Eating with my Chinese Sticks

Here are some things that I've heard in the last 48 hours that came from the mouths of co-workers. Actually they came mostly from the mouth of one co-worker, but for the sake of guessing, I'll throw in something someone else said:

• Don't go downtown after 3 today. They're having a parade. (Who?) The Mexicans. (To clarify, the "parade" included 5,000 people protesting the potential new immigration laws. And there weren't any floats.)
• They don't eat a lot of meet because it's too hard to pick up with Chinese sticks. (Who?) The Orientals. (please note that I primarily asked the "who?" question to see what she called different nationalities. It's a fun game).
• The dirty Mexicans or Hispanics or Latinos or whatever we have to call them this week are working here and stealing our jobs. They need to be booted.
• If it weren't for the liberal media, way more things would get done in the government.
• Chocolate chip cookies taste good.

The enlightenment has yet to hit Tennessee. Mostly we haven't quite gotten used to the whole "politically correct" thing. I guess that confuses the shit out of me because the South always claims hospitality among it's attributes. I can attest that the South is quite hospitable. Of course, I'm a white woman.

He's A Knight...Woo Oh Oh...He's a Knight

There's really nothing all that exciting to the title except that Tom Jones was knighted and I like singing "She's a lady, woh oh oh, She's a lady" over and over again. I'm not as big of a fan of the "What's new Pussy cat" stuff, but that' s just me.

Speaking of singers and ladies, an artist in New York has made a life-size sculpture of Britney Spears naked. Before the guys can get too excited, she's naked and croutching on a bear skin rug, but she's also pregnant and apparently from the back view, you can see the baby's head crowning. It's called "Monument to Pro-Life: The Birth of Sean Preston."

There are several things that bug me about this. First of all, the sculpture's face doesn't really look like Britney. It more closely resembles the generic face of a girl on a sculpture my mom bought at Kirkland's.

Secondly, can you not pick a better mother for a monument to pro-life than Britney Spears? I mean, wouldn't a Gwyneth Paltrow make a better model of "placing family before career" than the "Oops...I forgot to put him in a baby seat." I just don't get it. Lots of celebrities have kids. Lots of non-celebrities have kids. What makes this child's birth something to commemorate pro-life?

Speaking of nude celebrities, I am so damn tired about hearing how Sharon Stone is okay with being naked. Of course, she's okay with being naked on screen. It made her a star. Her last couple of movies sucked ass and she didn't show any skin. Let's name the three most famous Sharon Stone Movies: Basic Instinct (naked), Casino (not naked, but a potato could act next to Robert DeNiro and he'd make them look better), Basic Instinct 2 (naked). Let's face it. Pretty soon, Sharon Stone will be acting like Sally O'Malley, Molly Shannon's old SNL character, and ending every sentence with "I'm 50!".

The Mike and The Madness

It seems IU has a new basketball coach: Kelvin Sampson from Oklahoma. I have to admit to being a little surprised. I remember a couple of years ago at this time when both Sampson and Davis were in the Final Four. And I remember Davis's IU team beating a better Oklahoma team. I also remember the big brew ha ha made of having two minority coaches face off in the Final Four for the first time ever. Anyway, I digress.

I'm actually about ready for basketball season to be over. Well, girls basketball season at the very least. Mostly because I'm tired of hearing the office sports nut go on and on about UT women's basketball. I don't care. I don't get nervous before their games and I don't think it's a big deal that one of them dunked in a game...twice.

Enough about that. There's going to be an Ocean's Thirteen. First movie, fun and cute. Second movie, not great but still watchable. At this point I think Brad Pitt, Matt Damon and George Clooney are all doing this as an excuse to have guy time. With Pitt and Damon going to be daddies and Clooney the eternal bachelor, it's almost like his way of saying "You never hang out with me any more." So they're doing a movie to get in some quality time.

Vegas, Baby, Vegas

Last Friday our office said goodbye to the beloved Coke machine. The machine, which was originally made for glass bottles, had gotten so old that if it broke, we wouldn't be able to fix it. So, the Coke company here gave us a "free" vending machine. The downside of the machine is that it gives change so the "give a dollar, take a dollar" cup of quarters that had become my "I need a carbonated beverage and only have 40 cents" cup is also gone.

