Not so new resolutions. . .

I figure if you try to change yourself before New Year's Eve, you say that your goals are not resolutions. Resolutions tend to suggest that you'll be serious about something for January and then give up by February. At least that's been my experience with resolutions in the past.

However, I think if you decide you want to change your life before New Year's and you start acting before New Year's, you can classify your goals as goals. I also figure if I write them on my blog and have my friends, family members and strangers, I'd be held more accountable, as well. At the very least more people can give me shit if I don't meet them.

So, here goes. Here's what I want to do for 2006-2007:

1. In January, I am going to participate in my own little writing boot camp with two of my writing group friends. I have a goal to write 30,000 words by the end of the month. That's 1,000 words or about 4 pages per day. It all started with a group that already participate in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). Apparently it's November and I missed it, but I liked the idea of committing to writing a set amount of words in a month. My friend Terry loaned me Bird by Bird, a great book on writing by Anne Lamont. One of her first goals is writing a shitty first draft. I always start to censor myself about 5 pages into something and then lose interest, so I figure the word count will at least get me to power through it. Plus at the end of the month, I can say that I have my novel, even if it is in a shitty form. Besides, writing makes me happy and being held accountable for it would actually give me no excuses not to do it.
   
2. I need to lose 60 pounds. There's a personal side to this challenge that is to remain my own motivation, but the less personal side is that I have a weight problem. However, I love food and have decided that I'm going to tackle the exercise portion of this goal before I hit the food portion. So, I'm back to walking every day and have started listing my times for my usual route as to increase the walking to a quicker pace and eventually to a semi-jog. I'm also going to tackle a beast that I've given up a long time ago: the scale. My friend Lara said that she needed the scale to see her progress and while I hid from the scale in the past, I know that I'm the same way. I need to see cold hard numbers. Of course, that's going to require buying a scale and I won't really be able to do that until mid-month. Hopefully by then, I'll have dropped a pound or so.
3. I'm going to be happy with my career. This is a little ambiguous and will remain so until I figure out what I want to do professionally. However, I will take steps to do so every week.

Mostly, I just want to live life and realize that my life is not in front of the TV (unless the Colts or Hoosiers are playing). I'll give updates but with my word count quota for January, expect them to be less. And wish me luck!

It's Killing Me Slowly

Christmas that is. Or the Holidays. Hannukah. Channukah. Kwaanza. Whatever the hell you call it. It's draining me. I'm had to stuff Christmas cards, got ot Christmas parties, go to business dinners, buy the last of the gifts that people are sure to either hate or not really care about, wrap aforementioned gifts, ship aforementioned gifts as Chef's family is out of state, make cookies for a party, have two lunches for business, pick up forgotten gifts, pull hair out.

Now we're all really just ready for the long ass weekend. Everyone left my office about 30 minutes ago. I'm contemplating taking Friday off for no other reason than I just don't need or want to be here. Of course, I'm sure something will come up tomorrow to prevent me from doing one of the two things that I need to get done to get out of here.

Besides waiting for work to let out, I'm also dying a little each day waiting to open Patrick's present. He brought it home yesterday and laid it in plain sight (wrapped up, of course). He told me that I could open it before Christmas if I wanted. Of course I want to. However, if I open it up, I'll have nothing to open on Christmas. The various arms of my family have become so accommodating to everyone's schedule that we celebrate Christmas on the 23rd and 24th and have nothing to do on the actual day. It's insane.

So in the name of holiday propriety, I'm not going to open it. At least tonight. I can't make any promises about tomorrow.

To appease Presh. . .

Here's my third blog of the month, presh. It may not live up to the standard of the rest, but remember that you asked for it.

Today I bought wine completely for the kitsch factor. I've bought alcohol in the past because it had candy in the bottom or because it was the "in" drink (my one and only mojito) or because it was flavored funny. I have never bought WINE on the kitsch factor until today. You can't really get too kitschy with wine because it's grapes. That's pretty much it.


But today, I bought Bitch wine for my writing group party tonight. It would generally be a conversation starter, but if anyone reads this between now and 6:30, I'm sure I just ruined the surprise. Since only about 5 people visit this site a day, I think I might be safe.

So I'll bring Bitch, drink Bitch, and start to bitch. It's the circle of life. Kind of like pooping. Except verbally.

Four days and counting. . .

While Christmas is a week away, I choose to count down until something far more important to me: my last day of work for 2006. One of the perks of my job is a lot of time off and our time off this year goes from 3:30 on Friday until 8:30 a.m. on Tuesday, January 2nd. And don't think I'm not excited.

I've actually taken two vacations in 2006, up from my normal 0 vacations. I think this has wet my appetite for more time off. I find myself and my 6 weeks acrued time off having a hard time getting up on Mondays. Then I begin to think that with all my time off, I could theoretically take off every Monday for 30 weeks of the year. With holidays, that would be almost like having a 4 day week every week. How cool would that be? Plus I acrue 2 more vacation days every month, so really I'd only be using half of my paid time off. This is sounding like a better plan every second I rationalize it.

My shopping is done and I'm preparing mentally for the big day. Hope you all have gotten shitty Dirty Santa gifts like I have!

Can you be "ticked on"?

One of our local neighborhood newspapers runs a section called "Ticked off!". This section allows people to write in and comment on something that makes them mad. Then the paper publishes their rant without attaching a name to it. That kind of anonymity makes for the worst kind of airing of prejudices. Luckily, that makes for the BEST kind of reading.

Please read my new favorite letter of all time and make a note of how many factual mistakes there are in it.

Okay, I'm not even going to comment on the person's opinion because everyone can have an opinion. I'm just going to comment on the factual mistakes. My favorite being that Mexicans are pole valuting into the country. I've never seen a Mexican pole vaulting champion, but if you know of one, please let me know.

Naturally my favorite comment is the line about English, "If it was good enough for Jesus, it should be good enough for them." Lord knows that English was Jesus's first language. I mean, come on. Phonetically, the words just sound the same. Jesus. English. It's God's will.

Obviously I'm hoping this is a joke. Swampy likes to go on the Internet message boards and spew the most racist and backwards things to rile up the public. It's good reading and good fun. I sincerely hope this is the efforts of someone with the same kind of humor. However, I'm really doubting this is meant as a joke.

Again, opinions aside, its people like these that make me so glad we have free speech in this country.

I wouldn't say I "missed it", Bob

Before I get to my usual rantings, I have another career related one: I got passed over for a promotion. My organization is merging with another and with it more positions were created. Instead of firing anyone they created a whole new level of confusing middle management positions, of which I was told we could apply for. However, yesterday I got the call that not only was I not applying for one, I wasn't getting one.

It was one of those "I understand why this person got the position, but I don't agree with it" scenarios. We've had three positions in our office where seniority had NOTHING to do with the promotion. The less senior person got the position in all three cases. Yet in my department, I was told that seniority was the deciding factor and the person who was chosen had 12 months more time in his job. This despite the fact that I had helped him achieve more than 30 percent of his goals AND served as his leader on three separate projects, all over the last year. He did not step up to lead once.

I really have nothing against the guy. He said all the right things when I talked to him today, but its just awkward knowing that now I have to REPORT to him. I'm disappointed and my ego is hurt because this is the FIRST opportunity in 3 years that our department has had for promotion. I really don't want to have to wait around until 2009-2010 to get another chance to advance.

On a brighter note, the organization did admit to underpaying me by 11 percent for the last two years. So I got an 11 percent raise today. Yesterday I was worth 11 percent less. Although I'm very happy, its still hard to swallow that I've been THAT much underpaid for the last twoyears. My raise is retroactive, but not two years retroactive.

So, that's what's going on in my life. My unappreciation for the good things that happen.

Wasn't only a few months ago. . .

This is the post where I get all crazy and explain to people why we never believe it when a celebrity goes on TV to deny, apologize or address rumors. It's because they lie.

Only a few months ago, Britney was telling Matt Lauer that she and Kevin were great and that she had Sean Preston on her lap while driving because she was country. We knew you were lying then and it only took a couple of months, a few breaking up text messages and an appearance on David Letterman to back it up.

However, one thing Britney did cry and cry about was the paparazzi's intrusion into her life. Look, I can't proclaim to know what it's like to have people following me around all day and asking annoying questions because I don't have kids. The paparazzi are just like an annoying daycare swarming you at all times but instead of "Why?" they ask "Are you and Kevin getting a divorce?" over and over and over again.

But isn't it convenient that now that she's single and ready to mingle, Spears ends up in front of the flashbulbs again with Paris Hilton. Britney's in between publicists right now, but even an amateur knows that a night out with Paris will totally get a lot of attention. And it did. It was even on the Today show this morning. Their friendship of convenience is getting more press than Britney's cover of "My Prerogative."

In other news of the worthless, I'm happy to hear that the Cowboys cut their losses and released Kicker Mike Vanderjagt, aka Jimmy Canada. The most accurrate kicker in football except for when it really matters was an astounding 13 for 18 this season (72 percent). Not only that, but two of his misses were against his former team. I was so happy that Chef had to get me to stop repeatedly rewinding the Tivo to hear the thunk. It's been years, but apparently Vanderjagt still hasn't learned that "an idiot kicker" is not as important as. . . well, nearly every other player on the team.

It was the night before Thanksgiving. . .

And all through the apartment, the only thing I can hear is Chef snoring.

