Friday, February 27, 2004

just a double dose of Daily Dirt helps the medicine go down...

Daily Dirt

Speak English! - Friday, February 27, 2004

1. What's the longest English word you knew?


2. What's the most difficult English word you can never pronounce?

Particularly. Seriously, I have no idea why I cannot pronounce this word. To bypass the fumbling and stumbling over the word, I resort to using this pronunciation: Par-TIC-u-LAR-i-ly. I use it mostly to confuse/annoy the HB, for whom English was not his first language.

3. Have you ever failed English?

Nu uh.

4. Should everyone know English?


5. What's the next best language other than English?


"Anyone can speak Troll," said Fred dismissively. "All you have to do is grunt and point."
- J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire

Oops I did it again… - Thursday, February 26, 2004
Complete the sentences

1. In the toilet: "Oops…"

"... I dropped my book in the toilet."

Back when I was in junior high a friend of mine borrowed one of my Hardy Boy books. (Frank Hardy! ::swoon::) He had the book with him while he was in the potty room, and somehow it landed in the toilet. Oops. He gave me three dollars to pay for the loss of the book and was soooooooooo embarrassed while he tried to explain things without really 'explaining things'.

2. In the cafeteria : "Oops…"

" bag of Fritos exploded."

Grade: second grade (maybe first)
Time: lunch
Setting: school cafeteria
Occupancy: FULL

I had one of those lunch box sized mini bag of Fritos in my lunch box. I tried several times to open the bag, but it was being extremely tricky. So I took a deep breath, gripped both sides of the bag with my Super Strength Grip, and pulled them apart with all my Super Strength Might. The two sides burst apart and every single Frito flew out of the bag and landed on the table. Or on top of my friends' lunches. Oops. I remember being very embarrassed.

3. In the supermarket: "Oops…"

"... there are four bags of Chips Ahoy! cookies in my shopping cart!"

The supermarket had a Buy One Get One Free sale last weekend. The HB felt that this was a cause for celebration and threw four bags of Chips Ahoy! cookies in our cart. "Four???" I said. "Cookies!" he replied. I couldn't argue with such brilliant logic so we headed for the milk aisle.

4. In the elevator: "Oops…"

"... I forgot my room key."

I've done that before. Luckily there was someone still in the room for me to get back in.

5. In your bedroom: "Oops…"

"... I forgot the bed was there."

My feet seem to be irresistibly drawn to hard, unmovable objects. They like to run into these hard, unmovable objects as fast as they can, which causes me pain and makes me limp for several days. Stupid feet.

Thursday, February 26, 2004

Productivity Update

I forgot to take my writing stuff with me to lunch so no writing has been done.

And when I got back to my desk I couldn't write, because my screen saver needed to be changed. It is now a scrolling marquee that reads: Hi. I'm not at my desk right now so please leave your name and a brief message after the beep and I will get back to you as soon as I can.       *BEEEEEEP*

Yeah. I know. Sometimes I'm so cool I amaze even myself.

And now I'm eating mozzarella string cheese. When I opened it I noticed the bottom of the string was runny. As in slimey. I don't know if it started to melt in my car (it wasn't that hot) or if it just didn't like resting on top of the bottle of ice water in my lunch box. I'm pretty sure it was the ice that made it runny and not food-spoiling temperatures. But I'm not sure.

I'm eating the string cheese anyway (sans the runny bit at the end.) What can I say? I'm just a rebel like that. So if you don't see another blog post from me for a while that probably means I died from Runny Cheese Poisoning.

I want my tombstone to read:

Here lies The Loon.
Daughter. Sister. Friend.
Bomb-Ass Girlfriend.
Brave runny cheese eater.

I don't think I'd make a good clown. I can't even think up a realy cool clown name for myself.

I mentioned in the last post that I was stressing over a rush "I need all this information in the next ten minutes!" job for Mr. BigBossMan. I rushed him the information, came back to my office, and de-stressed myself by flinging, and loosing, the cap to my pen.

Anywho, I didn't fully de-stress in all areas because I'm still a weeeee bit stressed over this assignment I have to write for my writing class. So far I've been slacking. Well, that's not really true. I've done a lot of thinking about it. And I've written down a bunch of scribbles and half ideas and stuff. And last night I was busy doing a lot of important brainstorming. While playing computer games. One game in particular, which, unfortunately, I've become addicted to.

