Thank God for yeti's notes.

As previously mentioned numerous times, I don't follow the news anymore, it's too damn depressing. But I did find this summary of recent White House events rather interesting. And I read it in 0.1% of the time it would've taken me to follow the whole story! Magic.

It all feels like a West Wing episode to me, though, when all is said and done. And I don't even WATCH West Wing. EVER. I am scared to know what that says of me.

"I have the feeling that my age is precarious..."

Watched Kinsey last night... Not much to report on the film itself. However!

About ten minutes into it, it clicked. The Kinsey Sicks. Call me deprived, call me sheltered, call me just plain ignorant, but I never got the name. NOW I get it. And how. (Take a listen to their audios or a peek at their videos if you've not heard of them... and if you're warped and twisted... which you all are in your own special ways, and you know it.)

"It's not that I'm lazy, it's that I just don't care."

Today during a meeting, a managerial type, more along the lines of a Bob Slydell than a Bill Lundberg,* spoke highly of the movie Office Space.

All I could think about for the next 15 minutes was what would happen if I asked him, "What would ya say you do here?"

Don't even ASK me about my TPS report story. That freakin' debacle just won't end.

________________
* So I guess it COULD be worse...

File under: ongoing required reading.

This. And this. And this.

What? You think I'm kidding?

Let me 'splain. No, there is too much. Let me sum up.

On the attitude check:
Lasted at least two hours the first day. After that, all bets were off. Sorry, I tried. It didn't help that I got three "NEED THIS RIGHT AWAY!!!" emails on Friday afternoon.

On Estes Park:
So when you drive west on highway 36, you drive through some cornfields, then you drive past Gay Street with the church on the corner ("and who would've thought, it figures"), then you start seeing very large boulders by the road, then you start to see mountains, then you round a curve and [insert heavenly music] there it is, in all its glory - Estes Park. (Esssssstes. Not Esteeeeeees.)

After checking in, I headed downtown to poke around and saw a double full arch rainbow. A DOUBLE FULL ARCH RAINBOW. This is a day when it's hard to wear a frooowwwn... Hope that cheap ass camera did the remotest bit of justice on that one.

Spent most of Saturday traipsing around Rocky Mountain National Park checking out all the lakes. Well, at least five of them anyway, and two massive waterfalls, and lots of mini waterfalls and chipmunks. Later, back to the park to do some driving - up Old Fall River Road and back down Trail Ridge Road - and then the Estes Park Brewery for a well-earned IPA.

I love this park. I love this place. Thirty-eight hours. What the hell was I thinking...

D'oh! The camera.

Rats. Judging from the disposable camera pictures my brother scanned from his visit, I'm in for disappointment. Oh well, at least I've been there before, for the most part.

But the Colorado rocky mountain high...

I've seen it rainin' fire in the sky
The shadow from the starlight is softer than a lullabye
Rocky mountain hiiiiiiiiiiiiigh...

And so I'm all packed for five days and four nights in fun-filled Colorado. Well, at least Friday evening through Sunday will be fun-filled. Can't guarantee the same for Wednesday through Friday. Checking my attitude at the door, though. Promise.

Everything fit into a fairly small duffel bag, and now I'm just waiting for the "oh shit" factor to kick in - the moment in time when I realize that I have forgotten to pack something large and important. This moment usually occurs on the plane, and the size and importance of the item is usually directly correlated to how far away I'm going. Going to LA for a night? Oh shit, forgot my toothbrush. Going to Belize for 7 days? Oh shit, forgot my gallon of SPF 50 sunscreen.

Double checking... Cool. The hiking boots are packed. Really now, on a trip to some of the best mountains this side of the Mississippi, what could be more large or important than those?

Because people like to say "sampayne."

And speaking of drinking before noon... Another fun thing to do with tourists (especially those who don't really care for wine but who do like the bubbly), is to go on a champagne tour in Napa. And then drink a bunch of champagne afterward. And then (of course!) hit the Neibaum Coppola museum and tasting room. On empty stomachs.

Good times, good times.

We also visited Old Faithful "Geyser" of California (apparently also known as Calistoga "Geyser", Little Old Faithful, or Mt. Saint Helena "Geyser"), which is really only fun if you've never seen a geyser before (note all the quotes around "geyser" in the various names), and the Petrified Forest of Calistoga, California, which is really only fun if you haven't spent the day drinking heavily.

And thus ended our Napa/Calistoga excursion, which was followed by... Hal Sparks! Hey, have I mentioned lately that I {heart} Hal Sparks?

Live from the archives.

Something I ran across a few nights ago while perusing my email archive from 2000:

I watched an ant climb a blade of grass this morning. When he reached the top, his weight bent the blade down to the ground. Then, twisting his thorax with insectile precision, he grabbed hold of the next blade. In this manner, he traveled across the lawn, covering as much distance vertically as he did horizontally, which amused and delighted me. And then, all at once, I had what is sometimes called an "epiphany", a moment of heightened awareness in which everything becomes clear. Yes, hunched over that ant on my hands and knees, I suddenly knew what I had to do...

Quit drinking before noon.

I didn't write it but I wish I had... However, other than little gems like these, I do not under any circumstances recommend reading old email archives, or journal entries, or letters from the past... Unless you have this burning desire to relive what a jackass you were back in the day (and how little you have changed in some areas over the past five years).

Sigh.

I've tried and I've tried, and I'm still mystified.

One thing I've wanted to do since moving here, was go to the Mystery Spot. I figured it would be cheesy and touristy, but I kept seeing those bumper stickers and wondering what it was all about... so my brother and I decided to go while we were in Santa Cruz. (Well, technically I decided. He was just along for the ride.)

Three outstanding mysteries about the Mystery Spot:

• The tour guide began the tour by stating that they were able to understand about 80% of the Mystery Spot, but they couldn't figure out the other 10%... What about the last 10%? It's a mystery!
• You get a free Mystery Spot bumper sticker after you complete the tour... Why, in Santa Cruz, California of all places, did someone feel the need to put their bumper sticker over my sorryeverybody.com bumper sticker?* It's a mystery!
• We spent $8 each to visit this site... Was it worth $16? It's a mystery!
  

It was cheesy and touristy at times, but not overly so. And while it was interesting, I didn't really understand a lot of it - partly because it was hard to discern optical illusions from the "true" mystery, and partly because I don't remember one single thing from my 11th grade physics class. But I got to be taller than my brother several times throughout the tour... and that made it all worthwhile.

________________
* Fortunately they just slapped it on, and it peeled off without any trouble. My brother (the Republican) got a big kick out of that though.

I {heart} Hal Sparks.

Last night my brother and I went to a show at Cobbs Comedy Club.* It was a lovely evening, chock full o'laughs all around, but the highlight of the show for me was getting to meet Hal Sparks afterward. I got to shake his hand and say thanks and tell him how funny he was. (He wasn't HIGH-larious, but he was pretty funny.)

My first brush with fame. Hey, he's no Bono, but given my complete adoration of him in "Queer as Folk" and "I Love the [insert decade of choice]", shaking his hand was damn exciting for me.

THEN! We (my brother and I, not Hal Sparks and I) went to dinner after the show, and while walking back to the car we saw Hal Sparks! Again! Just walking down the street with his friends! So my brother says "Hey Hal Sparks! I saw your show tonight!" and shook his hand. And Hal Sparks was very gracious and friendly. And that was pretty random and cool.

And THEN! Today we were driving around the 49-mile scenic tour and right there, in Fisherman's Wharf, we saw Hal Sparks! Again! Getting into a cab! So my brother leans out the left backseat window (quite a feat from the passenger seat) and says "Hey Hal Sparks!" and gets a picture of him waving somewhat confusedly and/or annoyedly. But still graciously. And that was pretty random and cool.

At that point we ditched the 49-mile scenic tour for a few minutes and made up our own "Where's Hal Sparks" game (akin to "Where's Waldo"), where we pictured ourselves running into Hal Sparks in various places throughout the day and in our everyday lives. We wondered what would've happened if we'd offered him a ride to wherever he was going. We pondered whether another sighting and "Hey Hal Sparks!" exclamation from my brother would warrant a restraining order. And we questioned whether "Hal Sparks" was really his name... ??

Good times, good times.

More on this week's antics to come.

________________
* For the record: Cobbs is no longer in the Cannery - it's now about six blocks up on Columbus. Let ye be warned.

Friday five.

In honor of my brother's recent visit, I bring you the top five things we pseudo-natives tend to forget about the Bay Area (or at least I tend to forget):

• The number of cars without license plates. I've had a number of visitors point this out to me, and having recently purchased a vehicle and not gotten plates for about six months I can now explain, firsthand (and in exactly four words if you count "DMV" as one word), why this is so.
• How big California really is. I had it in my head that we could hit Santa Cruz and Monterey in a day, easily. We hit them both in one day, but there wasn't much ease about it.
  
• How bloody much there is to DO here. Three point five days, approximately eight sights seen, approximately 4,689 sights skipped over in favor of the eight. In DC, eight sights would take about a day. (OK I exaggerate just a bit. But, particularly in June, you'd be lucky to hit one sight before you high-tailed it back to your hotel and hit the pool.)
  
• How healthy we all are, generally speaking. Must be a reflection of all the vegetarian non-smoking mountain-biking bottled-water-drinking types.
• How much fun Pier 39 can be, if you're in the mood.
  