It's been crazy lately. Our branch of non-profit is merging with the Florida branch which means that I get to travel to the Sunshine State. I was in Orlando last week and although I was bombarded with Mickey, I never really got to leave the hotel. I did, however, get stopped in the security line at the airport. Apparently my underwire bra was enough to set off the metal detector. It happens all the time and my only comment is that it takes a LOT of engineering to hold my boys up.

I also had another incident in the Orlando airport. As I was walking, a lady dragging her wheeled suitcase behind her clipped me and I went tumbling. It was my second best fall ever. I went on all fours and it was in slow motion. The six co-workers I was traveling with were all concerned, but none of them laughed at the time, which shook me a little. I mean, I fell. It was funny. Laugh.
My best fall involved falling down a flight of stairs with my skirt going over my head to expose my thong. It was a couple of years ago, ladies. We were all wearing thongs then, so don't give me shit about it. Nonetheless, it still remains my best fall.

I came back from Orlando and I have to say that Chef surprised me. He had cleaned the apartment, cooked Chicken Parmesan, uncorked the wine, lit candles, dressed up and totally pampered me when I got home. Sometimes leaving has its advantages, if only that I get wonderful treatment when I return.

Tomorrow is Turkey Day. I'm only not panicking because I've already taken care of six Christmas gifts. Normally at this time of year, I haven't even started yet. Actually, I've taken care of six Christmas gifts and two birthday gifts. Mostly because as a January baby, I know the pains of getting the combined gifts and I really feel for December borns. Talk about stealing your thunder.

I hope everyone has a nice holiday. I plan on eating a lot of non-traditional items as my families don't really do the whole turkey thing. However, I know that pumpkin pie will show up in my stomach at some point over the long weekend. If nothing else, Chef will make me one.

Here comes the sun, do do do do

Isn't it amazing how much better the sun shining makes a day?

Yesterday and a few days before, it's been raining. Not a big deal until you consider the rain one more reason that God hates you. Okay, so I had a bad day on Tuesday. It started out okay. I had lots of errands to run and two conference calls and a meeting to work around. Plus I had to vote. That's where things got ugly.

I went to the voting place feeling like it was my lucky day. The lines were amazingly short. One of the election volunteers even commented on us being so lucky. Then on my way out, I helped an old lady carrying an umbrella and her cane down some steps and to her car. The combination of the old lady and the voting made me feel like super-citizen. I was feeling so good about myself.

Until I was driving down the alley near my house to pick something up before I headed back to work. The rain had made the most treacherous pothole in the alley invisible. It just looked like a big puddle and in my glow of good deeds, I didn't remember to avoid it. I hit that sucker so hard that it blew my tire out. I hope that whoever I voted for will fix this sucker!

Anyway, I barely made it to the parking lot of the apartment complex when I started to go hysterical. Car troubles bug me out more than nearly anything else. So, Chef comes out of the apartment and begins to change my tire. I love Chef all the time, but on days when its raining, I'm in work attire and he's outside changing my tire for me, I begin to really appreciate what love is.

Anyway, he gets the car jacked up, the bad tire off and what happens? The spare is flat. So me and my friend Julie take the tire to a service station about 1/10th of a mile away from the apartment. They fix the flat and Patrick changes the tire like a Nascar pit crew. I almost think he wants a rivot gun. Considering this is the second time he's changed my tire for me, he probably deserves one.

I go back to work 30 minutes late for the meeting I'm supposed to be in. My friend had told two of the people in the meeting why I was going to be late, but apparently they didn't pass it along, so people thought I was just rude.

I leave work to home and Chef is cooking dinner for us, like the cute, cuddly and wonderful boyfriend that he is. I stop at the market to get dessert and vegetable oil (there were no crappy jigs or tampons in my purse this time--that one's for my girls). I have to fight the 45 other people circling the tiny parking lot for the 5 open spaces. I get one, get downpoured on on the way in, get my stuff and go home only to realize that I hadn't gotten the vegetable oil afterall. I nearly cried when I realized that I would have to repeat the process.

When I REALLY got home, I was wet with rain and really tired. Of course, Chef again came to the rescue (have I mentioned my knight in shining armor?) and had a cocktail in my hand in no time. From there on, it was a good night.

That's the long, boring version of Election Day for Ashley.

Sushi, Football and Paula Deen

Because of all the extra time I'd been spending at work surrounding our large event, my boss graciuosly offered for me to "work at home" one day this week. This translates into him knowing that I will be at home and the work part is optional. He's very nice that way.

So on Friday, Chef and I ran some errands, grabbed some sushi for lunch and dropped off a sandwich for a friend of mine that was waiting in line to see Paula Deen. For those of you who don't watch Food Network, and shame on you, Paula is a good ole Southern broad whose recipes are delicious but also induce almost instanteous heart disease. We're talking whole sticks of butter and a dozen eggs. Of course, down here, she's a God. My friend started waiting at 10 a.m. and the signing didn't begin until 1 p.m. She was 150 people back.

Paula's well and good, but I'd have to say that my favorite shows are Everyday Italian (Giada is soothing to me even though she's skinny), Rachel Ray's show (although 30 minutes is a crock of shit) and Good Eats (this is campy it's funny--kind of like the old Batmans). Sandra Lee is my least favorite because it seems like she's a substance abuser. No one needs 300 recipes for cocktails and some of the stuff is so ridiculous I think she must have been smoking crack when she came up with it.

All that aside, I got to spend a leisurely weekend alternately spending time with Chef and watching football when he was working. It was glorious and almost perfect.

Are we really that stupid?

I hate getting political. I honestly believe that politics are like religion. You can't really convert someone away from their beliefs but only make someone understand your point of view.

However, in these times, it's really hard not to comment on politics. It's November and unless you live under a rock or watch Tivo exclusively, you've been bombarded with political ads. And this year's ads have been pretty nasty.

But its not the ads so much that piss me off. Anyone with half a brain realizes that advertising is at its worst in the hands of any politician and his or her crew. What makes me mad is how every little political blip now becomes the first 30 minutes of the Today show each morning.

First there was the big blow up over Kerry's "joke." It wasn't a joke, John Kerry. Jokes are funny and comedians usually despise all politicians. So unless he's become self-hating, I think we can all agree Kerry's statement was a stab at the president. People are smart enough to get it. Well, most people are. Having every other political party point out that Kerry and all democrats think that soldiers are stupid essentially makes me think that people believe Americans are all gullible.

Or at least that we think words are more hurtful than being a sexual predator. I have to say that I think soliciting kids over the Internet is a lot creepier than just about anything. Especially when that person was sponsoring legislation to prevent the very act they were taking part in. I'm talking to you, Mr. Foley.

Besides, everyone knows that Democrats are sexier. No one ever says they want a nice piece of elephant. I can't take credit for that. A friend at work told me about a t-shirt that said that on it.

But then again, that's just my opinion. And the great thing is that America is that my opinion counts just as much as everyone else's. It counts for one vote. Which I plan on doing on Tuesday. And then I can go back to watching regular TV. And in the end, isn't that what we all hope for?

For Halloween, I'm going to be annoyed

I don't know why it surprises me, because at this point it really shouldn't. At this point, I need to either quit bitching or get another job. It's not like I haven't tried on both accounts; I'm just not very lucky.

Today my co-workers went to lunch and then to a local game place to celebrate a huge event that we had on Saturday. The catch was that everyone that even remotely worked on the event was invited to join them. . .except me. I did all the publicity, did a media tour for two days before it, sold sponsorship on it and was at the damn event. Yet none of that was memorable enough to score an invite. Okay, I take that back. I did get invited; just as they were on the way out the door. Not last week like everyone else.

Yes, I'm bitter. And I'm also stupid. This is about fifth time something of this nature has happened. I wasn't invited to the Christmas party. Didn't get to go to the Thanksgiving shindig. Was not welcome at the same little swaray last year. I should be used to it. But honestly, it just pisses me off that I work so hard for people that could care less.

Now that that's been vented. The only thing that has brightened my dad today has been a van paintly EXACTLY like the Mystery Machine from Scooby Doo with a guy dressed as Shaggy driving it. Oddly enough, it reminded me of my brother.

Where do you find a Playboy party in the center of political debate?

Duh! You can't have a Senate race without accusing one side of going to a Playboy party. The single male candidate in this state said he didn't go to the Mansion, but went to a Superbowl party sponsored by Playboy in January. His direct defense: "I like football and I like women. So I went."

Of course instead of talking about practical issues, such as gay marriage, Iraq or stem cell research, we've resorted to hearing about a dude's bitchin' spring break. Sounds like the nerdy candidate is jealous.

I'm so ready for election season to be over with. It should be interesting, because I do have a vague interest in politics. At least enough of an interest to vote, which is more than I can say for the majority of asses my age.

On another note, I'm preparing for our big fundraiser this weekend. I will again be escorting a weight loss celebrity around the town, hitting various media and elementary schools. It would be fun or at least a change of pace if it wasn't so damn tedious and repetitive. I've heard the story so many times, I know it by heart. Besides the days are really long and I'm already exhausted. On the bright side, it will be over on Saturday and my next big event isn't for a few more months. Yeah, a respite.

Oh and Go Cardinals! Kenny Rogers sucks and his chicken wasn't all that good, despite whatever Kramer felt. However, Kenny did have some damn good Mac 'N Cheese. They only have one location now and its in California. Not Detroit.