But you see, I had to play. The computer game playing was an important part of the writing process. At least it is for me until I get in a set writing groove. For now it's working because the playing freed up my brain to think and imagine and see my story setting clearly. That's a lot better than staring at a blank screen and waiting for something to pop out of thin air. A stared down plot plant never blooms.

Um. Yeah. Whatever the hell that means.

So while playing the computer game I got a great idea. I could see the story practically written in my head! I could see the story start to bloom and grow beyond the assignment! Score! It was way past my bedtime when it all came together so I wrote down the general idea of it all really quickly then headed for bed.

This morning, as I sat in front of the computer here at work and got ready to ignore some work I had to do, all pumped up and ready to write my assignment, the beginning of what I might turn into a fabu story. Then I reread the directions of the writing exercise.

My idea didn't fit the exercise requirements. D'oh! My brainstorming last night had veered in the wrong direction. At least for now it did. I'll probably work on the idea later, because I'm curious to see if I can write an actual story from it. But for now I have to work on this assignment of mine.

While I've been working I've come up with another way to go about things (Yay!) so I think I'll go work on it now. During my lunch break. Because I'm huuuuungry. Hungry as a person who only ate Kit Kats and Reece's Peanut Butter Cups for dinner last night. Hey, now, that was an integral step in the Brainstorming/Computer Game Playing step of the writing process!

::sigh:: I will finish it tonight. No matter what. Because I'll need a day or two to reread it and go 'Eck! That's crap. Edit!'

Okay. No more blog writing procrastination for me. I'm off to go eat my yummy sammich and write about a small town mechanic named Russell who just inherited a chunk of money from his black sheep of an uncle, Chuck Chuckie the Not-So-Lucky Circus Clown.

Blah blah blahblahblah blah

Blah blah blahblah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah. Blah blah blahblah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah. Blah blah! Blah blahblah blah blah blah blahblahblah blah blah blah. Blah blah blah blah blah blahblah blahblah blah.

Blah blah? Blah! B.O.L.!*

*Blah Out Loud

If you understand that, great. Blah blah! If not, let me translate it for you. Here's the general gist of it:

Back in the day when I had a couple of hamsters I signed up for some deal at Petco. They gave me a cool little tag deelybobthingamajig that I could put on my keychain ring. The front side of the tag had the cute little Petco symbol. The back side had a barcode. Whenever I came in to buy something the cashier would swipe my tag deelybobthingamajig's barcode and I would save money! Woo!

I used it once. Maybe twice. Then my hamsters started dying off and heading up to that big spinning wheel in the sky. That was years ago, but I never got around to taking the deelybobthingamajig off my keychain until a few days ago. 'Cause I'm cool like that. I took it off at work, for reasons that are too long and boring to type out (even for this blog! heh.), and hooked it to my pen. I just couldn't bare to part with the cute little yellow deelybobthingamajig. So the hole on the tag's left side, that would normally have a key ring slipped through it, now has the little metal arm of a pen cap slipped through it.

This ingenious combination has provided me with much joy at work over the last few days. I can move my pen back and forth and see the yellow deelybobthingamajig twirl and twirl and twirl around the shoulder bend of the caps little metal arm. Ooohhh. Aaahhh.

Good times.

Until today. Because as a wise men once said, "Don't walk on a beach wearing nothing but assless chaps." "All good things must come to an end." And it did.

A few minutes ago I was de-stressing over a rush job I'd finished for Mr. BigBossMan and as hungry as a hippo with a bunch of white plastic balls in front of it. That means I was a bit distracted when I started to play with my Twirly Pen Deelybobthingamajig Combo Contraption 5000 (trademark pending). I sat, and twirled, and debated taking my lunch break. It wasn't a long debate, but I kept playing with the deelybobthingamajig, sliding it up and down the pen cap arm. Then I started pushing the tag up against the bend in the arm of the pen cap, which was pushed down tightly on my pen. Since I was distracted, I didn't realize the amount of force I was applying to the Deelybobthingamajig, and the cap. And because I am She-Ra and all powerful the cap shot off the pen, flew across my desk, and landed between it and the window in front of me. Waaaaay at the bottom of the Valley of the Shadow of Dust Bunnies. It's freakin' scary down there!

