANG. It's BANG 8 and it's in the Haight.So catchy how could I go wrong?
Here are some photos I managed to sneak in while not opening hint envelopes:
Jen and Elaine hiking downhill (from an unsolved puzzle)
my fellow Biatch, Jen
my other fellow Biatch, Elaine
Greg's team, Desert Taxi.
Monday, June 07, 2004
I really should stop watching MTV
Dear Hilary Duff,
I really do wish your lips were sealed, because then you would stop destroying classic 80s songs which defined how I would rock out.
I didn't know that you had a sister... and I guess it makes more sense to sing the lyrics "our lips" with another person rather than by yourself. But did your video have to be so darn skanky?
That's your sister, and it's okay to share blouses, but it's never okay to bite. You should never sink your teeth into a sibling - especially in that weird kind-of-trying-to-be-sexy way.
In the future if you could only do covers of Backstreet Boys, Jessica Simpson and Right Said Fred songs that would be swell.
Thanks!
Love, c
p.s. Take it easy on the lip gloss, you look like you just ate at KFC.
I really do wish your lips were sealed, because then you would stop destroying classic 80s songs which defined how I would rock out.
I didn't know that you had a sister... and I guess it makes more sense to sing the lyrics "our lips" with another person rather than by yourself. But did your video have to be so darn skanky?
That's your sister, and it's okay to share blouses, but it's never okay to bite. You should never sink your teeth into a sibling - especially in that weird kind-of-trying-to-be-sexy way.
In the future if you could only do covers of Backstreet Boys, Jessica Simpson and Right Said Fred songs that would be swell.
Thanks!
Love, c
p.s. Take it easy on the lip gloss, you look like you just ate at KFC.
Friday, June 04, 2004
i'm so full i could kill myself
to which Alex replied "That's a good idea. You should do it slowly over the course of 60 or 70 years, that would really show them."
what?
Friday is a slow day for me... which lead me to browse crappy news, which lead me to read this (if you scroll down you'll find this):
ANNA NICOLE'S GHOST SEX
Busty Anna Nicole Smith once had a ghostly mate she says used to make love to her when she was living in Dallas. The blonde reality TV star never complained because her weird romps were among the best she's ever had.
She explains, "I used to think it was my boyfriend, and one day I woke up and it wasn't. It was like a spirit. I was freaked out about it, but then I was like, 'Well, you know what? He's never hurt me and he just gave me some amazing sex, so I have no problem.'"
ANNA NICOLE'S GHOST SEX
Busty Anna Nicole Smith once had a ghostly mate she says used to make love to her when she was living in Dallas. The blonde reality TV star never complained because her weird romps were among the best she's ever had.
She explains, "I used to think it was my boyfriend, and one day I woke up and it wasn't. It was like a spirit. I was freaked out about it, but then I was like, 'Well, you know what? He's never hurt me and he just gave me some amazing sex, so I have no problem.'"
Wednesday, June 02, 2004
it was a cold morning in March...
Grand Canyon at sunrise
I never finished writing about our vacation, but I do have plenty of photos; this is one of the 3057 I took at sunrise. okay, I didn't really take that many, but I did go a little overboard. And I was completely under dressed. I didn't think about how cold it would be before sunrise in the park. Luckily we had a blanket in the back of the car and Alex was kind enough to let me use it like a thick and hideous skirt over my thin and not-wind-resistant pants. A backpack also serves nicely when trying to keep your back warm.
I never finished writing about our vacation, but I do have plenty of photos; this is one of the 3057 I took at sunrise. okay, I didn't really take that many, but I did go a little overboard. And I was completely under dressed. I didn't think about how cold it would be before sunrise in the park. Luckily we had a blanket in the back of the car and Alex was kind enough to let me use it like a thick and hideous skirt over my thin and not-wind-resistant pants. A backpack also serves nicely when trying to keep your back warm.