Babies are the New Souvenirs

Do you remember when you'd go on vacation and bring back a lighter, some jewelry, maybe a little piece of art as a souvenir? So, when did children become the hottest souvenirs?

We know about Angelina Jolie's penchant for having her own little Benetton ad ready at all times. If you don't know, you must have missed the 150 jokes about it on Saturday Night Live. I understand about wanting to help out the impoverished, but wouldn't it be better done as a whole and not just one at a time?

And Madonna's adoption also pisses me off because that child HAS a father. Are we sending the message that culture is not nearly as important as money? Would you rather your children know who they are and where they came from or be raised by a rich person? I wonder if we, as Americans, have lost a true sense of culture.

Or perhaps this is our new culture. It's based off of our learnings from the 80s. Apparently the master of America's new outlook on life is Diff'rent Strokes.

On another note, I saw perhaps the funniest thing on a car since the "This truck's too low for a fat ho" incident. Swinging from a chain wrapped through a truck hitch were two oversized testicles with a silver plating. It was like the car was a dog and I was staring straight up its ass. Unfortunately, camera phones were not made for moments like these. However, I believe this site has them for sale if there are any interested buyers. Beware, it is adult content.

You Can't Spell Class without The U

Yes, it's nearly 5 days since the brawl between the University of Miami and Florida International, but it's still fun to talk about. Mostly because this is the most attention Miami has gotten in a while for anything related to the football team. I honestly think this must have been Larry Coker's way of getting scouts to check his kids out for the NFL. At least some got some attention.

But was is enough? Probably not. We have to admit that in the real world if someone stomped on someone else's head, they'd not have to sit out a week at their rec league softball team. They'd get jail time and something worse. Even the NFL put harsher sanctions on Albert Haynesworth and he didn't even start a brawl. Isn't the whole point of college to prepare people for the world outside of school? Then why should people face much less stringent restrictions for their actions than they would on the street.

Besides the fact this incident also got a sports commentator sacked for his take on the brawl. Something about not going into the OB (Orange Bowl) and disrespecting. I understand patriotism. I understand school spirit. But I've never in my life been willing to lose a job for either.

On another note, we must celebrate! Non-married households outnumber married households for the first time in history. Encouraging news for those of us living in sin and benefiting from domestic partnership insurance.

We Didn't Even Keep Score

Remember playing t-ball when you were a kid? You'd go, get a cool t-shirt jersey and smack the ball off a t. Then you'd claim victory in the end because no one kept score. The best part of the game was racing for your free coke (I always got a suicide--a delightful mixture of all the flavors our concession stand had to offer WHICH included Big Red).

Now there are t-ball play-offs?? Apparently a youth baseball coach in Pennsylvania (which has been the happenin' state of news lately) paid a player on his team to throw a ball at one of his teammates. The purpose? To injure the teammate, an autistic child, so that he couldn't play in the game. Why? Because the autistic kid wasn't as good as the other players and might've hurt their chances to win . . . a little league play off game.

The absurdity of it all takes me aback. Especially since the guy just got sentenced to prison time for the scandal. Is a little league game worth 18 months in prison? What do you tell the other guys that you got put in for ? Because saying you paid a kid $25 to bean an autistic child probably wouldn't win you a lot of street cred in prison.

The coach, Mark Downs, looked like the kid who never got a trophy as a child. If only he'd have heard about Jason McElwain. McElwain, also autistic, was the manager of his high school's basketball team. As a senior, the coach played him as a reward for all his hard work. McElwain went in and scored 20 points in 4 minutes. I'm a sucker for sentimental sports stories and this is definitely one of them.

On another note, I'm breaking out like I'm wearing a Crisco mask at night. What the hell? The last time I broke out this badly was Precious's wedding. Damn!

Damn You, Terrell Owens

For those of you that hate my sports blogs, be warned: This is one of them.

I'm pissed at Terrell Owens. Most of the sporting world is and most of the fans that don't live in Philadelphia or Dallas are, as well. He's a textbook case of how public relations can work for anybody. Get your name in the papers enough and people will start to think you're better than you really are. He's branding himself and not the kind of brand that frats use for "fun". Unfortunately, he might have household recognition, so his plan is working.

No one argues that Terrell Owens is a good receiver. Notice that I said good. There are receivers that are great. Take Marvin Harrison, who entered the league the same year as T.O. He has more years with over a thousand yards in receiving than T.O. He has more games played (no suspensions to deal wtih) and been noting but a strong and silent leader.

But that's not the reason I don't like Terrell Owens. I don't like Terrell Owens because all the attention he gets is overshadowing the one other nutjob on the Cowboys: Mike Vanderjagt aka Jimmy Canada. Jimmy can't get any attention for his mouthing off at quarterbacks or poor performance if Terrell's taking the spotlight off of him.

I can admit that Jimmy Canada is the most accurate kicker in football history. That little stat comes on every time he prances out onto the field. What I don't see flashing is how many kicks he's made in play-offs. I can remember two play off game-winning kicks (one against the Steelers of course and another against the Dolphins) that he shanked. Of course, when the team loses a play off game by more than a field goal, he has no problem placing blame on others. When it comes down to three points and he misses, he has no problem pointing the finger at others. (Can you tell I'm still bitter?)

So, T.O stand down for a while and let M.V. be the a-hole of the Cowboys for a while.

Two Stories to Illustrate Why I'm Not ready for Kids (or want kids instead of a gun)

Usually I can spend a mere two to three hours with my niece and nephew to realize that kids aren't in the cards for me. . .yet. I'm not ruling them out as a possibility, but when I start to imagine grand world trips, I know where my heart is leaning. One or none at this point, people.

Then I read delightful little stories that we pass off as news and become even more scared and horrified. First there's the woman that used her child as an object to beat her boyfriend with. I've been exceptionally mad at Patrick, but I'd like to think that my baby wouldn't be used as a bat. Maybe that's just me. But the possibility still is out there enough to scare me.

Then there's the foster mother that's trying to give her child back. She adopted him and now wants to unadopt him. Apparently he had an extensive history of abuse, mental health problems and suicide attempts that the STATE NEVER TOLD HER.

I understand that a child has a right to privacy, but when he is a threat to others and this woman spends her life adopting foster children, then something needs to be said. She only found out any of it because as a 12 year old, he sexually molested a 6 year old and 2 year old. While taking him to his trial, a caseworker showed her his file. That's just not cool and yet another reason while I don't have the patience or sainthood needed for foster kids.

So, basically, the media is starting to scare women sterile. They better be careful before we all catch on.

Well, I must now go home to change clothes for an event I totally forgot about. Monday night events are like that. You have so much focused on the weekend that when someone says "Are you excited about tonight?" and you draw a blank, you know your weekend was good. Mine was fabulous. I drove up to Greyskull, hung out with He-Man and She-Ra, Precious and Mr. Precious, and Swampy and Swampette. I only wish Chef could've rounded out the bunch.

Lizzie Borden was apparently very graceful

I've been noticing quite a few ads lately touting a new ballet around town. It's based on the story of Lizzie Borden, the graceul little girl that allegedly murdered her parents with an axe. This feel-good pre-cursor to the Menendez brothers is now being plie'd around town like it's nothing. Do you think in 100 years someone will come up with a ballet based on Ted Bundy?

Is it vain to want a web site? I'm thinking of starting one where I can have more options with interactivity and more chances to stand out. Some asshole took my brilliantmediocrity.com, which he started after me. I have no proof that he took my name, but the dude is a geology major from UT. I'm just saying.

I've come up with some alternative domain names. Basically, it would just be a hobby for me to spew my rhetoric into the nation. Perhaps my own sports section, celebrity section and then my own musings. Some feedback on this would be nice. If I build it, would anyone come?

Elmo, Pancakes and a Rebel Flag

Have you ever just looked at the pictures on the front page of a newspaper and not tried to put them in context? Just look at the paper and don't read headlines. Don't glance at cutlines. Just look at the pictures and then tell me that corporate journalism hasn't contributed to the crappyness of some media outlets. Particularly, my media outlet.

I love newspapers. I loved them so much that growing up there wasn't anything else I wanted to be but a writer at a newspaper. But I'm not. I'm in PR which in college sounded like the eqivalent to selling your soul. I was actually required to read a book called "Toxic Sludge is good for You." The whole thing made me realize that PR people can be the most deceitful people in the world. So, I chose to offset selling my soul with selling it cheaply for a non-profit. That way at least the message I was pushing was similiar totoxic sludge: good for you.

But I digress.

Today's paper had, above the fold mind you, a picture of an Elmo doll, a picture of a Confederate war reenacter in full garb standing in front of a Confederate flag, and pancakes. Please bear in mind that I don't live in a small town. It's a major metropolitan area. So in 24-hours, I find it hard to believe that the most important stories we have to offer were as follows:

• TMX Elmo is the this year's hottest Christmas toy and all stores are sold out of it. Replace TMX Elmo with Xbox 360, Tickle Me Elmo, Furby, Cabbage Patch Kids, etc. and you have the same story every year. It doesn't need to be on the front page.
• Confederate reenacter is pissed because they won't let him use a real gun or wave the confederate flag at a public Civil War reenactment. Maybe it's just me, but the idea of having a man who dresses up for fun and clings to the hope of one day proudly waving the confederate flag again, having a loaded weapon in the middle of a big crowd seems like inviting trouble. It's a government event, buddy. Deal with it.
• Pancakes: It's what's for dinner. This wasn't an actual article, but just touting an article in the Living section about Breakfast being the new Dinner. I shit you not. Didn't elementary schools figure that out when they began their "Upside Down Day" experiment? Scrambled egg tostadas don't seem that revolutionary to me.