Tom Shane vs George Zimmer... only one will survive.

One of the least enjoyable things about living in the Bay Area: Tom Shane. His voice gives me the creeps, his radio commericals are intolerable, and in fact the most recent radio commercials have him sounding like he's barely paying attention to the question asked of him before replying. BAD advertising. BAD. I'll take Men's Warehouse radio ads over his any old day.

And today at the gym someone had turned on The View and one of their segments reminded me of that bank ad on the radio that talks about how kids get rewarded for losing teeth, but adults don't get rewarded for losing their car keys. (I can't remember how that part ties into the bank part, but it does.) Anyway this segment had viewers voting online for the most disgusting bathroom, and the winner got a free remodeling job. This particular winner didn't seem particularly "needy" in the traditional sense of the word - she seemed to have just neglected to clean her bathroom for about 15 years. As a result, she was rewarded with a free remodeling job.

People. I ask of you. What kind of behavior is this instilling in our youth?? I mean, entire shows centered around household neglect on TLC are one thing (especially when said shows come with hot hosts/carpenters), but to feature such a thing on such a reputable show* as The View? That's just wrong.

_______________
* Yes, I am kidding. But not about the "what kind of behavior is this perpetuating" concept... Even with TLC.

It's no longer raining men, hallelujah!

Today I went from approximately eight straight (no pun intended) fun-filled hours of KGAY to Glen Phillips at the Great American Music Hall. Talk about culture shock... Not quite the culture shock intensity level of going from rafting down the cool calm Colorado River in the Grand Canyon to the NEON LIGHTS IN DISGUSTINGLY HOT HUMID VEGAS in the period of about three hours, which I will never willingly do again. I would definitely do today all over again.

I am 100% certain that no one reading this shares my emotional connection to Toad the Wet Sprocket. (I'm actually fairly certain that no one has even heard of that band.) But he was their founder, and he did an admirable number of their songs tonight, and they are all stuck in my head right now. And despite the fact that those songs are mostly about dysfunctional adult relationships, that makes me very, very happy.

In keeping with the interest of belated top fives, which will not be a regular occurrence but is here because a) I can't seem to do this in time for Fridays, like, EVER and b) it came to mind tonight during the show, I hereby bring you the top five voices I would marry in a heartbeat. Regardless of the person attached to the voice - partly because these persons are, generally speaking, already married - but mostly because of the obvious limitations of this concept - in no particular order, the voices (of more people you have probably never heard of) that I would marry are:

• Glen Phillips
  
• Jack Johnson
• Grant Lee Phillips
  
• Shawn Mullins
  
• Mark Kozelek

Please note that this list is subject to change at a moment's notice depending on my mood at that particular moment. Sometimes Michael Stipe can really do it for me. (OK, really now, am I a gay man?!)

One small step.

Ashcroft Gone, Justice Statues Disrobe

SOOOOO Bay Area.

AKA the post-Friday five. The other morning KFOG did a listener survey of what "sooooo Bay Area" means. It made me think... And so I bring you what "SOOOOO Bay Area" means to me, in no particular order:

• KGAY, when Live 105* turns its station over to the likes of the Bee Gees, Erasure, New Order, Depeche Mode, Culture Club, DISCO!,** etc. for three days each Pride weekend.
• Being able to drive 2 hours in any direction and hit beautiful mountains, or stunning beaches, or both.
• More liberal bumper stickers per car than anywhere else in the United States.
• June 25, 64 degrees fahrenheit.
• I will never own a home here.
  

Add your own!

I guess "SOOOOOOO not east coast " would also be an explanation. On the way to my first temp job when I moved here (almost eight years ago - wow!), the person sharing the elevator ride with me started a pleasant small-talk coversation. I'd honestly never experienced that back east and it freaked me out. There's just a different vibe out here.***

________________
* I love this station in general, even though I don't always like the music they play. Any station that announces the days, hours, minutes and seconds that have passed since the last time they played Creed (last count: a looooong time) is a damn fine station in my book.

** Between my total thrill with this weekend's musical selections and my recent obsession with Queer as Folk, I'm beginning to wonder if I'm really a gay man trapped in the body of a straight woman. (OK, I'm probably just nostalgic for that music and curiously fascinated with the show, but hey, it's kinda funny to think about.)

*** And the award for stating the obvious goes to...

Damn.

Oh well, fellow former-Aquarians, we tried. At least the million robot march was successful.

"Bloody brilliant! Literally!"

For once, an IMDB user comment I agree with (and will therefore quote freely, though I reserve the right to correct punctuation and capitalization). Shaun of the Dead had me laughing out loud, heartily and often. "Clever, witty, sweet and nasty and, at times, gory and horrific, SOTD has it all." A lot of thought went into this film - it's really evident in much of the dialogue and in the scenes where Shaun is watching TV. "This film should be seen side by side with Romero's Dawn of the Dead as both films cleverly and sarcastically comment on our zombified society and virtually show no difference between the living and the living dead." I must argue that SOTD has many more amusing pop culture references than DOTD, though.

"SEE THIS FILM!!! You do NOT have to be a fan of horror movies to appreciate the sublime satire that is Shaun of the Dead."

Word.

Oh, and watch for cameos of some of our favorite, and not so favorite, English folk. (Pardon me. Favourite.)

How to be productive at work.

CANCEL ALL EXISTING MEETINGS IMMEDIATELY. For the past two days I have had NO MEETINGS. And over the past two days I literally checked off almost everything with a deadline on my to-do list. The few remaining deadlined items, I can easily complete tomorrow (despite the fact that I'm booked pretty solidly all day). And vacation can begin at 5pm - as it should.

This might sound like common sense, meeting-free days resulting in uber-productivity. But it has been a looooooong time since I felt like I got anything done at work, anything at all, and particularly anything of any quality, and I am starting to think it's because of all the meetings. Several regular gatherings are very useful, several are fun to go to (for various reasons), but the rest of them are just annoyingly time consuming.

On a totally-related note, how is it possible to have a blog and not talk about work? I spend [ ... pause while I do the math ... ] approximately 35-40% of my waking hours per week there.

YIKES. I sooooo should not have done that math.

Gay schmay.

Proof that Kyan and I are destined for each other (despite the fact that he "thinks" he's gay): his iTunes playlist. REM? Joy Division? U2? Jane's Addiction? Morrisey?

Man, we are soooooo meant to be.

Weird conversations du jour.

This afternoon... Ikea chair delivery guy, who apparently knew his Ikea deliveries and whose mind was clearly elsewhere, to other Ikea chair delivery guy: "Wow! This whole apartment is from Ikea! There's the matching Karlanda sofa... That's a Billy bookcase with glass doors, there's a Lack coffee table, that's the Skyberg side table... and they come in different colors too! Birch, beech..." Me: "Veneer..." Ikea chair delivery guy: "Beer? There's a color named beer?"

Outside the Albertson's tonight... Needy person asking for money: "Spare some change?" Me: "No, sorry." Needy person: "What the HELL you carrying a purse for if you don't got no change?"

For your (guilty) viewing pleasure...

A few shows I have been watching lately... All are utter crap, but in the train-wreck-can't-help-but-watch sense of the word. Shockingly, they are all on MTV/VH1.

Viva La Bam: It's been on forever but only recently have I become addicted. What can I say... He's hot, they're all certifiably insane, and every episode is another notch on my "hell no I'm not having kids" belt.

Pimp My Ride: Xzibit takes us on a tour of the crappiest cars in the universe, then turns them into the most ridiculous modes of transportation one could imagine. His mockery of the original car's state, and the 'board meeting' where all the tattooed guys with metal spikes coming out of their faces sit around a table with straight faces deciding what to do with the car, are totally worth my 30 minutes. Totally.

Strip Search: Fifteen moderately attractive guys with the maturity level of four year olds, competing for seven spots in a traveling striptease act. The drama that ensues is far greater than any episode of Seventh Heaven, let me tell you!

And, sadly, yes, Inferno II, which has long since been over but they keep replaying it and replaying it and replaying it... I think I only watch it because of Dan, the finest, funniest gay man east of the Mississippi.

I'm sure there are more that I'm forgetting. Sigh. Think it's probably time to update my Netflix queue...

30 Days, then back to your plushy lifestyle.

I guess I understand what he is trying to accomplish. After all, I watched and loved Super Size Me. But I'm not sure how I feel about this new show - perhaps because the topic I saw tonight (Minimum Wage) was really insulting - probably because of my volunteer life. Pretend to be poor for 30 days and then when you're done, go back to your swank New York apartment and on to the next gig. Why not pick a topic and actually DO SOMETHING about it? Hell, with the Oscar nomination under your belt you could easily take down McDonald's, one franchise at a time.

Oh, right. But then FX wouldn't pay you for it.

Maybe I've been watching too much of the Awful Truth lately, where actions are actually taken and bad people are actually brought to justice. Regardless, I don't think I'll be watching 30 Days again.

Friday five: how to keep your sanity at work.

Stolen from a very old, very extensive list of suggestions in my email archive. My five favorites, in no particular order:

• Every time someone asks you to do something, ask if they want fries with that.
• Put mosquito netting around your work area. Play a tape of jungle sounds all day.
• When the money comes out the ATM, scream, "I won!" "I won!" "3rd time this week!!!!!"
• Finish all your sentences with "in accordance with the prophecy."
• Put your garbage can on your desk and label it "in."