Anyway, I went to the machine with only 30 minutes left of work to grab a water before I left. I put my quarters in and was pissed because it said I had to have correct change. So I pushed the thing to give me my change back and it spit out $2.80 in quarters. What?!?! So I put my money back in again and this time it spit out $3.00 in quarters. They decided to make our vending machine a slot machine!!

Well, not really. I went back a couple more times to figure out the trick to the machine and it's that you have to use a certain combination of coins to get the electronic mix up. I feel like I've figured out a way to beat the house. WOO HOO!

Given in to the Gaucho

I hate capris. I hate pedal pushers, pencil pants and culottes. Basically anything that touts itself as being in-between something I'm usually against. As in, it's in-between a skirt and shorts. It's in-between pants and shorts. That sort of thing.

So obviously I was resistant to the gaucho. However, they are popping up everywhere around here. The office is crawling with gaucho-wearing fools and now I'm one of them. Why the gaucho? There are a couple of reasons:

• They're like wearing pajama pants. I think I'm not going to ever take them off. The pair I got were knit and fabulous and I know that every time I'm feeling bloated I can put these suckers on and be comfortable.
• They're affordable. Every season some new trend comes along and let's face it: I'm cheap. I always like to add a little fashion here and there, but it gets too expensive. These gauchos were only $15 and worth every penny. I can wear them to work or casually.
• They're super-big and with a heel, they don't make me look as short as a capri would.
• I can sit like a slob in them. Heel tucked under my ass at work doesn't expose my underwear to the world.

So here I sit in my gauchos and I know that I'm going to be in them for a while. Chef, like nearly all men, hates them. He calls them "cut-off Hammer pants." Well, I do feel exceptionally too legit to quit.

On another note, I accidentally picked up a box of tampons the other day that were "fresh." What does "fresh" mean? Scented. You can add fragrance to the applicator, the wrapper and event the tampon itself, Tampax, but the second that things hits the moist, bloody nether regions, not even Chanel No. 5 can stop the funk. Does this seem like false advertising or a bad idea to anyone else?

Hooters Sells More than Wings...they sell crabs too

Chef made me watch a Tivoed commercial last night. Normally we Tivo to whiz through the commercials, but in this case I had seen the show and was interested in the :60 of idiocy.

It's for Hooters and has a bunch of the typical Hooters waitresses trying to sell crab legs for $7.95 / lb. The manager (who was female for a nice PC touch) is baffled by why the waitresses aren't selling the crab legs until she discovers that they have been weighing each person who orders the legs and multiplying their weight by $7.95. Basically this is a dumb blonde joke personified.

The mix of Hooters, crabs, legs and short shorts was a little too much like a violation of the health code for my taste. Hooters also forgot something. No one goes to Hooters for legs or crabs. It's all about the wings.

South Park premiered last night and Chef and I stayed up to watch the demise of the show's Chef. I say 'stayed up' because those bastards at ABC know how to fuck up Tivo by having shows like 'Lost' run a few minutes over and thereby missing the first few minutes of South Park, or any other show you'd want to record. Remember when TBS used to start everything 5 minutes later than the networks? It's just that annoying.

Anyway, they properly lampooned Isaac Hayes and Scientology which had me thinking. This brew-ha ha happened a mere week or so before the beginning of the season. Could this be a clever publicity stunt or prank? Before you tell me that I'm off-base, remember the fiasco with Cartman's Dad and the entire Terrence & Phillip episode on April Fool's Day.

I'm not saying this is a likely scenario, but it could happen. Either way, the bowel evacuation produced one of the longest cartoon turds I've ever seen and that's something to be proud of.

Doing Everything Twice Isn't That Nice

Today has been one of those days where I've had to do everything twice. I had to get dressed twice (because bloating made me regret my first choice). I had to leave the house twice (because the first time I forgot the tampons associated with the aforementioned bloating). I had to leave the office twice for a meeting because I forgot my proposal. I had to go back to the restaurant after the meeting because I left my leather portfolio there. And now the computer just acted funny so I had to write this blog twice.