Tuesday, June 01, 2004
so long RM, sorry I shot you
as you leave today RM, you must know, you were in my dreams last night.
I was put into a deep trance by the Democrats, and unleashed upon the country to carry out John Kerry's bidding.
You were put into an uninterrupted sleep by the Republicans, becoming a public servant for George Bush.
When I awoke 3 months later, Greg alerted me to what had been happening. You were no longer a Bush zombie, but you knew too much, and Greg made it clear that you had to be destroyed. And even though I didn't officially work for John Kerry anymore I was okay with the whole plan once the gun was handed to me.
I met you on the street, under the guise that we were going to see some dinner theatre with a group of friends. We met privately, I hugged you, asked you how you were doing and then pulled out my shiny silver gun. Aiming square for your chest I shot a bullet into your upper left thigh, to which you replied "hey... ouch". I tried to look embarrassed and excused myself. I ran to Greg and asked him to handle the situation. It was at this moment I realized I was no longer in a trance. Not only did feel sick with the thought of dealing with the guilt of killing my friend, I really didn't want to KILL MY FRIEND.
So Greg and I played it off like it was all a big joke and gave you a tourniquet. You, with a cigarette in your mouth, said it was no problem. You took the tourniquet and tied it off with aplomb while asking what dinner theatre we were going to.
I felt sad that I had shot you, but what was even sadder was the fact you were forced to work for George Bush.
I was put into a deep trance by the Democrats, and unleashed upon the country to carry out John Kerry's bidding.
You were put into an uninterrupted sleep by the Republicans, becoming a public servant for George Bush.
When I awoke 3 months later, Greg alerted me to what had been happening. You were no longer a Bush zombie, but you knew too much, and Greg made it clear that you had to be destroyed. And even though I didn't officially work for John Kerry anymore I was okay with the whole plan once the gun was handed to me.
I met you on the street, under the guise that we were going to see some dinner theatre with a group of friends. We met privately, I hugged you, asked you how you were doing and then pulled out my shiny silver gun. Aiming square for your chest I shot a bullet into your upper left thigh, to which you replied "hey... ouch". I tried to look embarrassed and excused myself. I ran to Greg and asked him to handle the situation. It was at this moment I realized I was no longer in a trance. Not only did feel sick with the thought of dealing with the guilt of killing my friend, I really didn't want to KILL MY FRIEND.
So Greg and I played it off like it was all a big joke and gave you a tourniquet. You, with a cigarette in your mouth, said it was no problem. You took the tourniquet and tied it off with aplomb while asking what dinner theatre we were going to.
I felt sad that I had shot you, but what was even sadder was the fact you were forced to work for George Bush.
Monday, May 31, 2004
life is a big...
Alex and I had a little shin-dig for RM Friday night, since he's leaving tomorrow for an internship in a land far, far away for the summer. We ate some grilly kind of foods and played some games. RM and I rocked out on Time's Up. Then the dreaded Wise or Otherwise got pulled out. This game gives me anxiety because I have a terrible time reading the answers with a straight face. Sometimes I laugh so hard I can't even get the words out; I slow the game down with a series of unintelligible,"gheeeeeeeeeegheeeeeeeee"s followed by an "I can't even reeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaad it!" with my red face and pieces of paper crumpled in my hand.
If you've never played before, the idea of the game is a lot like Balderdash. You draw a card which gives you the first half of an obscure proverb and the correct answer is on the other side of the card. The other players write down what they think sounds like a convincing answer. Everyone votes on what they think is the correct answer... hilarity ensues. I lost it again Friday night. And I like to blame it on Alex.
It was my turn to read, and the proverb was an old Yiddish saying: Life is a big...