I'm just tired of getting everyone else's news. All the papers in the country seem to be running the same stories with the exception of 4-5 local stories they plop in for good measure. I don't want stories about a party thrown by a local magazine that happens to be owned by the same company as the paper it was printed in.

Synergy is BAD, people. Not everything needs to be cross-promoted.

People I'm Scared of and People I'm beginning to Talk Like

What do you do after the trip of a lifetime? Get your pictures back from snapfish, wade through the stack of papers and mementos, and decide to start a scrapbook. The word scrapbook conjures up images of suburban mothers posing their children at sporting events so that they have the right vertical image to finish a certain sports-themed page. It kind of creeps me out.

I was no less creeped out when I went to the local Michael's on a Saturday afternoon. She-Ra, I don't know how you managed not to use your powers in Greyskull when you worked at the Michael's, but DAMN it was scary. Old ladies were muttering to themselves and shaking their head at the sale items. One lady was chanting to herself "Yeah, it would look good, but it would be worth the hours of taking all the leaves off?" I think she was waiting for someone to come up, put a hand on her shoulder and say "It would SO be worth it."

Then there was the scrapbooking section of the store. It was three aisles of crap I can't believe people buy. There was a package of miniature Euros that actually cost more to buy than the Euros inside of it. People are insane. Craft people have now officially taken over the top spot as the scariest people I know. They narrowly bumped off rednecks, but we'll see how soon it will take the necks to reclaim their spot.

Speaking of reclaiming things, I need to reclaim my real voice. I started talking like a co-worker in mocking fashion last week and it has since escalated. Not only do I mock the person to his or her face, but I can't help doing it. I call it my Southern Fried Oprah voice. It escalates to orgasmic levels at the the end of the sentence (ala "John Trav-OLTA!") and has a major accent added on. It's starting to take over like the "La la la" voice on Seinfeld. I need to just let it go.

I'm an alcoholic because I eat too much

There are always weird people out there, but when you actually get one talking to you its like seeing a celebrity. You didn't know they really existed this close up.

Today a lady complained because she'd eaten something with a Kentucky Bourbon Sauce on it and her doctor told her not to have alcohol in her diet. There was no amount of explanation (the alcohol cooks off) or rationalization (she even talked with several nutritionists) that could make this woman believe that she hadn't eaten something that would kill her.

I have another theory. My theory is that the lady is strictly religious and doesn't want bourbon mentioned on mainstream items. She thinks that if she bitches enough to the organization, they'll do something about it. However, in this case, she's wrong.

People are crazy.

So close to 5,000 I can taste it

I'm almost at 5,000 visitors to my blog. I was a little scared this morning when I logged on because I knew I was close and didn't want to be my own 5,000th visitor to my blog. It's a little pathetic.

I didn't realize how many people were actually paying attention until I was at a "Texas or Bust" party for my brother and his family yesterday. A few people there actually mentioned how close I was getting and one lovely aunt talked about wanting to be the 5,000th.

Nonetheless, I'm excited to be there. If it's you, please let me know. If you're 5,001 and no one has commented, then do me a favor and humor me. I like to be humored.

Disappointing Ending

I turned down a job offer today and its the second one that I had to turn down in the last four months. It seemed like a nice enough job: good hours, could walk to work, easy tasks. However, it was lacking in two things: 1) salary--about what I make now and 2) domestic partnership insurance. You might recall that Chef and I take advantage of this offering at my current job (Dec 7, 2005) and to not have the option would set us back some major bucks.

So I wait and search out again. If anyone has any ideas, let me know. I'm not desperate. Just seeking a direction at this point. Except for education. I don't think I could handle teaching kids and bless those that can.

On another note, I'm in Eville on Oct. 7th. Anyone wanna grab some corn fritters with me?

And they said it wouldn't last...

On Saturday, Chef and I celebrated our two year anniversary. I know, it's hard to believe that we've already been together two years. What's even more sad is that we're getting to be an old, busy couple. The kind that can't celebrate their anniversary ON their anniversary but instead has to plan a separate date to celebrate on. Yes, we're that sad. We're celebrating officially on Thursday.

Other than that, things are busy. I went back to my roots yesterday for the annual Komen walk. My stepdad and I walk it out in mom's memory. It's always a nice time and after the first year, we learned to just show up right before the race. If you get there while they're doing the survivor ceremony, it can make you really bitter.

Besides that and our anniversary, work is busy but not all that important. It's an income and I'm doing well enough on the job. That's all that a job is really for. I'm not looking for earth shattering moments.

However, family is important and one piece of mine is moving to the only other state that loves orange as much as the one I live in. My brother, his wife, my niece and my nephew are heading to Tyler, Tx. Kind of funny because my nephew's name is also Tyler. Anyway, Matt got a really great job offer and its a great opportunity. I just hope my niece and nephew can resist adding the Texas drawl to their language skills.

And because demand was so high (okay, one person requested it, but I'm doing it anyway). Here are a few more pics from my Europe Trip:


This is a view of Wasserburg, Germany, where we spent the majority of our time.

I can only put up on picture right now because it took twenty minutes to upload this one and I want to go home.

The good, the bad and the transvestite

I'm back home and in Chef's loving embrace again. Although I took today off of work because the jet lag kicked my ass. That and the fact that I was awake and travelling for about 30 hours.

My last night in Europe was in Milan, where I was leaving from. It wasn't anything like I expected it. You hear Milan and think "Fashion capital, beautiful, metropolitan." It was mostly dirty and grafitti-covered. Dad showed me all the pretty parts and still I liken it to going to Europe to visit Pittsburgh. We stayed one night in a hotel that wasn't too bad but not in a picturesque neighborhood. All night as we tried to sleep (we had to get up at 4 to get me to the airport in time), I kept hearing horns honking and people going in and out of the hotel.

It wasn't until we went outside to wait for the cab that we finally put everything together. We were staying on the Hooker Highway. Prancing across the street was a topless, thong-wearing transvestite with her friends. Everytime a car passed, more honking. Europe was interesting even up until the end.

I'm posting a couple of pictures from my adventure with probably more to come in the future. Here are just a few:

The beers were much bigger in Germany and tasted better too. Here I am having one at noon in the English Gardens in Munich.











The beers are bigger, but the cars are smaller. This is a two-seater Smart Car. It runs 80 mpg and is supposed to be coming to the states in a few years. Chef says they're really safe, but I'd still hate to be hit by an Escalade in one of these.









Breakfast at the Burgers, our German hosts. From left to right, Elizabeth Burger, Heine Burger, Michael Sturmlinger, Edith Sturmlinger, Robin, me, and Hansi Burger. Germany was so beautiful.











This is the side street that our apartment in Bellagio, Italy was on. It's obviously beautiful, but loses its immediate appeal when you're lugging up a 40 lb. suitcase after the two train rides, taxi ride and rough trip on a hydro-foil boat that it took to get there.






These are only four of the pictures that I took while there. I've got another 185 to share. It was the best trip of my life. The only thing that could've made it better was if Chef was there too. Next time, he will be.

Why do Italian trains NOT have air conditioning when so many people opt out of deoderant?

Today I was in a car, on two trains, in a taxi, on a hydroplane boat and walked up about 100 steps. You can only imagine how good I smelled this afternoon. Plus the train from Verona, Italy to Lake Como had no air conditioning-- good times and it seemed like the longest part of course.

Germany was wonderful. The families we stayed with were so much fun and Tini's wedding was the most fun bridal event that I've ever been to. It was literally 14 hours and I'm thinking that Chef and I need to incorporate some Bavarian wedding traditions into our wedding, if we ever take the plunge.

I got to see the Konigsee and had a nearly private tour of Hitler's Eagle's Nest. I got to walk the river Inn and eat so much good food. I REALLY loved Germany, so Italy has a lot of ground to cover in a short amount of time. I'm heading back to Milan to flight out early Saturday morning (Italy time) and will be back in Evansville on Saturday afternoon. I hope to be back at the pad by Saturday night.

I've taken more than 160 pictures with two days to go, so I bet that I'll end up posting one or two when I get back. I even have make up on in one of them.

We Didn't Really Think He Did It, Did We?

When a friend of mine was lamenting her singlehood the other day with my favorite phrase "I'm going to be alone FOREVER," I told her some good news.

"Ninety percent of all people get married. John Mark Karr was married TWICE, so I think you've got a good shot at walking down the aisle at least once."

Sad, but true. That man is creepy with a capital C and as happy as I was that he was off the streets, even the streets of Bangkok, I never really bought it. I think he was so obsessed with JonBenet Ramsey that hoped he'd done it. His pathetic life would be worth something if he'd done it. The public actually did make it worth a second glance when the story first hit the air.

All I hope is that he gets busted on Dateline for showing up at the house of a 12 year-old decoy or that he's tailed until he gets caught. However, even with one creepy man off the street, there are bound to be millions more still out there. The odds are in the creepy men's favor.