I might play the lottery on the way home and if I win the first time, I'll play again. If I'm doing everything twice, I might as well get some money out of it. It's just been one of those days. At one point in the day the most excitement I had had was learning we'd finally bought appropriate backcovers for our report binders.

However, I did get excited about a few other things and here they are in no particular order:

• The Colts dropped Jimmy "Handjob" Canada and picked up Adam Vinatieri. Wonder what his sexual indulgences will be. Nonetheless, it was great pick up. I'm exceptionally happy.
• One of the employees here spoke to the media on an issue I need media attention on without my help and I get to reap the benefits. That never happens.
• I went until noon without a frosty carbonated beverage and really didn't even notice it.
• I get to go home to Chef.
• There's a new "Lost" and the new "South Park" episode lampooning Chef on TV tonight.
• I can read more Assassination Vacation because I finished that wretched A Prayer for Owen Meany.
• It's five o'clock and I get to go home.

Word.

I've Got More PP Than Mississippi

I've been trying to incorporate more water into my daily intake and it's working. Well, sort of. I had to buy a couple of lemons to add to the miz. I add a slice of lemon by cutting it up into small pieces and jamming it down the neck of my water bottle. I get to use a knife and forceful action first thing in the morning. It's a good time.

However, the side effect is having to pee all day long. Luckily the bathroom isn't that far away, so it's not that bad. I pee a lot anyway and this is really upping the ante. I might have to invest in some Depends or a catheter if my productivity dips too low.

On a less urine-filled note, I'm reading Assassination Vacation by Sarah Vowell right now and it is fabulous. Although if you're a staunch Republican this is not the book for you. However, if you are politically neutral or liberal and just want a funny book about presidential assassinations, this is definitely a good. Or if you're just curious about how someone can find humor in presidential assassinations, it's also a good read.

Making Lemon Water out of Water & Lemons

Have you ever gotten past the age of 23 and stayed up deliciously late even though you knew that you'd be hurting at work the next morning? That's me today. I've had 4 hours sleep and was in shark mode until about 15 minutes ago when a call to Tivo pushed me over the edge.

I was mad, I was tired. Now I'm leaving. Chef says he'll let me sleep for a little bit before having to wake me, as to not mess with my sleep schedule so much. If he hadn't been given a crappy weekend-laden schedule, I wouldn't have been compelled to stay up until the wee hours of the morning to spend time with him. Damn Chef's employment!

No matter what the extra hours with him were worth the delirium.

The Sociology of Shit

Part One (10:14 a.m.): Totally will probably be a long day. I came to understand and accept that fact this morning when I pulled in to get a drink in a vacant parking lot of the gas station. When I was leaving, there was a car pulled up close next to me with about 9 inches of space for me to wiggle my ass through. There were NO other cars in the parking lot.

That's like searching the best toilet in a public restroom to take a shit in and having someone sit right next to you even though every other stall is open. I HATE that.

Speaking of public sit downs, I know some of you are a little apprehensive about taking the big S at work. I know this is a girl thing and it has to do with not wanting to be associated with a particularly bad smell or sound. Definitely understandable.

One day when I was working at a different job the lights went out. The ladies room smelled of poo. I would LOVE to do a psychological experiment on the effects of anonymity on the ability of women to shit in public.

I, however, was born without that embarrassment chip. In fact, with the plethora of people around work that I don't take kindly to, I've started playing a little game. After I've gone to the bathroom (which is right outside my office) and I've left my shit smell for others, I keep track of who's the first to walk in after I'm finished. I have a point system based on how much I like a person. There are two people here that I can't stand and they're worth the most points. It's a good time.

Part Two (10:27 p.m.): I was forced to listen to the IU game online. It's actually still going on, so I say these things not knowing the outcome. Because my onilne March Madness on Demand isn't working and the game is blocked out here, I had to find the game online. The only brocadast I could find was from San Diego State. Obviously I have a hard time listening to the opposing team's broadcast, but the guy doing the game (and it's only one guy) is horrible.

Things for him to note about Indiana:

• Bob knight would not "roll over in his grave, if he were dead" over the striped pants in the warm-up suits. They had them when he was there. And alive.
• It's Sean Kline. Not Steve Kline.
• It's Robert Vaden. Not Peter Vaden.
  