The correct answer was "headache on a noisy street". I got through the rest of the other player's answers ("mystery", "mountain to climb", etc.) just fine, but then came Alex's which read: "Life is a big... beard, unpleasant when dirty and itchy, beeatch." I knew I wouldn't make it through. It's a good thing he added the beeatch at the end because I think without that it stood a chance for some votes, but there was no way I would have read it with a straight face, therefore making it impossible for anyone to think it was the correct answer. (And I have ruined the game for people like that before.) Everyone put up with my private giggle fest most politely, probably because I was the host. But I know it's not nice, so I'm sorry.
Jay had some good ones in there too, like "Everything has two... except Lance Armstrong" and "Every door has... knockers, and let me tell you junior, those are some nice knockers"
And let's not forget Greg's, "If thy camel should break down... hump it"
And we all know that this is not the point of the game, but who can resist when you have a captive audience?
The last one of the evening got the most laughs; There's an old Hawaiian saying "Eat 'till..." with a real answer of "the lips protrude". Alex's version: "Eat 'till...5:00 for free, after that it's 2 for 1. And try the poi!"
If you've never played before, the idea of the game is a lot like Balderdash. You draw a card which gives you the first half of an obscure proverb and the correct answer is on the other side of the card. The other players write down what they think sounds like a convincing answer. Everyone votes on what they think is the correct answer... hilarity ensues. I lost it again Friday night. And I like to blame it on Alex.
It was my turn to read, and the proverb was an old Yiddish saying: Life is a big...
The correct answer was "headache on a noisy street". I got through the rest of the other player's answers ("mystery", "mountain to climb", etc.) just fine, but then came Alex's which read: "Life is a big... beard, unpleasant when dirty and itchy, beeatch." I knew I wouldn't make it through. It's a good thing he added the beeatch at the end because I think without that it stood a chance for some votes, but there was no way I would have read it with a straight face, therefore making it impossible for anyone to think it was the correct answer. (And I have ruined the game for people like that before.) Everyone put up with my private giggle fest most politely, probably because I was the host. But I know it's not nice, so I'm sorry.
Jay had some good ones in there too, like "Everything has two... except Lance Armstrong" and "Every door has... knockers, and let me tell you junior, those are some nice knockers"
And let's not forget Greg's, "If thy camel should break down... hump it"
And we all know that this is not the point of the game, but who can resist when you have a captive audience?
The last one of the evening got the most laughs; There's an old Hawaiian saying "Eat 'till..." with a real answer of "the lips protrude". Alex's version: "Eat 'till...5:00 for free, after that it's 2 for 1. And try the poi!"
Saturday, May 29, 2004
the day after yesterday
I hardly ever write about my job here because there are so many tragic stories of people being fired for such things... and I like my job too much to take that chance. But this is so pleasant, how can I not write about it?
Yesterday my boss took me and three of my co-workers to see The Day After Tomorrow. This wasn't related to our work in anyway, it was just a nice little thank you for going to the convention two weeks ago. (And I guess because it's Memorial Day weekend and no one really wants to work that whole Friday.) Apparently he does this for our department every once in a while, and I for one, think that it's swell.
As if my job weren't cool enough to begin with, now it looks as though I get to see free movies on holiday weekends. Did I mention the bucket of popcorn he got for us, too? Rock on, boss.
I think what I enjoyed best yesterday was the fact that I secretly wanted to see that movie, but thought that it would be too embarrassing to mention it to anyone. So I figured I would wait until the DVD came out, or it came to the Parkway. But instead, there I was on opening day. Laughing my ass off at a movie that was so bad it was good.
But now I must confess that I also saw Troy. Unfortunately with my own money. It was not good. It was very bad. Alex and I weren't the only ones laughing out loud at inappropriate moments. Here's an example of some of the brilliant dialogue: "I can hunt rabbit and deer. I can feed us." Yes, there you have it, cinema at it's best. Wait a minute, did you hear that? I think it's Homer crying.
Yesterday my boss took me and three of my co-workers to see The Day After Tomorrow. This wasn't related to our work in anyway, it was just a nice little thank you for going to the convention two weeks ago. (And I guess because it's Memorial Day weekend and no one really wants to work that whole Friday.) Apparently he does this for our department every once in a while, and I for one, think that it's swell.