Speaking of creepy guys in the news, my favorite asshole ex-quarterback was signed by the Oakland Raiders yesterday. Jeff George, a former Colt, has such a big mouth that he was T.O. before T.O. was cool. And now, after FIVE years out of the NFL, he's back in...at 38 years old. I'm sure he won't start or even play much, but let me just say this: The last time Jeff George took a snap, Tom Brady wasn't even a starting QB in the NFL. Here's hoping next time he'll stay retired.

Well, the countdown has wound down. I'm heading overseas tomorrow and I'm really excited. Actually at 4:30 the day before I leave, I'm more excited about not having to be at work tomorrow than the actual trip. The trip won't seem real until my Pumas hit pavement in a country where English isn't really spoken or if it is, it's spoken with a weird accent. And Alabama doesn't count.

If I get my 5,000th visitor while I'm gone, please leave me a comment so I know who it was. And I'm actually close to 5,000 this time!

Like Tide for Fossil Fuels

While staying in a Hilton last week, I noticed the large retractable clothesline they had in the bathroom. Hanging from the line was an info card explaining that if you hung your towels up, you would be forfeiting your wash for that day. The warm fuzzy was that you'd be hugging a tree, because "hotels use up a lot of natural resources in the daily washing of linens." The next line touted the millions of gallons of water used and the tons of detergent wasted.

What? Since when did Cheer become a natural resource?? Can I use it to power my car? No? Then it's just another manmade item. Stop trying to con me, Hilton. I want fresh towels and it's gonna cost you.

On another odd note, one of Osama bin Laden's exes tells us that he had Whitney Houston on his "freebie list." It makes you wonder if he gets Being Bobby Brown in his cave. Now I can't stop picturing Osama bin Laden sticking his fingers up Whitney's butt to pull a turd out. I'm not sure how the coke habit would have worked into Islam, but maybe I'm wrong. Perhaps Osama would've turned "Crack is Whack" into "Iraq is Whack." I've had some creepy guys have a crush on me before, but this would definitely take the prize.

Like having a fat person doing Weight Watchers ads

Last month I got a new Marie Claire in the mail with Ashlee Simpson on the cover. I actually love Marie Claire because it seems to be even slightly smarter than the average chick mag, but on this occasion, they blew it. The theme of the issue was "The Body Issue." It was promoting a healthier body image and all that self-love crap that these mags roll out once a year when using a size 8 model instead of size 0.

Either way having someone who has been rumored to have plastic surgery in an article to talk to teens about self-esteem. Classy. I didn't think I was good enough, but I'm here to tell you that you are. That's like having a drunk person take you to an AA meeting.

On another note, I was in beautiful Birmingham last week for a work conference. There's nothing more inspiring than a Birmingham Hilton. Especially being stuck there for four days and being fed salad...just salad, for every lunch. My colon has been completely cleansed.

Well, only 9 days until my overseas adventure. Luckily chapstick is not considered a liquid. My Carmex, however, will have to be checked.

Stuff We Already Know

1. "Get that kid off the escalator!" -Before he was Earl, Jason Lee said that line a couple times in the underrated Kevin Smith movie, Mallrats. Now, only several years later do we learn he was right. Of course, we alreayd knew that.
2. Seeing Captain Insane-o slam a person into the ground numerous times is enough to make kids want to try it at home. It's been years and I'm still using the Hulk Hogan arm-twisting-to-the-ear manevuer. It's only natural to know that kids will try this at home...especially if you tell them not to.
3. When you let other people talk for you, you often get burned. Perhaps it was the whiskey or maybe the lack of water or perhaps you should've come up with a better excuse or NO excuse at all. Of course that would've prevented having to hit up every major talk show today. All accounts at this point say that Landis is ridin' dirty.
4. If your career hasn't gone anywhere in years and you're trying to make a name for yourself, comment on a scandal that you're only tangentially connected to one of the players in. Works every time. Worked for Swayze.

And that's stuff you already for today. Back tomorrow when we talk about making sure kids are wearing seat belts, how eating glass is harmful and why cyanide can kill.

Whoops, you're NOT going out of business

Our local paper had a fuck up so big that the correction went on the FRONT page next to the top headline. When was the last time you remember seeing something like that?

A local columnist who has a quirky name related to her weekly stories about her thriftiness had mentioned that a boutique was donating their clothes to a charity instead of having their annual 75 percent off sale. The article was positive because they knew the money would be used well and the clothes would still be heavily discounted. Apparently, the headline writer did not really read all of the story, because he/she assumed that the clothes were being donated because the store was going out of business. Not the case.

I don't know if the store threatened to sue or pull the big dollars worth of business that they advertise with the paper, but I've never seen so many things done for a "make good." Aside from the front page correction, they also got a front of the local section article. It was really newsworthy too. The article was all about how the boutique was carrying new brands...including Stella McCartney. Lord knows that I'd rather know where to get some great jeans than what happened in yesterday's primaries.

Well, it's Friday and I must go home. I've spent the last hour eyeing my pink beaded necklace because it reminds me of bubblegum and I really want to bite into it. I'm really tired.

Mel Gibson, Steroids and Good Excuses

Raise your hand out there if you thought many months ago that there could be something to those claims of anti-Semitism surrounding Mel Gibson.

Okay, put your hand down now. It seems absurd to me how many times we'll go against our instincts and say we're being politically correct. It's not politically correct to call Mel Gibson a Jew-hater because he made a Jesus movie. And we could write off the crazy shit his father was saying because he's a crazy old man.

Political correctness did not give Mel Gibson the benefit of the doubt. The Lethal Weapon movies did. His celebrity was the only reason we wanted to believe better of him. If you saw a drunk friend of yours spewing that "Jews were the reason for all the wars in the world," would you laugh it off or really start to think. That's all I'm saying. Drunks don't lie.

On another note, I can now say that I have heard the absolute best excuse for steriod use ever. Or at least until the next excuse comes out. Jason Gatlin, US Olympian and Gold medal runner, allegedly failed a drug test . Jason Gatlin's camp says his alleged positive drug test comes from a
massage. Yes, a massage. Coaches allege that a masseuse with a grudge against Gatlin rubbed the steriods into him using a laced-lotion.

When I tell Chef this, he looks at me and says "Do you know this isn't true?" And while I can't tell him that I have the proof, I'm going with my instincts on this one and I'm gonna stick to them until proven otherwise.

The Saying was Wrong...Cheaters do Win

I'm so frustrated that I actually shed some tears at work that were actually related to work. I'd been working really hard on a project with a team for a while now. I put in more hours and coordinated efforst in more cities than my counterparts. However, with a little fancy massaging of the numbers, one of my counterparts made it look like he did a much better job. Sometimes it sucks to be honest.

Speaking of sucking and being honest, Lance Bass came out of the closet. Is anyone shocked? Didn't think so. Even if in the population as a whole does not have quite that large a percentage of homosexuals, boy bands bring the average up. At least one in every boyband group of five members is probably gay, so that's 20 percent. That's a pretty safe bet. Then add in the fact that he was crazy enough to want to go to space, and that he was seen on more than one occasion with Kathy Griffin. It all makes sense.

However, I do feel a little bit bad. Lance has been reportedly seeing Reichen from the Amazing Race. This begs the question...what happened to Chip? Chip and Reichen won the race a few years back as a committed couple. I guess a taste of fame begets more licks, so to speak. I just hope Chip was smart enough to get his half of the Amazing Race money.

Me + Wine+ Wedding Show = Bad News and Crying

Why did I ever think that drinking a bottle of wine (some nice Cabernet) and watching a wedding show would be a good idea? It just brought out a bunch of ideas that I don't think I've truly conciously thought. Of course, I had to share these ideas while crying with Chef. He was a good sport at first. Then as I kept poking and beating the dead horse, Chef got a little tired of hearing about it.

I've never been a great drunk. I've always been a little more flirtacious or stupid, but I cannot recall ever having been a crying drunk. A few tears maybe, but never the full out bawling-so-hard-I'm-almost-hyperventillating kind of cry. And I really don't know what started it or why I kept crying. Damn you, red wine. You're so delicious and yet so bad to me.

Despite all that, I have to say that Chef was a trooper. He held my hair back as I said hello a second time to the wine. He tucked me into bed and then he appropriately made fun of me this morning.

I don't drink a lot in the first place, but I'm beginning to think that I'm beginning to reach the age where drinking heavily has consequences in the morning. And so, I'm beginning to reach the age where I will not be drinking heavily.

On another note, today at lunch my friend Julie went to a huge park here in town and walked two miles so that our make-up would melt off. More amazing than that is the fact that on our way there, I almost ran over a pedestrian. Honestly, it was his fault for stepping out in front of me in traffic, but I digress. While giving the pedestrian the once over, Julie and I both happened to notice how incredibly hot he was...then it hit us. I had almost run over a professional football player. He's much cuter with his helmet off.

Worse than the First

This morning I rolled into work (late as usual) to be greeted at the front door by that day's receptionist (they take turns because our permanent receptionist was let go four years ago). She smiled and said "Do you know Tammy Thompson (names have been changed)?"

"Yes," I said. "She was last year's spokesperson for one of our events. She's great. A wonderful surivor."

"Well," said the receptionist. "She died yesterday at her office. Call this person to find out more."