Off to the gym for more closed-captioning fun! Happy weekend everyone.

Must. See. Immediately.

Why was I not informed of this? According to the Dish, Colin Hart, director of the Christian Institute, fumes, "genuine religious debate and criticism is one thing, but this public service broadcast was an offensive, spiteful, systematic mockery and wilful denigration of Christian belief" and previously described the show as "the most offensive and spiteful show ever broadcast by the BBC."

AWESOME!!!

Attention, fine residents of California.

It's called rain. R-A-I-N. It doesn't sting you, burn you, melt you, or otherwise hurt you in any way, shape or form. It's really only water. Really. I promise.

Now please learn how to drive when it occurs.

Thank you!

File under: If I Hear This One More Time...

Lately my life (meaning work and extracurricular activies - I have no actual life per se) has consisted of a lot of people saying, in so many words, "thanks so much for all you do it's soooo appreciated you're so great oh and by the way here's a shitload more crap for you to do since you don't have much choice but to grin and take it."

It's gotten to the point where the "thanks so much" piece is just incredibly condescending and worthless and I just wait for the shitload of more crap. I know that part of it is my own fault - in some situations I'm a control freak who wants to be sure that things are done right, so I go above and beyond and, in doing so, set my own bar really high. And I know that part of it is pure cynicism, which I am trying to work on.

But the rest of it is just patronizing. Maybe if I thought that any what I was doing was remotely helpful or worthwhile in any sense, I might feel differently. But I don't, so I don't.

Therein lies my main issue with my "life" right now. And boy, if I had an ounce of energy to address it, I would change it... But I don't, so I don't. Lather, rinse, repeat again tomorrow.

Overheard on a conference call today...

... from someone who was attempting to summarize a particularly complex conference call for clarity: "Now I get to play my meathead role."

Also known from here on out as: my new disclaimer.

What to my wondering eyes should appear...

The perfect ending to an otherwise crappy day was a package containing TWENTY-FOUR CDs, including music I haven't heard for about twelve years...

Now Cracker! Now Primus! Now Elvis Costello and Offspring! On White Stripes, on Ozzy, on Mos Def, on [bunch of new things]!

I sprang to my computer and imported every single one; after an hour plus iPod update I was finally done. Donning headphones and sliding into bed with the greatest of ease, at last I was off to dreamland to sail the Seas of Cheese.

Thanks, Cousin Jay...

________________
Twenty-four = Christmas Eve. Twelve = days of Christmas. Package o' stuff = Christmas. See? This was justified.

Things that made me tired today.

In no particular order...

My crazy dream about a crazy ex-coworker. Technology. Being the (only) one to offer up a few hours of her evening in an attempt to make sure things go a little more smoothly tomorrow. Having to buy a lunch because no veggie options were available. The amount of extracurricular work I was going to have to do tonight. People checking email through the whole training session. The prospect of another day just like today.

And so back to work.

Tryin' hard to look like Gary Cooper.

I am still grappling with the concept that my company has a corporate rate at the Ritz. I walked into my room last night to find classical music playing softly in the background, robes at my disposal, the plushest towels and pillows I could ever imagine, and regal curtains adorning the windows. My coworker and I hit the bar for a quick drink-and-rant, and I felt supremely out of place in my tye-dye t-shirt and ratty tennis shoes. Yeah, I don't get out much.

Tonight I was a little surprised to find that they didn't put the ironing board away while they were straightening the room. The bath mat (the one with the rubber padding on the bottom) was folded on the bathroom sink, which was kind of odd. The end of the toilet paper roll wasn't folded into a neat little triangle. And I still couldn't figure out how the hell to set the alarm. My opinion started to waver.

But then I got a rose, and the best damn sourdough rolls I've had in years, with my room service and all was forgiven.

Super duper.

Good to know.

I learned last night that I can get the same Wilco show at home on my couch with the CDs, that I can by paying money to see them live.

For the record, the same can be said for Cake and the Pretenders. Don't get me wrong - I'm glad to have seen all of them live, but I probably won't be paying money to do that ever again.

All I want for Christmas...

Aw, c'mon. It's only $130,000 dollars at Costco!!

Because no one died when Clinton lied...

The "email your friends" text from the confirmation screen of a petition I just signed:

Hi,

I thought you might want to join me in asking Senators to speak up about the Downing Street Minutes. They were secret minutes taken at a meeting with British Prime Minister Tony Blair -- they document that the Bush Adminstration made the decision to go to war in Iraq no matter what the intelligence or the truth about the threat. We have to alert the American public about them.

Senator Kennedy is speaking out about this memo, ask your Senator to do the same:

http://www.tedkennedy.com/page/petition/downingstreet/fdfzzp

Senator Kennedy said the following about these Minutes:

"The contents of the Downing Street Minutes confirm that the Bush Administration was determined to go to war in Iraq, regardless of whether there was any credible justification for doing so. The Administration distorted and misrepresented the intelligence in its attempt to link Saddam Hussein with the terrorists of 9/11 and Osama bin Laden, and with weapons of mass destruction that Iraq did not have.

In addition, the Downing Street Minutes also confirm what has long been obvious – that the timing of the war was linked to the 2002 Congressional elections, and that the Administration’s planning for post-war Iraq was incompetent in all its aspects. The current continuing crisis is a direct result of that incompetence."

Please stand with Senator Kennedy and ask your Senator to speak out:

http://www.tedkennedy.com/page/petition/downingstreet/fdfzzp

Thanks!

Please leave a comment about any other relevant links to petitions or information about this if you have it... This is what I get for actively avoiding all news sources like the plague for the last 3 weeks. I had no idea there was even buzz about this.

A little coincidence and a little serendipity.

Yesterday I had to fly to LA for an afternoon meeting. Everything was going great - I got up on time, even tried to go to the gym* before heading to the airport, and got to the airport with plenty of time to spare (unlike last time when I was one of those people I absolutely hate, who runs to the front of the security line waving their itinerary frantically while everyone else wonders why they got up two hours early instead of pulling that same stunt).

But then IT happened.

Not having anyone with me to watch my stuff, I had to shlep everything including my full cup of coffee into the bathroom with me. I was worried about leaving my coffee on the sink counter - I didn't want anyone to throw it away - so I took it into the stall with me.

Note to fellow Oaklanders: the t.p. roll holders at Oakland airport are not completely flat, but if you're careful and lucky, you can balance a cup of coffee on them successfully. Suffice to say that "careful" and "lucky" were not on my side yesterday. The stall next to me became immediately occupied with a door-slammer and there I was with coffee literally ALL OVER my nice "trying to look like I have a professional job" shirt and pants.

Before I got mad or sad or upset in any way, I took a moment to reflect on Zack's post from a few days ago, and after that moment, said to myself, "yeah well you kinda knew that would happen, really now, didn't you?", put my jacket on over my coffee-stained shirt, and left the bathroom figuring I'd just wear my jacket for the rest of the day. About 10 minutes later, to my complete and utter shock, it turned out that the coffee blended so well with my avocado button-down that it wasn't even visible after it dried, and the pants were black so it really didn't matter. MAGIC! Even more magic when the afternoon meeting we were all dreading ended up going really well instead.

And then a little serendipity when it was time to head back to the airport... I asked a local (or so I thought) at the meeting for help getting a cab, and he ended up not being a local but as a result had a really good taxi service that he called for me. I spent the 20 minute ride to the airport talking with the Hungarian ex-patriot driver, who came to the States because his government sucked even more then than ours does now, and who used to be a rural veternarian and is seeking to continue practicing here in the States. He and I made a promise to each other that even though it's expensive, and even though a lot of our school credits are no longer useful so it will be hard, and even though some situations you find yourself in are not entirely pleasant, we will pursue becoming practicing vets on the West Coast.

I'm not entirely sure what that means. I've been thinking about it a lot though. Everything happens for a reason, eh?

__________________
* "Tried" being the operative word... It seems that, as usual, you get what you pay for. My $18/month gets me a lot of days of an empty-other-than-me gym, and the occasional day when the building security system doesn't trip the gym door locks at 6am like it should, and I end up sitting outside the door with the trainers for about 15 minutes before I give up and go home.

May I have my attention please?

Tomorrow morning, when I wake up to the alarm at 6:00am, which is really 5:25am because the only way I will psych myself out to get up is to set my alarm randomly early, and I hit the snooze till 7:30am, I need to acknowledge that snoozing for 90 minutes will only serve to make myself more tired than if I just got up and went to the damn gym as intended.

So - get my ass out of bed at 6:00am tomorrow.

No, um, really, don't panic.

The end is near... Oh well, at least it will get me out of all my work and extracurricular responsibilities.

I guess the other way to interpret this, if not in the Hitchhiker's way, is to say that females are smarter than males in other species too! Hah.

Hoots pa.

Two more long-overdue amusing closed captioning sightings:

1) The night the viagra/blindness story broke, they were referring to erectile dysfunction and I SWEAR TO GOD I AM NOT KIDDING one time it said "erectile did I function." No offense to anyone with this disorder - I'm sure it's traumatic and nothing to joke about etc., etc. - but between the irony of the myth and this particular mistype, good lord I nearly fell off the treadmill.