As if my job weren't cool enough to begin with, now it looks as though I get to see free movies on holiday weekends. Did I mention the bucket of popcorn he got for us, too? Rock on, boss.
I think what I enjoyed best yesterday was the fact that I secretly wanted to see that movie, but thought that it would be too embarrassing to mention it to anyone. So I figured I would wait until the DVD came out, or it came to the Parkway. But instead, there I was on opening day. Laughing my ass off at a movie that was so bad it was good.
But now I must confess that I also saw Troy. Unfortunately with my own money. It was not good. It was very bad. Alex and I weren't the only ones laughing out loud at inappropriate moments. Here's an example of some of the brilliant dialogue: "I can hunt rabbit and deer. I can feed us." Yes, there you have it, cinema at it's best. Wait a minute, did you hear that? I think it's Homer crying.
Thursday, May 27, 2004
happy anniversary
4 years ago today Alex and I were married. In Las Vegas, at Treasure Island (without the slutty new image). Our friends and family came from as far as Boston to share in our 7 minute ceremony followed by a reception of mediocre hors d'oeuvres and lounge music. I have to admit that it was not the wedding I had always dreamed of, but if I had to do it all again I wouldn't change too much. (I'm not going to lie and say I wouldn't have changed a thing.)
I do remember feeling like I needed to giggle during the entire ceremony. I turned to hand my flowers to my sister, who had tears in her eyes, and I felt like I was doing something wrong. Were you supposed to laugh at your own wedding? I mean, I did cry for a pretty good portion of the day prior to the evening wedding, so naturally I assumed that I would be a mess while trying to recite the vows. But there was something about the whole event that put a crazy smile on my face. Maybe it was the fact that the wedding coordinator wouldn't let Alex put his hands anywhere but by his side, an unnatural pose for anyone, but especially Alex. Maybe it was because he was lobster-red-sunburnt from walking up and down the strip all day without sunscreen. Perhaps it was the look of panic on his face (which he later confessed was because he didn't recognize my sister and thought a strange bride was walking towards him). Whatever it was I was happy and honored to have Alex by my side. We smiled at each other and I knew that everything was okay, if I laughed, cried or kept that creepy smile on my face for the whole ceremony.
Over the past four years Alex and I have had our ups and downs. And when you're a drama queen like me, the downs get pretty bad. But when I wake up in the morning and see his eyes half opened and his sleepy smile as he whispers "good morning" I know I wouldn't trade our love for anything in the whole world.
I do remember feeling like I needed to giggle during the entire ceremony. I turned to hand my flowers to my sister, who had tears in her eyes, and I felt like I was doing something wrong. Were you supposed to laugh at your own wedding? I mean, I did cry for a pretty good portion of the day prior to the evening wedding, so naturally I assumed that I would be a mess while trying to recite the vows. But there was something about the whole event that put a crazy smile on my face. Maybe it was the fact that the wedding coordinator wouldn't let Alex put his hands anywhere but by his side, an unnatural pose for anyone, but especially Alex. Maybe it was because he was lobster-red-sunburnt from walking up and down the strip all day without sunscreen. Perhaps it was the look of panic on his face (which he later confessed was because he didn't recognize my sister and thought a strange bride was walking towards him). Whatever it was I was happy and honored to have Alex by my side. We smiled at each other and I knew that everything was okay, if I laughed, cried or kept that creepy smile on my face for the whole ceremony.
Over the past four years Alex and I have had our ups and downs. And when you're a drama queen like me, the downs get pretty bad. But when I wake up in the morning and see his eyes half opened and his sleepy smile as he whispers "good morning" I know I wouldn't trade our love for anything in the whole world.
Tuesday, May 25, 2004
sick and tired
The worst thing about being sick is not remembering what it's like to be well.