It wasn't exactly the best way to get the news. I hadn't talked to Tammy in about 2 months and I can't say that we were exceptionally close, but I did know her. I knew she was WAY too young to die and to do so suddenly. I knew she'd just finished her earning her college degree after going back later in life. I knew she loved football. And that was enough for me.

The sad and weird thing was that this wasn't the first time this had happened. When you're working with people who are survivors, that indicates that they've had something to survive from. Chances are good that unless you've been hit by lightning, what affects you once will come back again.

So, I pick people to speak out about their experience and inspire others. I also pick children whose parents want desperately to help other parents who are going through the same thing. And with this comes risk.

The first surivor that I lost was a one year-old baby. He was precious and strong and had a freak reaction during a surgert. I was beside myself when he passed away. Seeing his father with one of his son's toys hanging out of his suit pocket at the visitation was enough to bring tears to my eyes.

Tammy's death is no less sad. I also feel guilty. I told the baby's story yesterday to someone because I was speaking my apprehension about this year's child spokesperson. She's only had surgery two months ago and this worried me. Now I'm beginnig to feel like a jinx.

Maybe I won't use spokespeople for next year's event.

All that and an Emmy nomination too

Go back to whatever planet you came from, make sure your E-Meter is hooked up and ready to go. Scientology has lost the PR battle once again. This religion is taking a bigger beating than Michael Jackson. Okay, maybe not that big, but it's getting bad.

I'm actually happy because the Emmy voters nominated the South Park episode "Trapped in the Closet" for Outstanding Animated Programming (for less than one hour). I'm going to be pulling hard core for this to win. Either way, it's a win for South Park because Comedy Central is putting the episode back on the air. Suck it, Cruise. Suck it, Travolta. Suck it, Hubbard. All your bitching and moaning did little.

On another note, The Colbert Report also got nominated. I'm pulling for big fellow. If you haven't seen any of the 26 episodes of the 4oo-something-part series "Better Know a District," you've been missing out. All I'm saying is "Pacific Rim Jobs."

Other than Emmy stuff, Chef and I went over to meet a friend of his and his wife. It was interesting. I've never been in a couple long enough to have "couple friends." They seem nice enough and I don't see myself feeling like I'm stuck with something. Even though they're only a few years younger than me, I felt really old. I'm not exactly living an "old" lifestyle. I still rent, we aren't married, I accept furniture from relatives. But for some reason, I just felt like I'd been through more. Maybe I'm getting less tolerant as I'm getting older. Or maybe I've always been the youngest one in a group and I'm not used to be the older one. Who knows?

Anyway, tomorrow is the last round in my big competition. Everyone wish me luck. I'll actually reveal what's going on when it's actually not able to be potentially jinxed. Yes, I'm just that superstitious.

An Annoying Day

I've been annoyed all damn day. And once again I'm using the blog to let it out:

• I leave the office for 10 minutes during which time my assistant is looking for me. When I walk through the door, not one but FIVE people tell me "Your assistant was looking for you." I find her and find out she wanted to ask me a question that I could never possibly know nor would I be the correct person to ask. This would only be mildly frustrating except for the fact that this sweet lady has been with the organization 35 years and should know better.
• People keep asking me to do things that have NOTHING to do with my job. I say no and then I get a call from upper management (who told me to start saying no in the first place) as to why I'm not being a "team player."
• I've had to run home twice today. Once I had to be driven because my eye has been acting funky. I was on my way a THIRD time when I was told I wasn't needed...after I had already left.
• My lower back is killing me.
• Star Jones thinks she's a celebrity but I can't figure out why or how she got famous. Or why we should care?
• A former co-worker came in to show me pictures of her new baby...in the arms of her famous sister-in-law. She had oodles of pics with the famous ones kids and the famous chick's slightly less equally famous husband. Yet none of the pictures had her or her husband in them. Hmmm. Then she looked at me expectantly and when I didn't respond, she said "We went out to LA to visit ____'s house. I even got to see her ___."
• Nelly Furado went from being "like a bird" to being a ho. When did that happen?

That's all I have to bitch about for now. Actually, I can bitch more, but it's time to go home.

Keep Your Fingers Crossed

Okay, friends, I've got some things working now and need everyone to keep their fingers crossed for me. I can't really say now, less for the jinxing reason and more for the I need not yet reveal my plans reason.

Other than that, life is pretty boring right now...in a good way. Shera made her way down from Greyskull to visit me over the 4th. She and Chef even bounded over cooking strategies. I was happy they got along. Now if only Swampette and Precious would come down to meet the man in my life. It will be two years in September. I can't believe it.

Speaking of September, only a few more weeks until the big Europe trip. I know I don't need to really care, but it was convenient that we get back the day before the Colts' first regular season game. I wonder if Dad had anything to do with that....hmmmm.

When Wednesday Feels Like Monday

There were several things that made me realize that the shortened work week was going to be a bitch. First off, it was raining pretty hardcore here this morning. My feelings on rain is that it makes me exceptionally tired when I look outside and see it all day.

Secondly, I was in the bathroom at work this morning suffering through someone's remnant poop smell when I reached up to get some TP for my wiping abilities. It must've been an idiot who put the TP on it's spring loaded roller because when I touched it, it jumped off and promptly rolled across the floor out of reach. I had to do the delicate shuffle to get to the roll.

After that, I got a mud smudge on a light jacket. I got called into a shitty meeting tomorrow afternoon. I had a phone interview that went badly. I got told I have to speak to a group of 6 year olds about a topic that 6 year olds are too young to really understand. I'm fighting the urge to punch people in the face.

It might say Wednesday on the calendar, but it's TOTALLY a Monday.

Training to do NOTHING

I love having to drive more than 400 miles roundtrip to be trained on an initiative that's not going to happen in your market until Fall 2007. Nothing makes me happier than wasting my time.

However, it's the 4th of July weekend and we get out of the office at 3:30 on days before holidays. We're like the government that way. I actually think we have better hours than the government, but that may be an exageration.

On another note, I just got my e-ticket confirmation for my trip to Europe. I'm TOTALLY excited. I also am a little pissed that my passport picture looks so bad. I mean, I know it's the cliche and all, but I got a REALLY bad one. Here's a replay of my conversation about it with Chef:

Me: Look how BAD this is. I mean, do I REALLY look like this??

Chef: If you do, love has blinded me more than I thought.

And scene.

Have a great holiday, bitches!

Some people look better with some cushion for the pushin'

Do you know what happens when you lose more than 100 pounds?

Well, most people don't. I can't say that I do, but I have seen it done before and here's the one thing they don't tell you in those gastric bypass counselling sessions: You may need some junk in the trunk to look good.

They don't tell you that you're losing weight to get healthy, not because a producer said your ass was blocking half the screen. Kudos for losing weight to loser your blood pressure and cholesterol. But don't think that shedding the pounds will make you any prettier. Sometimes chubby hides things that should be hidden. Like the real structure of someone's face.

Here are some of my favorite examples. You tell me which picture looks better.

Star Jones
Before
After

Nicole Richie

Before
After

Hillary Duff

Before

After

Look, we're fat in America. It's true. But can we at least agree that bones aren't pretty? There's something to be said for a happy median.

Here's to all of us trying to find ours.

So, I can't count

Actually, I can't read a counter, because I'm still like 500 hits away from hitting 5000. Thanks to Chef for pointing it out to me.

So Friday, I was trying to start my car and the key would go in, but not actually move. For those of you who have a Toyota, you know that you have to jiggle the wheel sometimes for the ignition to give. However, when I did it, nothing doing.

Of course, not only will my car not start, but my window's rolled down, so I can't really leave it. I call a work buddy to stay with my car and lend me hers while I roll home to grab the original key (I'd been using a copy for about 3 years). Get back to the car, the ORIGINAL key won't work so now I'm getting pissed and balls ass hot.

I have a moment of freak out as the dollar signs flash in front of my eyes and start slamming the wheel with my hands. After they are nice and sore, I call information who hooks me up with a locksmith. The locksmith says it's better to take it to a Toyota dealer, because he's not sure he can fix my problem and would still have to charge me for the trip.

I call the Toyota dealership in town and the guy there tells me to jiggle the wheel. Not once but twice he tells me this before I explain to him that I'd already tried that, my friend had already tried that and a passing-by cop had already tried that. He then tells me he has to have my car to fix it and hooks me up with a tow.

So, after a really nice wrecker picked me up (he really did make everything seem better), the dealership guy said he'd try the cheapest thing first: making new copies of my keys at $13 a piece. Can you believe it? It actually worked. He said that ice or something had warped the driver's side door and stripped the keys. They finally got so bad that they wouldn't work in the ignition any more, but that the ignition was fine. I have to use my old busted key to work the driver's side door and the new keys for the ignition, but that works for me!!

And that was my Friday.

Turn off the Mic

A valedictorian in Arizona is pissed and potentially suing the school system because they turned off the microphone during her valedictory address. She had gone off script, despite being repeatedly warned not to do so and the pulled the plug.

What was she saying? She was telling the crowd of her relationship with her personal lord and savior, Jesus Christ. There are few things in this that I take issue to:

• According to the interview, she admits that the school district edited her original speech citing, among other things, that it identified a specific religion. She also admits that she conceded to the changes but felt "pressured" to do so.
• The school district sent home a letter citing a similar case in California where the court upheld the school district's decision to keep church and state separate. Later in the interview, the girl's father stated that he was going to sue the school district not for money, but to "set precedent." Um, isn't that what the school board letter referenced.
• The other thing that struck me is that the school had a copy of the speech in a teleprompter and the AV person said that anyone who veered from the written speech would have their mic cut off. Her mother stated "We were hoping that was a scare tactic."