And, of course, there is no easy way to retrieve my pen cap and deelybobthingamajig from the Dust Bunnies. I'd have to move the computer. And the desk out from the window. And bend completely over my desk which would cause my ass to stick up in the air for all to see and... yeah. Not a good plan. So I've lost my pen cap and deelybobthingamajig. No more twirly joy for me. *sniffle*

Wednesday, February 25, 2004

I work with criminal people - work stuff part 3

I always miss out on the good stuff. Something 'went down' here at work over the weekend, and I missed it. Darn it! A supervisor and my Immediate Boss were talking in Secret Sharing Whisper Voices here in the office a few minutes ago so at least I was able to hear about it even if I couldn't see it.

The story is this: my Immediate Boss was working the third shift this past weekend when a couple of Stuffy Shirts came in to the building to do 'something'. Mr. BigBossMan was there because of the Stuffy Shirts and when Immediate Boss wondered out loud who they were and what they were doing, Mr. BBM said, "Shhhhh. I'll tell you about it later." Mr. BBM whispered this several times apparently, trying to make a big deal about how this was Secret Stuff, and only he knew about it. About a half hour later one of the workers came up to Immediate Boss and said, 'hey, did you see JohnD hauled out of here in handcuffs?' Apparently it wasn't such a secret after all. In a matter of minutes everyone new what had happened.

Turns out the Stuffy Shirts were FBI guys and the worker was arrested on some drug charge. They were supposed to nab his brother here as well, but the brother clairvoyantly called in sick. I can't believe it. There were freakin feebs in the building and I missed them! I missed Mulder and Scully! Heh.

It's not the first time though.

A year or two ago, when I worked in the veeeery back of the building, there was a big stake out of the front of the building. And I just missed out on the cops and FBI guys rushing into the parking lot looking for their man. Darn it! Turns out they were looking for someone getting off on the third shift (apparently that's a popular shift for criminals that aren't smart enough to get away with shit). Third shift leaves around the time I am arrive, so I could have been right there in the parking lot when they took him down. Only they didn't catch him. The cops and feebs were staked out across the street, waiting for the guy to get in his car and drive away. The car never left the parking lot. The guy must have gotten tipped off, because he got a ride from someone else.

An hour after he was supposed to have left, the cops and fbi with their shotguns and take down gear came out of their stake out hidey holes and entered the building. They searched everywhere for him, I was told, because I missed witnessing that too. DARN IT! I was in the very back in a tiny little hole of an office away from everyone and missed all the action and excitement.

I wouldn't miss it now, now that I'm up in the front with a great view of the parking lot, front gate, and street. I wouldn't miss that last scenario that is. I missed the first one though, because the FBI had to do it earlier in the morning. Darn it. I have the microwave-able movie popcorn in my desk, all ready to go and everything!

I work with funny people - work stuff part 2

Old Guy in Office is 65 years old. But very young at heart. (Young hormonal boy at heart at that.)

Old Guy in Office: *flirting with vendor over the phone*
Old Guy in Office: *hangs up phone* She told me 'You sound like you're 35.' Huh! I wish I was!
Not So Old Guy in Office: I wish you were too. I'd ask you out.
Old Guy in Office: BWAHAHAHA
Young Whippersnapper Me: *snicker*

Not So Old Guy is the guy who sits next to me. I shall call him Mr. Funny. (Because he's a mister and I find him funny - not a real complicated naming system here today.) We were talking earlier about how it would be nice if we could write up the people who don't do there work. They don't do their work, then they don't get penalized for it. How else is anyone going to get them to do their work? The bosses blowing smoke up their asses and cheering 'Go Team! Go!' isn't motivating enough for them. Mr. Funny's job would be easier, because he's supposed to schedule everyone's work, if they were held accountable for the work they are supposed to do. But he isn't a supervisor. He has no authority to say, 'Hey beyotches! Do your work or you will be written up for it!'

We both bitched about it for a minute, then went on to other things. A few minutes later, Mr. Funny handed me a post-it note and said, "This is how I write everybody up."


Get it? Took me a second. Then I busted up with the giggles. This workday has certainly started off on a very entertaining note. Hope your day has too! :)

I work with stupid people - work stuff part 1

I do. I work with stupid people. Some times it's frustrating. Other times it's entertaining. For example...

There are huge double entrance doors at the front of the building where I work. Right next to it is one of the employee entrances. You used to be able to walk in and out through this door, but now they've rigged it so that you can only exit through it.