That sad, sad feeling of knowing that today could possibly be a great day, hell, even an okay day, but because of my inability to breathe through my nose or swallow anything that is not a liquid, it's a crappy day. And will continue to be one.
With my mood in the gutter and aching joints I sat my desk all day and thought about how nice it was outside and how I should take a walk. I even ate lunch at my desk. That's how pathetic I was today. Then Greg and I walked over to the Safeway and bought candy. That didn't even help.
you know it's bad when candy can't even get me out of the rut.
That sad, sad feeling of knowing that today could possibly be a great day, hell, even an okay day, but because of my inability to breathe through my nose or swallow anything that is not a liquid, it's a crappy day. And will continue to be one.
With my mood in the gutter and aching joints I sat my desk all day and thought about how nice it was outside and how I should take a walk. I even ate lunch at my desk. That's how pathetic I was today. Then Greg and I walked over to the Safeway and bought candy. That didn't even help.
you know it's bad when candy can't even get me out of the rut.
Thursday, May 20, 2004
the wonderful world of TiVo
I'm not sure what it is about TiVo, but ever since I got it for my birthday I've been watching a lot less TV. I think this is due to the fact that I know TiVo is watching TV for me. And when I do get around to watching TV sometimes I'll watch half a show, realize that I'm not interested in it, and ERASE it. That's right, just like not finishing a meal when you're full, which is a really difficult concept for me to grasp. Because if it's there you should finish it, right?
Being a pack rat I had a hard time adjusting to TiVo, because I was compelled to watch everything it had saved for me. All of it. It got bad, I had about 30 - 40 shows piled up in there. I got overwhelmed. I felt like I had a part time job. Then one day I went crazy and watched the first 5 minutes of Clean Sweep (where they reveal the disgusting, junk filled rooms) and then went all the way to the end to see the finished product. Instant gratification. At first I felt like I was cheating, but after I did it for 3 more episodes I figured out that's what TiVo is all about, giving the viewer complete control. I felt powerful.
So now I pick 2 days a week to watch TV and that's plenty for me. And get this, I work out while I watch TV. Now we're talking about efficiency.
Being a pack rat I had a hard time adjusting to TiVo, because I was compelled to watch everything it had saved for me. All of it. It got bad, I had about 30 - 40 shows piled up in there. I got overwhelmed. I felt like I had a part time job. Then one day I went crazy and watched the first 5 minutes of Clean Sweep (where they reveal the disgusting, junk filled rooms) and then went all the way to the end to see the finished product. Instant gratification. At first I felt like I was cheating, but after I did it for 3 more episodes I figured out that's what TiVo is all about, giving the viewer complete control. I felt powerful.
So now I pick 2 days a week to watch TV and that's plenty for me. And get this, I work out while I watch TV. Now we're talking about efficiency.
Monday, May 17, 2004
those signs are fluorescent for a reason
Last night Alex and I took the Matrix into the city with a backseat full of passengers. RM, Greg and Britt accompanied us to see Shaolin Soccer in San Francisco. I still don't know my way around the city, and let's face it, I never will. I'm directionally challenged and if a backseat driver wants to tell me what to do, my heart fills with glee. Britt and RM directed us there and RM gave us a good idea of where to park and so we did. Along the street we chose with plenty of parking there were signs with fluorescent pink paint posted on the meters telling us not to park there from 6 - 10. It was 5:00 at this point, and we all agreed that since Bay to Breakers had already finished we were good to go. We walked to the movie theatre and passed plenty of parking spaces without bright pink signs. We saw the movie and laughed a lot. The kid behind me liked to lean forward and he breathed in my hair a lot. He also felt sad when he didn't understand why the rest of the audience was laughing and he wasn't, so eventually he also laughed a lot... when no one else was. We ate a lot of popcorn.