Okay, I'm wholeheartedly for free speech, but how can this girl claim her free speech was impeded. She does not have a right for amplification. The Bill of Rights says nothing about that.

Another thing that upsets me is that several Christian conservatives are the first to claim protection under the Bill of Rights when it comes to praying and other religious actions. However, they also vehemently oppose when others use these same freedoms in cases that don't suit their agendas (ie-flag burning, Marilyn Manson, etc).

Lastly, I would be interested to see how much attention or support a student would get if they were to go on stage and preach the word of Satan.

Freedom of Speech doesn't just protect the speech we agree with.

**Please remember to let me know if you're the 5,000 visitor to my blog!**

Well, Good For You

Have you ever met someone and known instantly that they were ultra-competitive? I met someone like that this afternoon. She was a lady older than myself, in the same line of work and new to her current job. It seemed like she was trying really hard to make sure she "beat me" when she introduced herself. At first she would introduce herself after me and make sure she made more small talk. Then she just raced in front of me toward people to introduce herself first.

The funny thing was that I wasn't even "working" the event. We were part of the event with several other non-profits and my representative in charge of that area of our work told me not to bother rousing up the media. We are putting on a similiar event in a month that is purely ours and he wanted to concentrate my efforts on that. Anyway, I give this woman about 16 months before she's beaten down.

On another note, my counter's getting close to the momentous number 5,000! If you are lucky visitor 5,000 on my blog, expect a big shout out and perhaps a prize. So, you must leave me a coment to let me know.

Yes, I'm a dork and I'm proud of it.

Random Things that Have Bothered Me

The first couple relate to the Britney Spears Interview that Matt Lauer did. The rest come from directly from my life:

1. Why would anyone let Britney chew gum through a television interview?
2. When asked if she would consider moving from the paparazzi capitol of the world to a small town, Spears answered with "Yeah, I could move to Atlanta."
3. When told that some people label her a redneck in a derogatory way, Spears replied with "Well, I hate it when people label other people. I mean, I'm not a Bible belt person..."
4. Be comfortable, but flip flops, a jean skirt and your boobs hanging out are not really camera-ready.
5. I hate it when there's no leadership at your workplace, the office is down money, the main office is down money and there's a general feeling of fear and tension in the air every day.
6. It's also unsettling when you talk to your boss and he doesn't really do anything to assuage your fears because he's facing the same thing.
7. I couldn't stop giggling when the preacher at church (I went with Dad for Father's Day) made the comment "Jesus left some DNA in you." It's still making me laugh now.
8. That my one of my best buddies left work again for Maternity Leave and I miss her already.
9. I wish I could write down things that are in my head. Like a machine that would tap into my brain waves and transcribe some of the random thoughts that are forgotten the moment after I think them. Sure this device would be of great use on those in who're quadriplegic, but this is just one of those random thoughts.
10. It bothers me that no matter how hard I try, I can never keep up with people's birthdays.
11. When people at work are so recognition-hungry that they take credit for things they had no part in. Then get pissed off when those who actually performed the task, call them out.
12. That in some of our states, blind people can legally shoot guns and have hunting licenses without a sighted guide.
13. It pisses me off when I'm at Sam's and every time I touch something, it shocks me. So when I touch some batteries and get an especially large shock, I yelled "JESUS!". The woman next to me shook her head and said "That's really not necessary." I wanted to stick a cattle prod up her ass and see what kind of words she'd come up with.

Well, it's time to end another day at "Tension Island Enterprises." Until tomorrow, or the day I get fired, good night.

A Conversation between Preston and Shiloh in 13 years

The following is a conversation between Preston Spears and Shiloh Jolie-Pitt in about 13 years.

Preston: People paid $500,000 for my baby pics.

Shiloh: That's nothing. My parents got $4 million from the pictures and more than $20 million worldwide.

P: Well, a sculptor made a statue of my mom when she was pregnant with me as a stand for pro-choice.

S: Well, my parents were so hounded about people seeing me that they went to Africa to flee the media. Your dad only acts like an African-American.

P: Well, your mom broke up your dad's first marriage.

S: So did yours.

P: Your parents took you to Africa for the native experience and then you lived in a multi-million dollar home.

S: Your mom dropped you on the head, had you riding without a car seat and had child protective services called on her.

P: Your dad made Ocean's Twelve.

S: Your mom remade a Bobby Brown song.

P: You're going through an awkard period.

S: With lips like this, my whole life is an awkward period.

End scene.

Holy Heaven's Gate, Batman!

Last weekend I went to the Flea Market with my friend Julie. It was a wondrous affair full of silk flower "saddles," fake handbags, perfume and sunglasses, and lots of crap. The people watching was unbelievable and it's hard to imagine that this really was the "haunt" of Nicole Kidman and Keith Urban when they're in town. However, all the local gossip columnists tout the celebrities that visit the flea market and for some reason, picturing Kelly Clarkson or Winona Judd going through a bin of old video games and DVDs seems a little silly, but I suppose everyone likes a bargain. One lady told us we'd be lucky to own her Russian diamonds. At only $40 and with the look of cut glass, I think Russian stood for "fake."

Among these monstrosity booths was a small plastic table and some chairs around it. It looked like a book booth, so I crawled in closer to see what they were selling. What they were selling was Scientology. The books were the L. Ron Hubbard tomes I remember seeing my father read in the 80s. There were a couple of women sitting there talking to anyone that came along about the sect. It was a little out of place. Of all the places I've been solicited for religion, the flea market was not the classiest of settings. The Hare Krishnas have the airport, the Mormons get you at home and now the Scientologists get you at the Flea Market.

What's more when i was riding home, Julie and I passed our city's new "Scientology Celebrity Center." In the heart of the Bible belt, I really didn't expect to see a big push for another religion. I also don't expect that any of our local celebrities would be alienating their devout fans and stepping inside the Celebrity Center. It actually didn't scream celebrity. It screamed little house that used to be a recording studio.

All of this leads me to the question of the day: If most religions teach that people are generally created equal, why does Scientology have a Jim Crow view when it comes to the notorious and rich? Would I really want to be a part of something that automatically rates me lower than others?

When You're Doomed Before You Start

I had an interview this morning at a Skin Care place. I knew it was doomed because I had developed my largest zit in several months around my mouth this weekend. Chef wondered aloud if a small puppy might erupt from it Alien-style. So, big zit and skin care interview. Not a good start.

Then the lady I met with had no sense of humor. In fact, I felt like I was wasting her time and mine. She knew within 10 seconds of meeting me that I wasn't the one for the gig. She asked me things like "Well, which of these computer programs are you really proficient in."

"Well, all of them. With the exception of one, I use them all every day." I realize some people lie, but would I really list out all of the computer programs I'd HEARD of and try to pass them off as things I know. How many people accuse someone of lying on a resume in a frickin' job interview?!?!? Why interview me at all if you didn't believe my resume?

Then she told me that I'd have to meet with the director of operations, Pat Buchanan. It was a female Pat Buchanan, but nonetheless I knew with absolute certainty, that that was my sign things weren't going to work out. Then the lady interviewing me informed me that Pat had been tied up in an emergency that developed over the weekend and wouldn't be able to see me today. The translation to that statement from Southern side-speak to straightforward talk is this: "Look, we both know you aren't getting this job. I just left the room and told Pat Buchanan that she needn't worry about us taking up her time this morning."

I should've just gotten up and walked out except that I would've missed out on the opportunity to be criticzed for my current work. Apparently a former and current employee of the skin care place had been involved in an incident at a third party place. The third party told me about it and who was involved and I was sent out to award those involved for their efforts. Well, apparently one of the skin care company's current employees is still pissed because she wasn't mentioned or recognized. Of course, I didn't even know this person existed because the third party gave me the names of those involved. This event happened a YEAR ago. It went a little something like this:

"Funny you mention Incident X. Some of our former and current employees were both involved with Incident X at Location Y. Our current employee was involved and yet her name never seemed to make it into any of the papers or recognition."

I began to wonder if I was called in merely to have that rubbed in my face. I couldn't say anything nor did I want to at that point. I shook her hand, pretended to smile and walked my ass back to my car laughing. At least I was laughing.

No, I Didn't Watch American Idol, Dammit

It's been two days and everyone is STILL asking me if I watched the American Idol finale. Let me make this adundantly clear. No, I did not.

It's not so much the asking about it that pisses me off. It's me saying "No, I haven't watched American Idol all season" and THEN getting a recap of what I missed. If I haven't invested the time in watching the first 5 months, what makes you think I give a rat's ass now.

One of my co-workers who is about 30 years older than the target demographic for American Idol spent 10 minutes recounting to me how she used to have McPheever but within the last two episodes, she hopped on board the Soul Patrol. She then explained to me that the commissioner fo the Soul Patrol was a 29 year old white guy with premature gray hair. It made perfect sense to me. When I hear Soul, I think of old looking young white guys belting out Barry Manilow tunes.

I was only compelled to write down my feelings when the aforementioned co-worker said she spent from the end of the finale until 11:30 that night calling in to vote. God help America. I'll stick with Lost.