I had heard that they were making the change yesterday. This morning, as I was walking up to the side door, I remembered the change and entered through the main double doors. I clocked in, realized I'd forgotten something in my car, and walked out the side door (because that's where one of the time clocks is located) to the parking lot. When I tried to enter the building again, I did what I am used to doing every morning, and tried to enter through the side door. But it was locked. D'oh! It's locked from the outside now! Silly me! So I took no more than four steps to the main double doors and entered the building. Simple. Easy.

When door is locked find other door. Duh.

Seems this is too complicated for some people. A few employees are complaining.

Employee: I couldn't get in.
Front Desk Lady: That's because that door is locked.
Employee: Well how else am I supposed to get in?

Someone actually asked that. I know because I've heard all about it from Front Desk Lady. The employee had to find a way into the building to ask this all-important question, yet they were still boggled on how to enter the damn building? Is it that hard to enter through another door? If they don't want to enter through the main door, there is another employee entrance a few feet away. OMG are these people stupid??? Or just lazy? Probably a bit of both.

Someone in the office made a good point: These are the people that are out there working for us. Scary stuff, that.

Right now, there's a supervisor in the office complaining. Blah blah blah. Someone in the office here asked if she could write up a work order for some work that she says needs to be done. She says she has no time to write it up. She starts going off about how it would be nice if she had enough time to sit in the office and type all day. I really wanted to point out that the time and the effort she put into her bitchfest would have been more than enough time and effort she'd need to sit at her damn computer and write up a work order like she's supposed to! A work order that would help out the people who are trying to do their job, which is in part to help her out. ARRRRRGGGGGGG!

I wanted to mention this. But I can't. I'm just a little peon here. Little peons can't risk rocking the oceanliner. But I should start making a list. A list of all the things I want to say to all the doofusses (doofusi) here at work in my Resignation Speech, the one I'll be giving once I've won a million bucks and don't have to work here any more. One of the things on that list is 'Fuck all y'all! Peace out!' I think I should start adding to it so I have a decent list of farewells. 'You sir are a moron!' Oh yeah, that's going on the list too.

Another dead on ringer!

You're Watership Down!
by Richard Adams
Though many think of you as a bit young, even childish, you're actually incredibly deep and complex. You show people the need to rethink their assumptions, and confront them on everything from how they think to where they build their houses. You might be one of the greatest people of all time. You'd be recognized as such if you weren't always talking about talking rabbits.
Take the Book Quiz at the Blue Pyramid.

I've never read this book. But since I might be one of the greatest people of all time, I probably should. Just so I know how great I am. That why I can let others know how high up the Great Scale I am. Not that they don't know all ready, it will be just a friendly reminder. Which nobody will mind because I'm one of the greatest people of all time. Which is partly due to the fact that I know that rabbits talk.

Tuesday, February 24, 2004

Yep. This is pretty accurate...

You are Schroeder!
Which Peanuts Character are You? brought to you by Quizilla

I can't play the piano like Schroeder. But I wish I could. I can play a mean air-piano though. Oh yeah!

*twiddles fingers madly in the air*

And yeah, dammit, those boughts or neurosis are frequent. FREQUENT I TELL YOU!!!


Ten on Tuesday

Ten Places You Want to Visit
  1. Detroit - to see my brother
  2. Florida - mainly the beach my aunt and uncle go to every day
  3. New York
  4. New Zealand
  5. Mars
  6. Disney art design tech room
  7. Narnia
  8. Hogwarts
  9. a movie set while a favorite actor is working there
  10. a sparkling clean gas station potty room (no, I don't want to visit one right now, but I would like to visit one when I'm on the road and in desperate need to potty!)

Tuesday is Chooseday

tuesday is chooseday

Would you rather...

1. lose the thumb on your dominant hand in a hunting accident OR lose your non-dominant foot in a rock climbing accident?

I love my right thumb. He's my friend. He's been with me through thick and then, always there to lend a ha- ... lend support. He's always there to comfort me, in his little thumby way, when I'm sad and lonely. I love Mr. Right Thumb. But if it's between him and my left foot, I'm blowing that little fucker off in a hunting accident. I could handle a fake thumb better than I could a fake foot, which I would need if I didn't want to walk lopsided. And as sexy as that is, I think I'd want a fake foot replacement.

2. take care of 20 screaming toddlers everyday OR work in the sewers of new york everyday?

Which would smell worse? I'm thinking the sewers. I'd rather take care of the screaming brats then. I worked in a church nursery every Sunday for about a year and had to deal with a few screaming toddlers (fun times, let me tell ya!). I think I could handle 20 of them if I had to. I'd go crazy and start pulling my hair out and walk around mumbling incoherently, but I could handle it.