2) Last Friday I was reading along to the Michael Jackson story on whatever station was on when I got there, and there was mention of him not having the "hoots pa" to stand up to his father.

New phrase to incorporate into everyday writing: hoots pa.

And the Oscar for best crying scenes goes to...

... Imelda Staunton for Vera Drake. I didn't dislike this movie. I didn't love it either. I can't give really good reasons for either of those oh-so-eloquent critiques. She did cry a lot in the movie, though, that's for sure.

While I was out.

Got a catalog in the mail yesterday from Design Within Reach. I'm really not sure whose "reach" they are within, other than "not mine." But it did inspire me to seek out a chair for my bedroom like I've been meaning to do for weeks now. So off to Ikea I went.

Those of you who hated my orange corduroy "captain's log" chair will be sorely disappointed with my purchase. Those of you who loved it (which I am guessing, really just comes down to me and the cat) will be pleasantly surprised with the new dark red corduroy chair. I just offer the caveat that it is called the Lunna chair, so minus an "n" how could I resist? (It also totally matches the rest of the decor in that room, and it's really comfy...)

She has yet to grace the chair with her presence but given how little I paid for it, I won't be too sad when she uses it as a scratching post like she did the orange one.

I also bought a matching armchair for my couch, which cost me about five times as much as the red corduroy chair. So in some karmic universe it all balances out... Right?

The almost-Friday five.

My favorite five song lyrics at the moment, in no particular order, and for various reasons:

• "I have a tendency to wear my mind on my sleeve, I have a history of losing my shirt" (Barenaked Ladies)
• "Take a long drown with me of California wine" (The Decemberists)
• "We've got rules and maps and guns in our backs but we still can't just behave ourselves even if to save our own lives so, says I, we are a brutal kind" (The Shins)
• "I was always brave and kind of righteous, now I find I’m wavering... crawl out of your grave, you find this fight just doesn’t mean a thing" (Buffy)
• "If no out there understands you start your own revolution and you cut out the middleman" ... followed closely by "the revolution is just a t-shirt away" and "if you've got a blacklist I want to be on it" in the same song (Billy Bragg)

Add your own!

Auras and readings and healings, oh my.

Today I participated in a group aura photo. I think it was originally intended as a gag gift for someone's birthday, and I think some of the participants still think of it as that... But I was very intrigued by the whole thing. When the people conducting things like aura photos/readings/healings/etc truly seem to believe in what they are doing, it's surprisingly hard for me not to believe in it too.

The psychics were quite patient with us as we did our group photo, though I'm convinced they were cringing inside at our seven clashing auras the entire time. We only got one copy of the good one and all I really recall in terms of being able to interpret it, is a bright splash of yellow near one of the people. "In good health and friendly..." Yeah, that sounds about right.

They do pet aura photos too (and pet aura photo/reading combos, all of which I must admit I am not at all likely to buy into). But if I did, and if I could get her to sit still long enough, Luna's aura would be DARK RED. I'm pretty sure of that.

Low prices and inhumane working conditions aren't all they offer!

Attention single folk: "keep checking your circulars; the trend could arrive soon." Awwwwwriiiight!!

(In light of my post a few days ago, is this a spooky coincidence, or is it just me?)

Random sightings.

Speaking of ye olde bus stop, there is a guy who occasionally graces its presence, who I've been slightly intrigued with but have never approached, which isn't really surprising given my own weariness with people who talk to me* at the bus stop. He's not incredibly attractive or anything - I think I've been intrigued because he lives down the street from me and it would be rather convenient. And he reads the paper every day.

My standards have lowered significantly since hitting 20-10.

Anyway, I saw him this weekend at Target... He was perusing the "food" department.

He didn't even need to meet up with his girlfriend a few minutes later. Perusing the Target "food" department did him in for me. The girlfriend was the nail in the coffin.

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* In addition to the aforementioned late-for-jury-duty person, there's also Crazy Cat Lady, who for all intents and purposes is harmless, she just likes to show you a picture of her cat (who looks an awful lot like dearly departed Riley) and tell you the SAME CAT STORY OVER AND OVER AND OVER again. You tolerate it because you know that's going to be you someday.

And then there's Jesus Freak, who tries to get you to come to her church but also tells you fun stories about her and her boyfriend who only wants her for sex (mind you she's, like, SIXTY, no offense to any older readers but, EEEEEW) and who she gets into the occasional all-out fistfight with.

Gotta love public transportation.

Attention, members of society.

Three pieces of advice:

1. Do not blame the public transportation system for the fact that you overslept and now you're going to be late for jury duty. (The bus isn't late, you are. How dare you interrupt my morning listen of Bright Eyes to complain to me about it... I wear headphones at the bus stop for a reason. Tell it to the judge, haha.)

2. Do not blame the American Red Cross for making you read the "what you should know about giving blood" sheets every time you give blood. (So many things wrong here, not the least of which is that you could read the sheets fourteen THOUSAND times over before you are actually called even though you scheduled an appointment, so it's not like it's delaying you in the slightest. You still got in ahead of me, so shut your piehole already.)

3. Do not waste airtime voicing these complaints around me because it will only reinforce the fact that I genuinely dislike people as a whole.

Thank you!

Damn you, Murphy, damn you.

And I don't mean Peter Murphy, who apparently has a new album out, which I should investigate. I mean Mr. Murphy - THE Murphy, of 's law fame. So I buy these expensive fancy schmancy cookie sheets with the intention of baking the world's greatest oatmeal raisin cookies to take to some coworkers tomorrow, and batch after batch turned out like crap. I think I did something wrong in the batter, but it's much more satisfying to blame the fancy schmancy cookie sheets (even though I also tried an old cookie sheet to no avail).

Also this weekend...

In Good Company: I stand corrected. If Dennis Quaid sticks to middle-aged washed up sales guys, he will do just fine in what remains of his career. About the movie though... It was cute and endearing and all that shit. But it reminded me too much of my job and left me wishing I had Garden State readily available. So, thumbs hovering midway on that one.

The Sea Inside: OK. I didn't dislike this movie, exactly - in fact I was engaged throughout, but I really didn't see what all the fanfare was about. Oscar worthy? Not that I've seen any of the others, but... really? Again, midway thumbs - but closer to up than down for sure.

Don Cheadle mania.

The United States of Leland: I don't know how to describe it - Donnie Darko meets American Beauty meets... Elephant? Which might explain why I really, really liked pieces of this film and really, really disliked other pieces. The concept of ridding people of sadness was intriguing, but the copout of "I'm human" to explain mistakes made was maddening. At any rate, Cheadle was fantabulous. (So were Martin Donovan and Ryan Gosling.)

Hotel Rwanda: I don't even know what to say. Other than, that Cheadle was robbed at the Oscars. ROBBED... And also, I cried my eyes out and temporarily felt bad for living in a nice apartment in a free country. Sadly, the bad feeling didn't last. That truly bothers me immensely - but hey, look, I have wine and pizza and a brand new fancy schmancy cookie sheet! Mission distraction-from-real-life accomplished.

90 minutes well spent.

It's really sad that it took me an hour and a half to figure out how to add a sidebar section to this template... but it did. Four years ago I could've updated the whole shebang in 15 minutes flat.

But there it is, in all its glory! I also ditched the stupid template profile in exchange for my own scaled down version. Minor things, aesthetic- and content-wise, but achievements none the less.

Yay me!

Isn't it ironic, part II...

FDA Looking into Blindness-Viagra Link.

... it's like rain on your wedding day ...

Because we needed more proof that Tom Cruise was a moron.

From a recent Dish:

Tom Cruise has criticized Hollywood pal Brooke Shields' "misguided" use of the anti-depressant Paxil, while declaring the actress' career as over.

In an interview with Billy Bush on TV's "Access Hollywood" to be screened on Thursday, Cruise speaks of his disappointment to learn Shields used Paxil to fight post-natal depression following the birth of her daughter Rowan.

Shields is currently weaning herself off her medication so she and husband Chris Henchy can have another child.

Cruise says actress should have used vitamins to help her feelings of despair.

Cruise says, "Here is a woman, and I care about Brooke Shields because I think she is an incredibly talented woman. You look at, where has her career gone?"

Cruise maintains, "These drugs are dangerous. I have actually helped people come off.

"When you talk about postpartum, you can take people today, women, and what you do is you use vitamins. There is a hormonal thing that is going on, scientifically, you can prove that. But when you talk about emotional, chemical imbalances in people, there is no science behind that.

"You can use vitamins to help a woman through those things."

I don't even care if he's correct (not that I really think he is). He's a MAN. Therefore he has no right to speak on this topic. Oh, and for the record, coming back from absolutely nothing for many years, and having a successful TV show for several years, and then dropping fame to have a baby and be a responsible parent, is where her career has gone.

Bloody moron.

Isn't it ironic...

Find Luddite Groups in Your Area!

... don'tcha think?

All work and no play...

... makes me a very cranky girl.

In other news, recently viewed (though not tonight, because I was doing a little of my paid and a LOT of my unpaid job tonight, not that I'm COMPLAINING or anything, um, haha):*

The Best Years of Our Lives: another oldie but goodie. Fredric March put in a(nother) fine performance as the town drunk, and the film itself was a timeless tale of what happens when soldiers return from the war. This is just going to suck by comparison.