• After hearing it once, we can firmly know that Earl Calloway is not related to "Ricky Calloway, the former Hoosier who left Bob Knight."
• The Hoosiers haven't been "bad" since Bob Knight left. They actually were National Runners-Up in 2002.
  

Tom Cruise Made Him Do It

I'm so disappointed in Isaac Hayes. Here is a man that has no problem shilling for gambling aka lottery tickets, but now has the audacity to be pissed about moral wrongs.

Let me get this straight: He was an active participant in poking fun at racial stereotypes, disabilities and nearly every religion that the majority of Americans participate in, but Scientology crosses the line?

I'm calling Shenanigans! Now he has a problem with religious commentary, but in the ENTIRE episode about Mormons that the words "Dumb dumb dumb" were chanted in the background(All About the Mormons?) he was okay.

Don't suddenly throw around words like bigotry and hate without expecting a little sanctimonious backlash.

Honestly, I bet Tom Cruise or John Travolta put the squeeze on Ole Isaac to make him denounce his cash cow. As Matt Parker so aptly said "he's cashed plenty of checks -- with our shows making fun of Christians."

If you can smell a hypocrite like I can, click here and let Issac Hayes know that you're on to him.
Oh well, I was sick of the chocolate salty balls anyway.

Taking What I'm Given Cause I'm Working For A Living

That first day back after vacation sucks ass no matter you do to try to make it better. You can make it a Tuesday to shorten the week or avoid all appointments. No matter what you try to do to make it better, it's always going to end the same way: exhausting and bad.

Today was no exception. Chef and I spent last week in Tampa visiting my cousin and generally being a lazy ass in nice weather. Today I come back to thunderstorms. After a week at the Dali museum, the beach, and going out, it's back to Suck City, USA. Plus another person who was actually good at her job is leaving us. It was basically another slap in the face that it is time to get the hell out of dodge. In a couple of days, I'm going to start listing companies that I'd like to work at and asking everyone to scan their brains for any connections they might have at these companies.

On another note, while we were enjoying the Florida sun, Chef and I decided to make a nice meal for Doug and Erin for putting us up and putting up with us for a week. Actually, as his title infers, Chef cooked and I just helped shop. I also did dishes. Anyway, Chef made a world-class meal: Caesar salad, herbed roasted potatoes, chateaubriand with a red wine sauce, and strawberry cheesecake with two bottles of red wine. It was delicious. Plus it made me realize that he needs to come grocery shopping with me on occasion to have a nice meal at home. We have some nice meals, but not this nice. This was spectacular.

Oh well. Friday's only four days away.

Tyco with yo money? Geico for Your Money

Any day that starts off in the gynecologist office, is not bound to be a good day. Double that if you're there to have an "irregularity" check out. It doesn't matter if your doctor says "It's most likely nothing." Once you have to check off the box next to cancer in the "immediate family members ailments" section, your imagination starts freaking you out.

This freak out was no doubt compounded by the fact that I found out yesterday that one of the guys I used to harass in high school just died last week from...cancer. The rational side of me knows that the likelihood of cancer at my age is small. The irrational side of me starts remembering every episode of "Dateline" I've ever seen with a young cancer patient. My minds thinks of nothing but tears, wigs and how old Stone Phillip has gotten in the last couple of years. He's really starting to need the Barbara Walters filter now.

Anyway, I checked out "normal." So, that at least went okay.

This afternoon, however, I got into a small car accident. The car in front of me stopped short and I hit it. I only messed up my driver's side head light and a small dent in my hood. Chef and I were supposed to be off on our tour of Florida tomorrow, so I took it to get an estimate. The estimate came back for $2100 and at least 4 days out of commission. Ouch.

Thankfully I have insurance and that's what it's for, but obviously our trip will have to be delayed and it will be taken in a rental car. My insurance will pay for most of the rental car, but we'll have to shell out some too. Ugh! When we first got the estimate back, it sucked ass. Mostly because we'll have to wait until Monday to go anywhere. My first accident in 11 years and it comes the day before my vacation.

At least no one was hurt. That's what I'm supposed to say. And I can't really complain too much because nothing like this has really cramped my style in a while. God love insurance.