3. invent a cure for lung cancer that makes the person never able to walk again OR makes the person blind?

I think I'd rather never walk again, so that's the cure I would invent.

4. your 10 year old child find you masturbating OR hear you speaking derogitively towards a racial minority neighbor?

There's no way I want the first to happen. Nope. Not at all. Wouldn't want to explain that. But I could explain the other. I'd rather they hear me speaking derogatively, then we could sit down and have a nice chat about how I was mean and wrong and shouldn't speak about other people that way. I would tell them I learned the error of my ways. Then I'd throw in a nice motherly threat about what I would do if I ever heard them repeat those, or any other, derogatory remarks. :)

Monday, February 23, 2004

Joe Quiztaker

What cartoon dog are you?
Brought to you by the good folks at

Paws down, Snoopy is the best dog ever! Which is why I had to cheat to get him. (I only changed one of my answers before I got the Snoopy result! Honest! I had to change it, my first results were sooooo not me.)

I don't always get my way (dammit all to heck!) but I love offering advice to others. I'm just not any good at it. But when has that stopped me from doing anything? Never!

Maybe I should start my own advice column here.

Dear Loon,
This grape flavored popsicle tastes more like cherry. What should I do?
- Confused in Toledo

Dear Dipshit Confused,
Is your popsicle purple enough? If it isn't, try eating a blueberry popsicle. the blue will offset the red flavor of the cherry and make your tongue purple.
- Loon
Marriage is love.

Sunday, February 22, 2004

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... and you think ... ?

  1. Angel:: the vampire puppet. Loved Spike's reaction: "You're a bloody puppet!" hehehe.
  2. Birth:: control
  3. Logic:: spock
  4. Stars:: "are you lonesome tonight..." -- (why an elvis song popped into my head for this i have no friggin idea)
  5. Nursery:: rhyme
  6. View:: from the top
  7. Hart:: to Hart
  8. Creation:: evil genius scientist's goal
  9. End:: Game
  10. Fortune:: wheel of

Friday, February 20, 2004

Strolling down Memory Lane... part 2

I was reading about some of AJ's memories and it got me to thinking about some of my own. So here are my answers to Friday's edition of Daily Dirt.

1. Earliest childhood memory

One of the earliest memories I have, I was with my parents at some party. I don't know how old I was, but I know it was before I was five. I remember being in a really pretty dress, and riding around on a big toy car you sit on like it’s a horse, and you move it by pushing with your feet, and you steer with a big steering wheel protruding from the top of it. Only it wasn't a car. It was a plastic tennis shoe. Yep. I was riding a big plastic shoe in my pretty party dress.

2. Worst memory

First thing that comes to mind is my great grandmother's funeral. I was sitting between my mother, who was clutching my hand, and my brother, who was trying hard not to cry. I remember feeling fuzzy. Like the whole experience was surreal. The worst part of it though was sitting right behind my grandmother, my great grandmother's daughter. The priest kept messing up my g.gma's name, which terribly upset my grandmother. She kept going on about how he was messing it up and kept correcting him. And she was shaking all over and... well, it was just horrible.

3. Embarassing memory

I don't embarrass easily. Which comes in handy when I have the urge to burst out in song in public places. But I've got a few good embarrassing moments in my memory banks.

Okay, picture this: I'm a senior in high school. Which means I'm supposed to be at least semi cool, right? Cooler than the freshmen, at least. That's by default. A privilege earned just by being alive longer and sticking out the whole high school thing for a couple years.

Okay. Now picture this: my high school campus was like a college campus, with several class buildings spread out all over the place, not like one great big building you see a lot on tv and in movies. There was an open area near the front that was called Campus Circle because, well, it was in the shape of a big circle. A big grassy circle that was lower than the surrounding cement walkways, meaning you had to walk down two or three steps to get there. In some places there were cement stairs, in other places it was just a three foot drop. At the north end there was a row of class rooms. At the east end there was a long stretch of cement, then the library, and a bunch of other classroom buildings beyond that. At the south end of the Circle was the cafeteria, with more buildings beyond that as well. At the west end of the Circle was the front offices, and beyond was the parking lot. So the Circle was surrounded on two sides by classrooms, and was pretty much in front of the whole entire school.