I saw the Governor and then I read a great book

Yesterday I was leaving a gas station that sits at an awkward corner in town. It's one of those weird ones that is always exceptionally busy and the exits lead to an even busier intersection. I had been waiting for quite a long time when a dark Lincoln Town Car pulled up next to me. Naturally, I was trying to pull out and the town car was preventing me. I looked into the side window and saw our Governor. He looked up and when I waved, he waved back.

This is actually the third time I'd met the Governor. The first two were work-related when he was posing for a "day declaration." One of those "Today is Tennessee's Sit On Your Ass and Do Nothing Day for This Charity Day" kind of things. It's totally different when you see someone out doing a normal thing...like pissing me off for blocking me in. It's like seeing your teacher outside of class. Weird.

Okay, so I'm constantly reading and I'm always looking for book suggestions, so I'm going to jot down a quick list of some of my recently read good books (and one I didn't like). Leave me a comment on what you're reading.

• Bel Canto by Ann Patchett: Absolutely amazing. Just finished it after reading for three hours straight last night. Now I'm trying to read everything she's written.
• Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell: Funny, historical and quirky. I've heard the audio edition is fabulous, but I'm afraid to get it because I loved the book so damn much.
• The Best Non-Required Reading of 2005: I buy this collection every year. It's like great reading for the ADD inflicted. However this latest edition has been my favorite collection so far. Good from cover to cover.
• Anything by Jennifer Weiner: She's my favorite hot pink book author. Fun and exciting.

Not on my list:

• A Prayer for Owen Meany: Irving writes like I talk: in long, boring stories that only have the thinest thread of connection to the main point.

Okay, hit me with your suggestions. What do people think of Kurt Vonnegut?

Things That Annoy Me, Part Two

Here continues my list of pessimism. Mostly because I'm highly annoyable, especially on Mondays. Things that annoy me include:

• Say things like "Wow, your hair is wavy today." I know it is. I saw it about 15 times in my mirror this morning. If you want to give a compliment, give one. Don't just notice something I already know.
• People asking "How was your weekend?" all Monday morning. Some of them genuinely care, but the majority of them did something really cool and just want a chance to talk about it. Besides, whatever I did this weekend was a shitload better than coming here to listen to you.
• People who get in line at the drive-through at the bank and haven't even STARTED their deposit slip yet. There's a sign that tells you to do it before you get in line. Read it or park until your done.
• Feeling obligated to invite people along to lunch because they heard you talking about it OR they just invited themselves along. Then they go to lunch and try to sneak out before you see them. And they talk about your wavy hair.
• When it's Monday and all the petty shit starts to pile up already. You know it's going to be a long ass week.
• People who interview for a job and are named Dallas. Mostly because you if they get the job, you're going to be humming the theme song to "Dallas" in your head everytime you pass them in the hall.
• Having a 400 lb piece of concrete next to your office and finding out that suddenly you're in charge of disposing of it because of the proximity to your office.
• When Blockbuster calls your brother, who lives two states away, to tell him that you have a game overdue. Especially when there are two factors: 1) Blockbuster calls your brother's house, which he moved into WAY after you got your membership and a number you certainly never gave them and 2) You had already called Blockbuster to tell them that you were keeping the game for another rental period.

Yup. I need a drink already.

Warm Brings Out the Crazy in People

Apparently when the weather warms up, it activates the crazy in people's heads. I've seen some of the oddest people around town. Maybe the people aren't all that odd, but the clothes sure have been.

Let me share:

• There was an 80-plus year old woman rolling along the sidewalk in an electric wheelchair with a blue and white striped seersucker blazer, a hot pink scarf and a blue and white trucker hat in the "busted" position.
• A college-age guy was wearing a lightweight blue v-neck sweater with flip flops and capri pants. That's right. A guy in Capri pants. Not only Capris, but the kind that have the drawstring at the bottom of each of the pant legs.
• A man well into his 50s with full on gray hair and purple soccer shorts. He was portly and sporting no shirt...even though it was 11 a.m. and only about 68 degrees. Not only that, but the entire chest was shaved and tanned.

Those are my top three in the last 24 hours. I also did notice something while driving. The college campus that I cut through to get home is hosting the state's Special Olympics events this weekend. The lane to get home is three wide and the middle lane was completely filled with barriers every few feet with the word "SLOW" painted on it. I thought it was funny, but I'm going to hell, so you be the judge.

Out Came The Angry Black Woman Inside Me

This afternoon I was talking to a friend who I had called an "ogre." She's tall and I'm jealous, but that's beside the point. I told her that my height made me a troll and then proceeded to put my arms out in troll-like fashion. At this point another co-worker, the kind that doesn't wear shoes all day, rolled up and said "You do look like a troll."

Here's why I was pissed: I didn't ask for this woman's opinion and I did not invite her into our conversation and she was being a bitch on purpose. I was pissed and she had already pissed me off immensely today so this was about to push me over the edge. I knew that even just looking at her was enough to make me say something that would've gotten me fired.

So when she tried to talk to me, I just put my hand up and said "Hand." She continued on and I said "I said 'hand.' I don't want to talk to you. Walk Away. Walk Away. Walk Away." I continued this until she finally moved on.

Of course, by the point my friend was laughing her ass off and the woman was so startled she actually shut her mouth and walked away (a rarity).

Don't you just love that time of the month. It makes me madder and bolder than usual.

Gators Aren't that Irrational After All

Okay, people. For years I've endured some good-natured ribbing about my fear of gators, but DAMN IT, there's something to be scared of there. Before, when I was considering moving to Florida, I used to have nightmares about gators climbing chain-link fences to eat my dog. Does it make sense? Not at all, but that didn't stop it from scaring me.

In the last week, three people have been KILLED by alligators. I knew it was only a matter of time before these things got pissed about all the pythons people have been dropping in the Everglades and came after humans. One of the gators had the woman's body still in her mouth and was dragging it around like a kid holding onto a battered doll.

People are now starting to fear the gator. One woman shot one that came somewhat near her. The live and let live pact between gator and man has been broken.

On another note, have you ever had a day where your pee smelled funny? No, I didn't eat any asparagus. What can make your pee smell?

Perhaps Even the Most Important MAN Ever!

This is the very definition of hyperbole:

"Tom Cruise is one of the most important stars ever in the motion picture business," Universal Studios President Ron Meyer, a close friend and former agent, told Reuters.

Of course, how important are stars really? Is Tom Cruise going to cure cancer? Balance the budget? Mediate the peace talks between Iran and Israel? No, no and no again. Let's put things in perspective. He reads lines that more talented people wrote while pyrotechnical masters make things explode around him and people who actually know what the hell they're doing cut the work into a manageable size. He's an overpaid reader. Some people do that at church on Sundays for free.

But what really makes me happy is that the world is all aflutter because Mission Impossible 3 didn't make $70 million over the weekend. It only made about $48 million. Wow. That is disappointing.

Needless to say the media is hypothesizing about the downturn in the movie's outcome and the downturn in Cruise's Popularity. I, personally, would blame Phillip Seymour Hoffman. When people found out he talked normally instead of in the nasal whine of Capote, they were disappointed and left. Or perhaps people like me blame Cruise for making Chef leave South Park and hate him for it.

Either way, USA Today did a poll of about 1,000 of the, what 60 million?, people in the U.S. to tell us that more than half of people think less of Tom Cruise now. And here's the biggest shocker, he fell the hardest in opinion among women. So, a good-looking man over the age of 40 marries a 20-something and women don't like this? That IS news.

From this point on, I'm only writing about Tom Cruise if he does something noteworthy. And that will be a long time coming.

On another note, did anyone else see the priest that got convicted of stabbing a nun 31 times in the shape of an upside down cross and then "anointing" her with a smudge of her own blood? How soon before this gets incorporated into a movie? Seriously, the supposed motive of the priest was that he just snapped. When I just snap, I usually throw something. I don't stab someone 31 times and then smear their own blood on them. I do occasionally fling my own feces on people Swampy-style, but that's on a rare occasion.

Over the Shoulder Boulder Holder

When I was thirteen, my mother took me to Lazarus to have my tits fitted for a bra. She told me that the lady there was a bitch before I went, but that she was the best. And as a 13-year old with DDs, that's what I needed. The Best.

Of course, that experience scarred me for life. The embarrassment and humiliation of having a lady cup your boobs and say things like "These will be down to your knees by the time your 20 at this rate" and "You really shouldn't play sports at all unless you want these to fall off." Other comments were made that were meaner, but these were the ones that I can print.

Anyway, since then, I've been afraid to face the wrath of those who carry measuring tape. I just guess at my size like the rest of America. Of course, lately, my guessing has been off. I've come home with my boobs hanging out the bottom and straps hanging off my shoulders. Nothing good came of it.

I went to Lane Bryant on Thursday and I have to say that my life has changed. Yes, that's right. I'm devoting an entire blog entry to my new bra. Deal with it. I tried my size on (or at leas that I THOUGHT was my size) and was pissed when it didn't fit. A clerk there offered to fit me for a bra and now I'm a DDD. No wonder these things have sucked. All I can say is that my new Cacique bra is the BEST THING EVER. If you're busty and you need a new bra, check out Lane Bryant. I don't have any underwire poking me, I'm supported , I'm comfortable, I'm out there and I'm loving every minute of it.