Miracle: OK, confession time. I am a hockey fan. A big hockey fan. There, I admit it. I have been for years and years - though, being on the west coast without easy access to viewing the games of all the tremendously talented east coast teams (ahem Sharks suck ahem) has left me lagging in my attention to the game. Lucky for me, it didn't really matter this season...

Anyway! I knew of the story behind this movie, but was too young to experience the thrill when it happened. The film was a pretty excellent re-enactment (once you got past the Disney angle... yeah, sure, he never swore at them... riiiiiiight). The director put a lot of effort into making the movie as close to real life as he possibly could, down to choosing hockey players/actors who looked like the original teammates and choreographing the moves of the players during the games to match those in the original games. So, in summary, I liked this movie a lot. And I need hockey season this fall DAMMIT. Do you hear me, you greedy bastards?? (Kidding. Sorta.)

In yet other news, I love the Shins.

And to all, a good night.

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* For those of you wondering, yes, I have nothing better to do in my spare time than watch movies, because that's usually about all I have the brainpower to handle. It's a tough job but someone's gotta do it!

What to do with your spare time in 80 years.

In a recent issue of Mother Jones, they declared that "global warming is slowing the earth's rotation [such that] by the end of the 21st century, we'll have gained an extra 0.11 milliseconds per day." So those of us looking for more time in the day shall get our wish. Hooray for depleting ozones!

Also noted:

• The snows of Kilimanjaro are rapidy vanishing.
• Arctic sea ice is up to 40% thinner than it was in the 1960s.
• The first recorded South Atlantic hurricane was in March 2004.
• Lake Chad* covered 9650 square miles in 1963. Today it covers less than 500.
  

And most importantly:

• A melting glacier in the Yukon revealed an 8-foot-tall, half-mile-long pile of ancient caribou dung.

Again I ask, has our government seen The Day After Tomorrow?

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* Lake Chad is in Africa. Footnote provided for those of you who might not know where that lake was, because you did not hear a 6th grade geography report read by a girl who was obsessed with the country of Chad on the continent of Africa ... chosen specifically because the boy she liked was named Chad.

My report was on Peru. All I remember about Peru is that their capital is Lima (pronounced leeeema not lyma). I did not like a boy named Peru. I chose Peru because there wasn't a country named "Chris" at the time. Still don't think there is. They should do something about that. Get those kids involved in their educations, I say!

Why I don't own a house.

Because if I did, I would've been charged a ridiculously enormously scary amount of money for the repair guy to come out and look at my oven to determine the problem, whereas being a renter, I merely got a phone call from my building manager advising me to try this and that. And "this" ended up working. Which means homemade pizza for dinner!

And THAT, my friends, is why I don't own a house.

Fast as lightning.

Recently viewed...

Runaway Jury, which could've been subtitled Runaway With Any Ounce of Hope Or Faith I Ever Had In Our Justice System: up until the end I was interested (and mortified and disgusted). But then the end came and I felt betrayed by Hollywood... as I am wont to do. And then I found myself distracted with wondering how different the movie would've been had Gene Hackman and Dustin Hoffman been playing each others' roles instead of the ones they were cast for... He who can do no wrong* was his usual fine self though.

Kung Fu Hustle: worth every penny of my $3 Parkway matinee admission. And then some.

_________________
* Say what you will about Serendipity, America's Sweethearts, Pushing Tin, Conair, etc. Go ahead. I will stick my fingers in my ears and sing LALALALALALALALALA until you are done.

Kinda makes you want a seven-course meal, followed by a siesta.

This is a complete insult to my mom, who made a hell of a chicken pot pie back in the day. Why does everything have to come in a box? Why does every fast food restaurant have to have a "Family Meal" package? (Subquestion: why do families who eat these "Family Meals" eat them in front of the TV or in the car?) Why does everything in this world need to be done FASTER?

It makes me tired.

And... um... hungry.

In related news, my oven is broken. Guess that means no Banquet Homestyle Bake for me tonight.

Parental advisory: explicit content.

There is much ado in the 'net bantering world about Dave Matthews Band snubbing iTunes. My favorite is "Nobody tells ME what to do with MY FUCKING MONEY!! NO ONE!! FUCK THAT!"

Haha.

I don't have an opinion, as I probably won't buy the album regardless of where it's sold. I do have a suggestion for DMB though - if it is indeed the money you're concerned about, and not the "artistic integrity of the album," stop giving free concerts. The Stones and U2 can charge up to $400 for their concert tickets, and so can you. You'll still make some money and all those charities will benefit a hundred times over.

Of course, you'll have to project the sound via loudspeaker to the parking lot where all the financially challenged hippies are hanging out...

Wise guy, eh?

My brother is coming to visit sometime this summer, so yesterday I asked him to check into flights and let me know what he comes up with. He doesn't travel much. Here is the exchange that followed:

"what is the process of check into flights?"

"www.united.com, www.southwest.com, www.jetblue.com, www.expedia.com, www.orbitz.com or call a AAA travel agent (if you still have AAA) and see what kind of price they can get you."

"...but I'm not an alcoholic."

I lived with this comedian for roughly 22 years... Explains a lot, doesn't it?

Skills to pay the bills.

I'm a bit stuck on my next move right now, so at the suggestion of someone who knows a little sumthin' about this kind of stuff (and out of curiosity - I love this sort of crap), I took the Campbell Interest and Skill Survey. I'm still digesting the 21 pages of results, but my immediate reaction is that my childhood aspirations may have been right on... Back in the day, I'd pretend I was a teacher, or a doctor, or a veternarian. According to this test, those are all things I should highly consider pursuing.

Not that any one test says anything, of course - it's just interesting that I pretended to be these things when I was young and this is what came up tonight, and also interesting that I've lately been pondering going back to school to become a vet.* ("Interesting" along the lines of how my psychic reading of my past lives was "interesting.") Coincidence? You be the judge.

And shockingly, according to this test, I should avoid careers in sales and financial services. Well, golly gosh darn it all to heck!!

________________
* Pondering. Only pondering. I mean, biology classes - YEESH.

Oldies but goodies.

At the suggestion/loan of a friend I recently watched two old movies. I'm usually not a fan of old movies - the ones I've seen have tended to be slow and dry and overly dramatic and full of bad acting and generally snoozeworthy. Not to criticize, of course.

I did enjoy A Star Is Born (the very first original old school one) though. There was just enough cynicism and underlying depression to really engage me, and the acting was terrific... And hey, any Hitchcock movie is okay in my book. If Fredric March's "Star..." performance was any indication, I am betting I will enjoy the third loan as well...

Not an oldie and also not a goodie - The Day after Tomorrow. Never again will I utter, "Jake Gyllenhaal, how bad could it be?" I do have a few questions though... Has our government seen this movie*? Who still thinks that Dennis Quaid can act? And why couldn't the wolves prevail, just ONCE?? Poor wolves.

________________
* And I mean, in the "detriment to the environment" sense, not in the "let's invade Mexico!" sense. Lord knows they don't need any more bright ideas in that department.

Closed captioning provided by the... impaired.

At the gym tonight, the yoga class was still going strong, so those of us on the treadmills respectfully turned down the volume on the TVs and set the closed captioning to "on." In the span of 40 minutes, I read some very interesting news stories about Al Meet A* and Peed Mont, montana lions and the fact that the military's "don't ask don't tell" policy is offensive to gaze.

Hell. If all else fails, I could get a job as a typist for the closed captioning folks.

________________
* People. It's RUGBY. I don't care if it's male or female rugby, it's RUGBY. What do you expect?

You only get what you give, and how to get free stuff.

As previously noted, the moment I turned 30 my skin turned into that of a desert rat. Since January I've been trying to resolve the issue with store-bought lotions and store-bought "moisturizing" makeup, all to no avail. Finally, after hearing my friend mention several times that she'd spent the weekend buying quality makeup she didn't need at Nordstroms as part of a comfort activity, I decided to check out the scene. (Didn't hurt that I had a lot of money in gift certificates that I was looking to burn.)

So on the last day of my vacation I ventured into the makeup section of the multi-tiered Nordstroms in the city. At first it was overwhelming - the colors! the lights! the makeup girls! the scents! the price tags! - and I almost turned back, but a surge of bravery overcame me and I plodded on. I kept my iPod earplugs plugged to appear as though I was merely browsing, which seemed to kind of work on the sales girls upstairs a few minutes before. But then SHE appeared. After hearing that I was looking for moisturizing foundation, she happily obliged... and then some. And for some strange reason, I succumbed.

Fifteen minutes later, I was decked out in a ratty t-shirt, ratty jeans, ratty Chuck Taylors, and plum eye shadow, eggplant mascara, pink lip gloss and lipliner, "bronzer" (I still don't really know what that is), blush and - yep - moisturizing foundation. It took a lot of effort not to burst out laughing when I saw myself in the mirror.* The foundation felt like just what the doctor ordered, though, not surprising at A LOT OF MONEY A JAR (you only get what you give), so I asked for a bottle and subtly mentioned that I don't normally wear all that other goop. Information which she took rather well. I imagine they're used to it. If I ever get married, hell, I'm going there before the ceremony. Free makeover!

Anyway, of course they were out of the "tone" of foundation I needed (and how to get free stuff) so she gave me 2 little vials of free foundation and took my phone number. A week later, I returned to the store where a flamboyantly gay man called me "little lady" and finally handed over my purchase. And now I still have most of the 2 vials plus what appears to be a six-month supply of really, really good shit. Um, makeup, that is. Lest the DEA gets confused.