That part is key. It was IN FRONT OF THE WHOLE ENTIRE SCHOOL. Got that?

I had last period with AJ and my brother (he's not my age, it was an elective class) and our class room was in the building right to the north of Campus Circle. So the bell rings, its time to go home, and the whole student body starts pouring out of their classrooms. Me, AJ, and my bro make a beeline for the parking lot, which meant we cut across Campus Circle. We walked down the set of stairs, walked across the grass, and approached the other side. Now remember, classes just let out, and most of the classes were behind us, so that meant there were MANY of my peers behind us. MANY in clear view of us.

Normally, instead of detouring a little towards the stairs, we would just step up to the higher level and continue on to the parking lot. See where I'm going with this? Do you? Well, normally this is what would happen. And had happened quite a few times before The Incident. You'd think I would have had enough practice at it. But noooooo. Not this time (and one time is all it takes to make a fool out of yourself). I didn't quite have my mind on the task at hand, which is vital to a klutz like me, so when I performed my little hop up to the upper level, which wasn't even knee level as I recall, I didn't quite bring my foot all the way up. Instead of landing on the cement, like I was supposed to, my foot hit the side of it, which caused my legs to stay where they were. My upper body was in motion, and very impatient, and wasn't going to wait for my lower body to catch up it. So I flew forward like the spaz I am and landed on the ground. Sprawled out on the ground like a big dork. FOR THE WHOLE STUDENT BODY TO SEE!

Okay, not the whole student body. But a lot of them. I didn't turn around and take inventory (I was busy experiencing a painful moment of embarrassment and a quick dash of hope that a flying elvis was spotted overhead, drawing everyone's attention away from what/who was crash landing in front of them) but I'm sure there were a couple crushes back there, a few people I looked up to and thought were the ult, a few I disliked and didn't want to show weakness in front of, and a bunch of freshmen I was supposed to be cooler than.

I took a dive in front of all those people and more. Me. A senior. Flying threw the air like some kind of flying thing. I was only on the ground for a millisecond though, because as soon as I landed I jumped up like nothing had happened.

Meant to do that. Yep. No, no. I'm fine. Blood? What blood? Oh that. It's just a scratch. It's nothing. Meant to do that you know. Buh-bye now.

I lost so many coolness points that day. And I was seriously lacking in that department to begin with. :)

4. Romantic memory

It was spring break, and a few months after the HB and I had started dating. We were both staying at our parent's houses during the college break, and were only about an hour away from each other. We were both busy during the week, but had planned on getting together over the weekend. We called each other ever day though and chatted. Wednesday afternoon we talked for a couple minutes, then he said he'd call me back later that night at 10pm. 'Okay,' I thought.
'Whatever'. At 10pm he called, but he said he was in the middle of something and would call me back in an hour.

What I said: Okay.
What I was thinking: WHATEVER! @#$%&

So 11pm rolled around. No call. A few minutes later, still no call, so I tried calling him. All I got was a weird 'cell phone out of range' message. I was getting all kinds of ticked off. At around 11:30pm he called, and we started talking. He sounded kind of funny and I picked up on it by the second or third sentence out of his mouth. I didn't know what to make of it. He sounded like he was grinning like the Chesire cat. What was he so pleased with? Then he said something about walking outside. 'Why?' I asked. 'Because' he said. It took me a couple 'Why?'s to finally click on to it. I walked outside in the middle of the night and found the HB leaning against his car, which was parked across the street from my parent's house. He was standing there with a dozen roses. Just for lil' ol me. Awwwwwwwe.

He was late in calling me because he was pulled over for speeding. It took a bit longer getting the roses than he thought it would so he was trying to make up for lost time. The cop liked his 'delivering roses story' so only gave him a warning. Otherwise those would have been really expensive roses. I gave him a great big kiss, then he jumped back in his car, drove an hour back home so he could get up in a couple hours for some family thing he had to go to. All that time and effort for a flower delivery, five minute stay, and a kiss. :) :)

5. Grossest memory

Um... AJ puking on the side of the house? Heh heh heh. Just kidding AJ. :)

Okay, grossest memory... I was in the sixth grade, and my family and I were visiting relatives and friends in New Zealand. We were riding the ferry between the two islands, standing outside on the deck to watch the scenery as we approached our destination. The scenery included a couple of seagulls. I was watching one seagull in particular and I saw exactly when it pooped. And it didn't let just on poop drop go. Ohhhhh no. It let loose SEVERAL BIRD POOP BOMBS. And I stood there, paralyzed with fear as I watched the poop bombs spread out to reach their many targets, and could not move a muscle. Even though I knew one of those poop bombs was heading towards me. It was like time slowed down. The poop bomb came every so slowly towards me. And I was helpless to do anything about it. Even if I had been able to move, I wouldn't have been fast enough. That sucker was flying nearly at the speed of light. Even in slow motion.