Then we walked back to the car. Or shall I say, the spot where the car once was. My heart sank, having had my car stolen twice, I have a general fear of returning and not having the car happily waiting for me. Luckily because I am so skilled in not having my car where I left it I didn't panic. As it turns out if we had all looked very closely at the signs that could blind us with pinkness we would have noticed the PM next to the 6 -10. Alex and I simultaneously dialed the tow number listed below the words warning us to not park there in the first place. RM walked home and Britt and Greg led us (via bus) to the place where our car was patiently waiting for us. Greg and Britt also generously donated money to help us get our car out of jail. 171 bucks later we were back on our way to the East Bay.
expensive lesson learned... always read the signs carefully. especially when they are bright pink.
Then we walked back to the car. Or shall I say, the spot where the car once was. My heart sank, having had my car stolen twice, I have a general fear of returning and not having the car happily waiting for me. Luckily because I am so skilled in not having my car where I left it I didn't panic. As it turns out if we had all looked very closely at the signs that could blind us with pinkness we would have noticed the PM next to the 6 -10. Alex and I simultaneously dialed the tow number listed below the words warning us to not park there in the first place. RM walked home and Britt and Greg led us (via bus) to the place where our car was patiently waiting for us. Greg and Britt also generously donated money to help us get our car out of jail. 171 bucks later we were back on our way to the East Bay.
expensive lesson learned... always read the signs carefully. especially when they are bright pink.
Wednesday, May 12, 2004
my annoying return to LA
Here I sit in the Hollywood Renaissance Hotel with a cup of Wolfgang Puck signature coffee (brewed right here in my room) hoping that's the cure for this killer headache. I'm here for E3, a convention I would never go to if it weren't for my job.
I probably would never go to any convention if it weren't for my job, because there's nothing I abhor more than trying to wedge my way through a giant crowd of people who all want to look at the same thing. And these people are so interested in what is being displayed that they forget there are other people in the convention center, never mind their immediate personal space. The biggest human traffic jam I hit today was the one in front of the booth with the women with the biggest chests and shortest skirts. The best part about these women is that their job was to look good. That's it.
"hey, what do you do for a living?"
"I look good!"
awesome.
One of these women might have been severely dehydrated due to the amount of posing she was doing. She was working it. I might say that she violently displayed her cleavage. Some men were afraid to have their picture taken with her. It was fascinating, yet annoying, because I was working and I had places to go.
I was also kind of cranky because I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep last night due to the loudest cell phone talker in the room next to me. With a thin adjoining door between us I could hear him open a hard candy. I thought the hard candy wrappers were annoying until I heard his cell phone play the Nokia song followed by a rousing HELLO for everyone in the hall to hear. He shouted many things that evening until 1:45am, unfortunately it was all Japanese, so I couldn't even get any dish.
Only 2 more days of convention... 2 more days of smashing my limbs into strangers.
I probably would never go to any convention if it weren't for my job, because there's nothing I abhor more than trying to wedge my way through a giant crowd of people who all want to look at the same thing. And these people are so interested in what is being displayed that they forget there are other people in the convention center, never mind their immediate personal space. The biggest human traffic jam I hit today was the one in front of the booth with the women with the biggest chests and shortest skirts. The best part about these women is that their job was to look good. That's it.
"hey, what do you do for a living?"
"I look good!"
awesome.
One of these women might have been severely dehydrated due to the amount of posing she was doing. She was working it. I might say that she violently displayed her cleavage. Some men were afraid to have their picture taken with her. It was fascinating, yet annoying, because I was working and I had places to go.
I was also kind of cranky because I hadn't gotten a lot of sleep last night due to the loudest cell phone talker in the room next to me. With a thin adjoining door between us I could hear him open a hard candy. I thought the hard candy wrappers were annoying until I heard his cell phone play the Nokia song followed by a rousing HELLO for everyone in the hall to hear. He shouted many things that evening until 1:45am, unfortunately it was all Japanese, so I couldn't even get any dish.
Only 2 more days of convention... 2 more days of smashing my limbs into strangers.
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