And the moral of this long girlie story is... I dunno. Pay a lot of money and your skin will no longer look like that of a desert rat? Frankly, I'm still hung up on the "little lady" reference.

________________
* A few hours later I went for a run, and forgot that I had all that goop on my face, and wiped my face with my sleeve... which is now purple for life.

File under: recently viewed

In no particular order...

Fahrenheit 451: This probably doesn't even count because I watched about 15 minutes of it, fell asleep and returned it the next day. There must be something about those older movies based on old books I absolutely love, that I can't stand. It seems that a new version has also been announced. Woohoo.

Kill Bill, Vol. 2: I get it now. I really get it now. I completely appreciate them both so much more now. It helped to watch the "making of" extra which almost convinced me that Quentin didn't just split them up into two volumes to make twice as much money, that there was method to his madness. Almost.

An Ideal Husband: Snorefest 2005, circa 1999. So much for Netflix recommendations.

And finally, something I've been pondering off and on since I saw it, and have been meaning to write about but haven't quite known what to say... Crash. I still don't know what to say. I guess I liken it, in a sense, to a morph of Magnolia set in L.A. I guess I can see how some people might think it's over the top, exaggerated, overrated. And I guess if you don't feel uncomfortable after having watched it, or if it doesn't at least get you thinking, then I probably don't understand you. And that's okay... it's just an observation.

And in case YOU don't read the Dish...

"Director Oliver Stone has cut the gay references from his "Alexander" movie for the DVD version of the 2004 flop.

Stone claimed his epic was unpopular with American audiences because of the subtle homosexual content.

He said, "They didn't even read the reviews in the South because the media was using the words: 'Alex is Gay.' As a result you can bet that they thought, 'We're not going to see a film about a military leader that has got something wrong with him.'"

In the DVD version, the relationship between Colin Farrell's Alexander the Great character and Hephaistion -- played by Jared Leto -- will be portrayed as simply a friendship.

However, fans of Rosario Dawson will be pleased to know more angles of her character Roxanne's naked exposure will be included in the DVD."

I'll leave you to your own comments about the overall idiocy of Oliver Stone's mentality.* I will add my two cents to the last paragraph though: but of course.

________________
* Okay, no I won't (but add your own!): Um, yeah, it's not that the movie SUCKED, it's because of the gay references. RIIIIIGHT. And yes, heaven forbid we watch ANYTHING having to do with military leaders having something wrong with them. Because we aren't inundated with that EVERY SINGLE DAY OF OUR LIVES right now.

Proud as a peacock.

Tonight my brain needed a short nap before settling down to do some hard unpaid job work, so I turned on the TV and watched 30 minutes of Joey, the show that USA Today hails "hands down the best sitcom of the new season" (according to the web site - I don't make a habit of reading USA Today*).

In that 30 minutes I saw at least 4 plot lines from various Friends episodes. And tonight's episode was 60 minutes long. You do the math.

I can't believe that chick from the Sopranos opted for this career move.

________________
* Now, the Daily Dish, on the other hand... OH NO!! "Comedian Dave Chappelle has been forced to put his top-rated Comedy Central show on hold after checking into a South African psychiatric hospital.

Entertainment Weekly reports the cult funnyman checked into the mental health facility on April 28.

The upcoming third season premiere of "Chappelle's Show" has been postponed indefinitely. The comic recently signed a $50 million deal with Comedy Central for two more seasons of his show."

On manner mode.

Thursday night I accidentally set my phone to "manner mode" (vibrate only). Punchline #1: I've been trying to figure out how to set the phone to vibrate only for MONTHS now,* and doing it without realizing it was just utterly annoying. Punchline #2: I couldn't figure out how to turn the "manner mode" OFF. This turned out to be a great thing in the end - my phone hasn't rung in DAYS!!

Today I was driving around and it occured to me that it would be great to have a "people remote control" - not only for the "mute" button potential, but also for "manner mode." Cross the street right in front of me even though my light is green? Manner mode! Don't want to hold the door for me when both my hands are completely full? Manner mode! Taste an olive from the olive bar using your hands instead of the toothpick? Manner mode!

Sigh. I am really starting to think I am headed straight for hermitville.

________________
* Yeah, I have the user's manual. Your point is ... ??? Haha. I did finally pull it out and now I know the magic trick.

SLOW DOWN.

I have a very fond memory of me and my oldest friend sitting in our high school library while something French-related was going on. Rather than paying attention we kept repeating the following dialogue from the episode of Taxi where Jim is taking his driving test:

Jim: "Pssst. What does the yellow light mean?"
Bobby: "Slow down."
Jim: "Whaaat doooess the yelllllow liiiiight mean?"
Bobby: "SLOW DOWN."
Jim: "WHHHHHAAAAAAAAATTTTTT DOOOOOOOOOEEEEEEEEESSSSSSSSS THE YELLLLLLOOOOOOOOWWWW LIIIIIIIIIIGH MEEEEEEEANNNN?"

(Ridiculous giggling fits ensued. It's a miracle we didn't get kicked out, or suspended, or something equally offensive.)

Why that's relevant: I am currently watching VH1's "I Love the 70s: 1979" and they just showed that particular scene. All the celebrity commentators said that's their most memorable scene from Taxi. Validation. :)

Seriously though, sometimes I'm really amazed at the things I remember. I can remember that we were in the library for something French-related, but after five years of French schooling I can't remember more than five words of the French language itself. (One of the five that I can remember is "pamplemousse" - which means grapefruit - which is my least favorite citris fruit. Go figure.)

Aww! And now they're talking about the Muppet Movie, my favorite movie EVER (or, sometimes tied with Hair, also made in 1979 but surprisingly without a mention on the show).

... I love the 70's.

Mayhem on eBay.

This is really getting out of control ... But it's sooooooo funny. Almost as good as the one that went around a while ago, which I can't recall at the moment, something about someone selling their university president on eBay?

They already took her match.com profile down. Rats. Suffice to say, it contained the phrase, "more baggage than a cruise ship."

Haha. But seriously, what a nice perspective when you start to think that YOU'VE got issues.

I've got the fever...

... and the only cure is ... MORE BASEBALL!

Haha. Just kidding. Actually, the only cure is MORE JIMMY FALLON! who was rather adorable in Fever Pitch. Yes sports fans, it's still in theaters ... for about 10 more minutes. See it while you can.

In other movie news, I have tried to make it through Catch 22 a few times this week. I dunno, I totally loved the book and I guess I just don't think the movie is doing it justice. Besides, I can't really get past Jon Voight's character in Midnight Cowboy to enjoy him in this flick. (And have you noticed how much Angelina looks like him in his much younger days? It's freaky.) I'll keep trying though ... what else am I going to do - after all, I'm on vacation, and it's raining! And I'm not bitter about that! Because I'm not at work!! WOOHOO!!

Office Space on crack, and then some sap.

I watched Employee of the Month. I'd never heard of it before walking into the video store tonight. I really liked this movie. It starred Matt Dillon and Steve Zahn (both of whom I will watch in, well, basically anything), plus Christina Applegate (who should've gotten a frigging Oscar for her performance... okay maybe that's exaggerated but damn, she was convincing), and the ending is all twisty-turny. What's not to love?

And then, because I am on vacation and refuse to do anything remotely intellectual, I watched the WB. I have a friend who is fascinated by the horrifically bad shows on the WB (e.g. Seventh Heaven and Everwood). I get the Seventh Heaven revulsion (I mean really dear God really what family really lives like that really?!?!) but I have to say, tonight I was rooting for Amy on Everwood. And now I am officially roped in for three more weeks till the season finale.

Damn you, WB. Damn you.

More on shopping (sorry).

I got a late start today (I'm on vacation!! so it doesn't matter!!) so instead of heading into the city as planned to try to use my Nordstroms gift certificates, I went to Walnut Creek.

(If you know me, you might know that I'm not too fond of shopping, especially given my "low people tolerance" factor. Except for shoes. I loooooooove shoe shopping. This is odd, because I have far fewer pairs of shoes than the normal woman. I think I just like the fact that, unlike with clothes, the size is pretty much guaranteed to fit, and so the experience overall is much more gratifying.)

Digressions: I have often wondered this when I work from home and run errands during lunchtime, and today I really wondered it. Why are all these people milling about in a shopping center on a Monday? Do they not work? How can I get that deal? Are they rich and therefore don't have to work? (This was definitely the case with some of the gussied-up women. Me, I was in overalls and flip flops... Clearly not the case for me.) Are they retired? Are they SAHMs in need of adult interaction? Are they taking a day off, like me?

I also wonder, when I go to Walnut Creek to shop, why people get dressed up to go shopping. A phenomenon I really don't get. It just seems like an utter waste of time, energy and makeup. End of digressions.

I've found that overalls and flip flops tend to keep the psycho salespeople away from you when you're browsing at Nordstroms. Clearly you are not worthy of their attention... and that's the way you like it. Today was an exception. I was browsing the shoes (see above) and I noticed a salesperson stalking me. I mean, really stalking me. She was hovering about ten feet away, and anytime I'd pick up a shoe (or look remotely interested in a shoe) she would start to head over. Then I'd put the shoe down or move on to the next display, and she'd divert her path slightly and hover some more. After five minutes I started to just mess with her. I couldn't help myself. "Oooh, this hot pink sequened stiletto looks soooooo me! Let me pick it up and examine it closely... Hmm, naaah maybe not. How about this leopard skin clog? Hey, it's my size, let me try it on real quick. Hmm, naaah. Perhaps this strappy little number I wouldn't be caught dead in?"