Ways to Appreciate Where I'm At More

The first way is to have to spend time in Birmingham, AL. For some reason my work always sends me to Birmingham. I've been there about 6 times and no one time stands out as particularly more fun than another. At this point, I'd rather visit Memphis than to hit Birmingham one more damn time.

I also never sleep well in the Big Birm. I'm thinking that I've gotten used to sleeping next to Chef and that I miss it when he's not there. He said he didn't sleep well either, but he's reluctant to give in to my theory.

I will, however, be driving through Birmingham in about week when Chef and I head back down to Florida. I'm so damn excited to be counting down the days until we leave. The only down side is that I know when we get back it'll be a long time before I go on vacation again.

On another note, is anyone else sick of the men's speedskaters "feud"? I'm so tired of hearing about the whining and bitching. The US only gives a shit about speedskating once every four years and these guys are going to use that time to air out personal grievances? Get over it.

Not only that, but men are shitty at feuding. Unless there's a tire iron involved somewhere, Nancy and Tanya did the catfighting better years ago. Leave the real rivalries to the ladies, you amateurs.

The Need for Weeds

Chef and I spent the better part of Sunday lounging around and watching TV. Actually, we spent a good deal of time watching the computer. Eager to test the video capabilities of the new iPod, we downloaded my favorite episode of The Office ("Office Olympics"). Then Chef suggested downloading the Showtime show Weeds.

He'd heard good stuff about it and so we downloaded the first episode. The next day we watched it off of the computer and we were hooked. I haven't heard a lot about this show because I don't have Showtime, but it's one of the best things I've seen in a long time. In fact, if Showtime gets Arrested Development from Fox, I'll definitely become a subscriber just for those two shows.

Weeds follows a suburban white woman, Nancy, from her PTA-friendly Uber-white planned neighborhood as she deals pot to her neighbors. Nancy is forced to make ends meet after her husband dies suddenly of a heart attack and turns to dealing weed to keep up her lifestyle. My favorite dialogue from the first episode came from the first five minutes of the show. When Nancy goes to her supplier's house, she questions the weight of one of Heylia's bags and comes to this response:

Heylia: "Child, I could eyeball an ounce of weed from outer space with cracked glasses."

Conrad: "Don't mess with Heylia. She's the Rainman of weed."

Anyway, it's a good time. The music in the show is pretty bitchin' too. Check it out on iTunes. We bought the whole season and it was the best money we've spent in a while.

On another note, what does say it about me that I watched an episode of 30 Days about binge drinking and thought the whole time "Man, a cocktail does sound good right now." I cracked open some wine about 5 minutes after the credits rolled.

The Olympics Ratings Jugger-Not

Am I the only one that's not entirely impressed with the Olympic coverage this year? I'm totally underwhelmed. None of the stories are really compelling me to watch when I can just log onto msn and spend 10 minutes reading a recap. Of course, this will probably change when Women's figure skating takes center stage, but that's still some days away.

First of all, snowboarding to me is like watching NASCAR or the X games: unless there's a huge crash, I don't want to sit through it. I've never skiied, luged or skeletoned in my life. Curling is reserved for my hair and if I can't even go backwards on skates, I highly doubt that I can work up any speed.

At least in summer sports, it's stuff that nearly everyone has or can do. Running, playing baseball or softball, basketball, table tennis, tennis. Normal sports. There's not much more of snowcross I can take.

I got my ipod yesterday and I've been rocking away since. I'm now spending the last of my friday afternoon figuring out what songs that I want to download this weekend and fill this badboy up. Song suggestions are always welcome. Unless they suck.

Two Things I Noticed AFTER I Got To Work

There are days when I'm in such a rush that I don't notice things that most people would. Like that I'm wearing a dark bra with a shirt that's not dark enough to conceal it. Or that my shoes were actually dark brown and not the black I thought they were.

Today there were two things that slipped my notice:

1. The underwear that I had chosen did not have sufficient elastic. In fact, their comfort was only because they had relatively no elastic. So by the time I had waddled out of the gas station, I was bending slightly at the waist to ensure they wouldn't head south before I hit the car.
2. My accessories choices made me look like a sparkly Avril Lavigne. I had a black skirt, purple top and black boots on, but I thought that my purple sequined scarf, big obnoxious purple "jewel" bracelet and black "power bead" bracelet would be a good combination. Instead, they added up to me looking like a pseudo-corporate punk rocker. If only I still had on my dark purple nail polish to complete the look.