What can I say, it was fun. And it worked - she got the message and left me alone to browse.

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Note to self - mass quantities of vacation days : spending WAY TOO MUCH money :: Gap mucky mucks : spending WAY TOO MUCH money on the Governator's campaigns

How now, brown sweater.

I have searched and searched and SEARCHED for a brown sweater I can wear with a nice (very cheap) skirt I got a while back. Apparently spring is not the season for brown. Now, that's just shocking.

Today at the Gap I found the perfect brown summer sweater that will go very nicely with my skirt. I was so excited about my purchase... until I got in the car. The first radio commerical I heard was about how terrible it was to shop at the Gap because (among other reasons) all the mucky mucks there financially support the Governator, who, as we all know, is a horrible, horrible person and politician.

Hmm. Sorry, California teachers, children, nurses, environmentalists and everyone else with an ounce of humanity in their sad little souls. I am NOT returning that sweater. Goddammit.

Attention jackasses who buy all the concert tickets just to resell them for a lot of money on Craig's List....

You SUCK. Oh, and also, you're screwed. Hopefully, anyway.

That is all.

Runaway bride.

AKA, one of the many reasons why I haven't read/watched the news in about four weeks.

This will be a really inappropriate post if the story ends badly, but I am so tired of hearing about women faking their own disappearances because they don't want to follow through with the wedding.

Then again, I'm also really tired of hearing about homocidal husbands who kill their wives. Let's hope it doesn't go that route.

Don't panic.

I happened to remember that Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy was opening today, so I planned my day around a matinee viewing. Hooray for vacations!!

I didn't read any reviews so as not to have expectations. It turned out to be exactly what one would expect a Douglas Adams book(s)-turned-movie to be - which was a pleasant surprise... Plus the added bonuses (boni?) of staring at Martin Freeman for 90 minutes and appearances by Sam Rockwell, John Malkovich and Alan Rickman (who was a hilarious Marvin).

I don't recall the presidential jabs from the books, but then again I read them over 10 years ago. If anyone can confirm/refute that they were added into the movie, that would be appreciated.

How not to start your vacation.

Watch Closer, followed immediately by Midnight Cowboy. Holy crap, what depressing movies. What really, really, really good, but really, really, really depressing, movies.

I also recently saw Spanglish, which I enjoyed a lot. And Chris Rock's Bring the Pain. Thank God for those.

Vacation, day #1.

I took seven business days off due to a slight break in the workload, and also the fact that I'm not too fond of my job right now. Judging from how today was spent, I'm thinking I'm going to be spending a LOT of money in the next week or so.

One place I spent money today was Costco, the magical warehouse of mass quantities of crap. It was my first visit as a "real member" and I only wanted to case the joint on a day other than Saturday to see what I should hold off on buying at Longs and Target. Naturally I didn't call to see what time they opened, and I arrived at 9:30 am to find that they didn't open until 10 am. So I went down the street and got Mom some peanut brittle from See's, and picked up a few more houseplants at Home Depot since Luna doesn't seem to be eating the first one I brought home. At 10:05 am I headed back to Costco.

Had I read the sign correctly, I would've seen that my lousy "gold membership" didn't allow me into the store until 11 am. SIGH. I stomped back to my car and headed to Nordstrom Rack to look for shoes. At 11:15 am I arrived back at Costco for the third time, and was finally permitted entry.

While browsing, I found this, this and this. Dear. God. Why.

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You can also buy caskets through Costco online. Yeesh.

And while we're on the subject...

I've been vaguely trying the dating thing (again). I've (again) come to the conclusion that it's a complete and utter waste of time, that (again) I'm not going to meet anyone reasonable through any online means, that (again) the bar scene is SOOOOOO not for me, and that (again) I'm much happier going home and doing whatever the hell I want to do without having to consult with anyone.

Crazy-Aunt-Jenny-land, here I come.

Attention, married men!!

Please wear your damn wedding rings. That is all. Thank you.

Democracy in action.

A petition to keep Arrested Development around for another season... The show that brings us such wonderful lines as, "I'm tired of trying to find happiness through lies and self-medicating. If you need me, I'll be at the bar. "

And also - a petition to get "them" to release The Critic on DVD... That show made me laugh.

Hanging ten.

I went to a couch-surfing party today (my favorite kind of surfing), which featured a replay of the Half Moon Bay Mavericks surf competition and other incredible video of surfers. At one point I commented that I'd like to marry a surfer.

Despite interviews with the been-stoned-one-too-many-days-of-their-lives competitors, and a hilarious interview with a bleached blond "scientologist of surfing" (my own terminology - but it fits), I stand by my affirmation. How cool it would be, to be that engaged with someone who completely respects one of the vital elements and who lives his life to be a part of - and suffer through - and conquer - something so out of his own control.

That was way too many "be"s. Sorry. But really, it's much more interesting to me than being that engaged with a fire-eater, or a tornado-chaser, or a geologist.

Then again, it would probably be a lot like dating a musician, and lord knows that SUCKS. Hmm... Maybe I'll just learn to surf instead.

"Feel the city breakin’ and everybody shakin’..."

I've been pretty good about exercising lately - at least 2 days of weights and at least 3 days of walking or walking-running a week. In the gym I can set intervals on the treadmill, so I walk for 2 mins and run for 3 or 4 mins (depending on how I feel that day), and rotate for 40-45 minutes. When I go around the lake, I use my iPod "workout" playlist to estimate the intervals - run for a song, walk for a song.

(There is a reason for this lengthy intro.)

Today at the lake I was finishing up my last running interval and just as the song ended and I started walking, the Bee Gee's "Stayin' Alive" began...

It took every ounce of remaining strength not to start strutting and doing the disco arm as I walked the final hundred feet to my car. EVERY OUNCE.

New respect for Christian...

... Christian Slater, that is. I had no idea that River Phoenix was slated for his role in Interview With a Vampire and that Christian took it over when River died. I also had no idea that he donated his salary for the movie to River's favorite charity.

(It's on the web, so it must be true!)

Marketing - not his strong suit.

I was recently approached by a "petition signature gatherer" or whatever their official title is. He had five petitions. When I asked him what the issues were about, he fumbled his way through three of them, and instead of explaining the other two, he said "This is my first day, I don't really know what these are all about."

Puzzled, I inquired who his employer was, and he mumbled something about "some guy in Berkeley."

At which point I nodded, wished him luck, and went on my way. Yeah. Good luck with that.

Must. Find. This.

Driving to the vet I saw a bumper sticker that said, "If you can read this, you're not the President."

Haha.

Unrelated, it seems that cats get seasonal allergies too, which explains Luna's recent itchy issues. Like mine, her allergies developed later in life. It's getting weird how much we are acting like each other these days.

"I know it's pretty damn weird to eat people."

Recently seen...

Sin City: Having never read the graphic art novels (or whatever they're called) I wasn't sure what to expect. I loved this movie. Loved it. LOVED IT. It was gory and glorified and pretentious and creepy and... did I mention gory? (See subject of post.) It literally was a comic book made into a movie. Genius, sheer genius.

Butterfly Effect: Okay. I rented this (online of course!) because I was curious. I had no expectations whatsoever. Turns out, it really wasn't half bad. I didn't think his acting was any worse than normal, and the story kept me interested until the very end (which sucked, natch - but this is true with me and most movies). What a pleasant surprise to expect to hate something and end up liking it.

Shark Tale, on the other hand: BLEAH. At least I balanced my checkbook and did all my ironing during that one. I did chuckle at the "You had me at hello!" reference. But that was about it...

The monkey lane!!

The guy behind me in the grocery store tonight kept telling his 3(ish) year old son that he was a monkey (presumably because he kept squirming around in the cart), and that they might have to move from the "express" lane to the "monkey" lane.

"We're going to have to ask the manager where the monkey lane is! Time to go to the monkey lane! Which lane is the monkey lane! We'll have to find the monkey lane! The monkey needs his monkey lane!" Repeat ad nauseum.

(I am not making any of that up.)

Judging from the look he gave me when he handed me the receipt, I think the cashier shared my "shut the hell up already about the monkey lane" sentiment...

Disturbing headline du jour.

Beer Bottles Key in Search for Girl.

The story is pretty disturbing too, of course.

I'll be returning my salt lick

Lately (and I mean, in the past week or so) I've noticed that I am really sensitive to salt. I just gave blood and my bp was in the normal range... So I'm sure this is another fun by-product of getting older rather than some serious illness I need to start paying attention to and/or taking meds for. (Right?? I mean, shit like this is a bit too scary. Damn the Internet. Damn it.)

But because the sensitivity has been so prominent, it's really been making me think about the kind of food I eat. For a vegetarian I don't eat enough fruits and vegetables. And even though I try not to, I eat a lot of processed food (veggie burgers and other fake meat being the main culprits) and also WAY TOO MUCH cheese. All of which has, you guessed it, a lot of salt. So tonight for dinner I made baked tofu (plain) with broccoli and mushrooms, and threw a little pepper onto it. Salt content = O mg... Fat = 0 g. Taste = the big goose egg as well.

Sigh. This must be how my parents feel after every meal.

Somewhat related but not really, I've also been eating less bread lately, just because I have been, not because I'm on some psycho-pseudo-Atkins diet or anything. I'm more sensitive to that now too. Today I had a bagel and my digestive system essentially said, "NUH-UH!!!" (Wait, was that too much information?)

In other news, I have a date on Saturday. My entire being is essentially saying, "NUH-UH!!!!"...

I only owe you five dollars...

I stand corrected. My first phone call since getting a "real" phone line was from my smart-ass friend, who was responding to the mass email I sent out today saying "sorry for all the times my crappy cell phone cut us off mid-conversation, here's my new number that actually works." The message I got from my smart-ass friend was along the lines of "hel..o? are...oo there? ...can't...ar you..." along with some SOFAKEEVENPEEWEEHERMANWOULDBEASHAMED static noise between every syllable.

(I must admit, that was pretty clever. Made me laugh, anyway.)

However, the second call I got was from a telemarketer... And so it begins.

Even more sour grapes.

I finally bit the bullet and re-signed up for a land line because my cell phone gets ZERO reception in my apartment. ("Can you hear me now?" "Um, no.") Turns out, the money I was saving on not having a land line was simply not worth the frustration and annoyance I caused people and coworkers who called me and inevitably got cut off mid-sentence several times during any given conversation.

Who knew.

After numerous tries to do this on SBC's web site (which, no matter how far in the process I got, kept punting me back to the first screen) I called and spoke with someone. As of tomorrow I shall have phone stability again. Which means I need to buy a phone tonight. A cool phone. With a good speakerphone... And a mute button. Wow, phones have come a long way since I last bought one - this one has a radio and an alarm. Why, it's perfect for telecommuting! Haha.

Anyway, the "even more sour grapes" come in here: in order for your name, address and number not to be listed anywhere, you actually have to pay a certain amount each month. Granted, it's only $0.28/month, so I won't be breaking the bank or anything, but really now. It's the principal of the matter.

Ten bucks says my first call will STILL be a telemarketer...

Sour grapes.

So my one friend scored two tickets to the exclusive Springsteen show at the Paramount next month, whereas I couldn't even get one... And my other friend actually met Bono yesterday.

Yeah, I'm bitter. What of it?!

"Do your very best not to scream."

That's how bad the movies I've seen recently have been. In no particular order...

Bridget Jones: The Edge of Reason: I was actually looking forward to this after a night out with some single girlfriends where we discussed relationship shit ad nauseum, especially since I really enjoyed the first one. Suffice it to say, the disc kept stopping mid-sentence and after a few stops I shut it off, reported the problem to Netflix and asked that they not send me a replacement copy.

In the Company of Men: See Sideways review, only with a better (read=less happy) ending. This one was actually scream-worthy for its content, but really well acted.

The Village (from which I drew the subject of this post, ironically): Just when you thought it couldn't get any more stupid, it does. Why oh why did I not heed all the warnings and leave it alone? Must not let the Joaquin/Adrian factors drive which movies I rent. Must... not...

And finally, one that I should probably give another go... Donnie Brasco: I'm sure this was a swell movie, but I was incredibly distracted by three things throughout that prevented me from enjoying it: that I need to round up some old Fugazi, that Anne Heche is a crazy person (not in the movie, just in general), and that the "forgetaboutit" dialogue was way too similar to that in the crappy Hugh Grant movie.

Approximately 8 hours of my life that I will not get back. Oh well, at least I can warn others...

The ups and downs of spring fever.

If you read this or know me at all, you know that I'm not a big fan of people in general. This is why I avoid jobs in customer service, why I don't see movies in movie theaters unless absolutely warranted, and why I hate sitting in airports.

Yesterday I did a lot of shopping and various errand-running, and every single person I encountered was incredibly pleasant, cheerful and helpful. I mean a lot of shopping, and I mean every single person. From the drivers, to the sales people, to the cashiers, to the security guards. I arrived at home in a really good mood and figured everyone must have spring fever.

Today the fever broke, and every single driver on the road pissed me off. I mean every single driver. I saw eight people littering around the lake (even while concerned citizens were picking up litter in some kind of organized fashion). And despite the nice signs saying "if you overfill the bins they won't take the recycling so please don't overfill the bins" placed over the recycling bins in my stairwell, some genius shoved a bunch of big cardboard boxes in the bin and the lid won't close.

Yep, it's spring... And I hate people.

Here's to the nut room!

Thank you, Daily Dish, for pointing out someone who's providing a little comic relief (and money well spent!!):

Director Tim Burton has spent six months training 200 squirrels for a scene in his latest movie, "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory."

The original 1971 movie didn't include any animals, but the eccentric filmmaker was so desperate to create the "nut room" from Roald Dahl's original novel, he spent millions of dollars teaching the bushy-tailed rodents how to crack nuts and load them onto a conveyor belt.

The painstaking scene took another 10 weeks to shoot at London's Pinewood Studios.

A source says, "We used actual rodents. From birth, we sent them to training school for six months.

"Tim was determined to bring the nut room to life. Using squirrels proved too difficult in the first film but he spent millions of dollars getting it right."

Five things bugging me today.

None get qualifying "bugging me more than they should" comments either. This shit bugs me. In no particular order...

1. That kids have to pimp their wares in front of local businesses because the stupid government is too stupid to properly fund after-school programs. I hate saying no... but then again, I also hate handing over $2 to a 13 year old and getting a crappy candy bar back. Is this really for your baseball team, kid?

2. That pedestrians crossing in front of my apartment garage gate glare at me with PURE HATRED when my car and I crawl at turtle pace through the gate and don't realize they're there, so they have to step out of the way. Um, hello, you can HEAR the gate opening, therefore you KNOW that a car is most likely coming out, so perhaps you should STOP AND LOOK instead of continuing on your way and then shooting me menacing looks for not being able to SEE THROUGH CONCRETE. Sheesh.

3. That some people are in SUCH A HURRY that they cannot wait for me to cross the street before proceeding through the stop sign. Noooooo, they have to inch their way toward me until they are feet from me and then STOMP on the gas as soon as I've cleared their path. Gosh, I'm SO sorry I caused you to be 4 seconds later than you would've been.

4. That celebrity gossip is so freaking violent. Everybody's either slamming/attacking/fighting with/blasting each other, or being slammed/attacked/fought with/blasted. Can't we all just get along?? I know being a celebrity is, like, SO hard and all, but come on.

5. There is just not enough time in the day. In the week. In the life.

Now fear this!

I was a little surprised to learn that the most wished for item under Amazon's Health and Beauty section is currently Philips HeartStart Home Automated External Defibrillator. The description from the web site:

The Philips HeartStart Home Defibrillator. It's the latest in essential safety equipment. Fire extinguishers. Seat belts. Airbags. Home security systems. All essential safety equipment to protect yourself and your loved ones. You know they are there, silently standing by, just in case. They give you peace of mind so that you can focus on life's good things.*

Apparently virtually anyone can use it, it talks you through the steps to jump start someone's heart, but you can't use it on yourself. Darn.

Personally, I'd much rather have this any old day. No other present company needed for this baby. (No, it's not one of those. Get out of the gutter, you.)

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* I'm scared of what Amazon will start recommending now that I've looked at the details of the defibrillator...

THIS is the best we can come up with????

JACKSON CROWNED 'MOST FOOLISH AMERICAN' FOR THIRD TIME RUNNING

Troubled superstar Michael Jackson has been voted America's "Most Foolish Person" for the third year in a row, beating a murderer and President George W. Bush to the title. The annual April Fool's Day poll showed that the "Thriller" star was the most popular choice for the top spot, with convicted killer Scott Peterson, sentenced to death this month for murdering his heavily pregnant wife Laci, at second place. The list also featured his sister Janet Jackson at sixth place, in honor of her breast-flashing "wardrobe malfunction" gaffe, hotel heiress Paris Hilton came in at fourth place and disgraced lifestyle guru Martha Stewart at third. Compiler of the poll Jeff Barge says, "It's getting hard to envision an America in which Michael Jackson isn't the most foolish individual. Short of a lesbian wedding ceremony for Paris Hilton, it's hard to imagine who could possibly push him out of the number 1 spot."

THESE are the most foolish people we can think of??? Peterson was "FOOLISH"?? Hilton is "FOOLISH"?? Come ON, America. For the love of all that is holy, come ON.

Like a kid at Christmas!

I'm getting new furniture delivered today... Well, "furniture" - I'm still too chicken to buy grown-up furniture so I got the kind you have to put together. So technically I'm getting big slabs of wood delivered today... Well, "wood" - it is from Ikea after all. But the promised me it didn't come from the rainforest... Well, "promised" - I am pretty sure the kid I asked didn't know and couldn't have cared less. (But I asked, that counts for something, right? Right??)

I've not been this excited about something in a long time. Every time I hear a large vehicle coming up the hill I run to the window to see if it's THE truck. I guess the bigger question is, will I really be able to work once the delivery arrives? Will reviewing nine MILLION PAGES of documentation be compelling enough to keep me from ripping into the boxes and getting started on assembly?

I highly doubt it.