I let my boss know today that just as I got back from vacation, I'm leaving again. Chef's spring break is in two weeks and we're already getting ready to go back to Florida. Not so much for the binge-drinking party all night Spring Break-a-palooza as much because it's not here. This kind of attitude cannot be good in the long run for our state of mind. Perhaps it's time for a relocation.

Married and Proud to Be Americans

I chuckle to myself when I say "all the snow." Where I'm at that usually means 1/2" or less. The newspaper around here ran a picture of kids playing in the mud outside that read "A Snow Day without The Snow."

Nonetheless Chef and I left it all behind us for the sunny shores of Florida. We had such a fabulous time that we started planning our return trip before we even left. So, we're almost certainly going back for Chef's spring break.

We drove A LOT in a little amount of time, but our time together was fabulous. It put everything in perspective. This trip was living. The rest of the things we'd been doing were not our real life. I just realized how stressed out I've been getting for no good reason. Getting away and reprioritizing did me some good.

My cousin Doug and his new bride Erin had a great wedding, but one of the oddest interludes that I'd ever witnessed. The DJ seemed like a nice enough guy, but one that needed to be the center of attention at all times. He was a biker buddy of the Erin's dad and liked to use the microphone more than an announcer at Shoe Carnival.

Before we knew what was happening, this guy had asked us all to get in a circle and join hands. Expecting some form of the chicken dance (the conga had already happened), I was reluctant. However, soon enough the words "Show that we're proud to be Americans" came out of his mouth and when I looked to my right, Chef had bolted.

That's right. We all stood there swaying with Doug and Erin looking incredibly uncomfortable while the DJ sang along to Lee Greenwood. I've never seen anything like it.

Hi Ho Hi Ho To Florida I Go

Today the weather turned cold and wet. The sunny morning gave way to a craptastically gray afternoon and now the nastiness is in full throttle which only means one thing: TIME TO GET OUT OF TOWN!!

I am so excited to be getting the hell out of here. And to a warmer place. Even if it rains, it won't be 30 degrees and it won't be here. Plus just being in a climate the can successfully grow palm trees instantly makes me feel better.

We don't get snow, so I can't bitch too much. However, in my travels, I'll be missing two of the worst events in our office so it's a double bonus.

Miss me!

No Reason for the Skin Reminders

Today I was sitting in on a conference call with several co-workers when I noticed that one of them had skin that reminded me of my mother. This lady had no resemblance to my mother at all. She has reddish hair, she's tall and she has a nose ring that would've made my mom cringe. But for some reason today the skin around her neck reminded me of mom.

There was a cluster of freckles and a tanned patch that reminded me of my mom's skin when I was younger. When our house had a pool and mom spent a good amount of time out in the sun watching us kids as we begged for attention while attempting a jack knife or cannonball. She'd always patiently look up from what she was doing (usually attending to the landscaping) and smile and clap no matter how badly our dive went.

I used to stare at that patch of skin at night when she'd rock me in our recliner. I'd sit and stare at her freckles, sometimes connecting the freckles with imaginary lines, and watch the oven clock slowly turn away the minutes. Every morning I'd wake up in my bed and wonder how I got there.

It didn't strike me as particularly weird for being reminded about some aspect of my mother. I've seen people in passing and thought "Wow! That woman walks like my mom" or even seen a guy who eerily reminded me of my grandfather.

What was odd was that I saw another woman this afternoon whose skin also reminded me of mom's, although at a totally different time in her life. The woman had a taut, almost yellow face with circles under her eyes and a chill went through me. I couldn't look away.

It's weird that after all these years, I can be living my life and get a physical reminder of her. Now I'm trying if there is a reason for the sightings or if I'm trying to find the reason in them.

On another note, my hair smells like chicken. I ate chicken at lunch and it squirted into my hair, which was lying on my boob shelf. Although I was happy that my shirt was spared the majority of the attack, it left me smelly for the rest of the day. In fact, even though I put my hair up in a pony tail, the smell of chicken still haunts me.