So my pretty purple jacket was splattered with bird poop. I was soooo grossed out. Damn seagulls.

Damn. That was kind of a long post. Bonus brownie points to anyone still with me here. :)

Strolling down Memory Lane... part 1

I'm in a 'Let's Pretend I'm a Singing Super Star' mood tonight so I'm listening to a bunch of CDs with girls singing on them. So I can pretend I'm just like them. I've got Etta James, The Carpenters, Spice Girls, Nnenna Freelon, and a few others ready to be played. I'm thinking about adding my Disney Princesses CD to the mix. I'd add Patsy Cline to the play list, but I don't have her on CD, which is something I plan on doing once I find a CD with all the songs I want on it. I found it once, a cd with a rare favorite of mine on it, and I didn't buy it. *smacks palm to forehead for umpteenth time*

But I digress... Debbie Gibson's Greatest Hits is playing in the CD player right now. And it's bringing back soooo many warm fuzzy memories. When her Electric Youth album came out, I was about 9 or 10 I think, and I just had to have it. My mom bought it on cassette for me and I listened to it EVERY SINGLE NIGHT! For many, many months. Sometimes I'd listen to just a song or two before I fell asleep. Sometimes I'd listen to a whole side. Or both sides. Or just Lost in Your Eyes over and over and over and over again. I loved that freakin song. Sometimes I'd just listen, other times I'd sing out loud, pretending I was Debbie (I was too young at the time to even fathom the possibility that my bedroom walls weren't really all that soundproof, and I was singing loud enough for my parents to hear, which I'm sure they did on occasion, which embarrasses me highly to think about so I will end this particular flashback right now). Whenever the song came on the radio during the day I would sing along, and my mom loved it. She said I sounded just like Debbie Gibson. I didn't, but I loved her for saying so. As I'm singing along to it now, I realize that I sound even less like her. I grew up and lost my Debbie singing voice! Waaahhhhhh! Now I'll never become a famous singer! Maybe I'm just out of practice. Yeah, that's it.

Anywho, I was obsessed with my Electric Youth tape (I even got the Electric Youth perfume as a gift once!) I listened to it every night. And after awhile I created a whole mental music video for Lost in Your Eyes, staring yours truly of course, and I would play it over and over again in my head. I had scenes for almost every song on that tape. They played out like my own little musical, staring yours truly of course. I don't recall much about the daydream musical, but I know I always got the guy in the end. Of course. And he was, well... dreamy. For Lost In Your Eyes I was on a beach. And there was a swing set there. I would sit on my swing, stare out at the ocean, and sing about getting lost in My Love's eyes. ::sigh::

The song Electric Youth didn't really fit into my musical scenario, so during that song I pictured myself singing and dancing on stage for a sort of school talent show/musical extravaganza, staring yours truly of course. I was awesome. And the crowd loved me. I wasn't the only one on stage. I had background dancers. But I was the main feature.

Those were some good daydreams. This 'best of' cd is okay, but I miss listening to that Electric Youth album. I wonder if I still have it somewhere... I doubt it. Darn. I think I might have to go buy it. Just so I can listen to some of those songs again. I should write a thank you letter to Debbie Gibson for writing such wonderful songs, and inspiring me to create such vivid daydreams that kept me entertained for hours on end.

ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod!

Ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod. I'm freaking out. A good kind of freak out. (Le Freak, c'est chic. Freak out!) I'm excited and I'm nervous and there are butterflies moshpitting in my stomach and I'm giddy as all heckity heck heck heck.


See, I've enrolled in this online writing class. And I am thuper excited about it. I am taking the next step to Grownup Writer Land. Yay! I sent the money for the class the other day (more money than I should be sending anyone but the credit card mongers but I said fuck it! I can go a bit more in debt it will be fine and it will be fun and it will be all good in the end and ohmygod I'm taking an actual writing class!). Are you picking up on how much I'm looking forward to it? I'm also nervous, because, well, what if I become swamped with a major case of Writing Suckage? That would, well, suck. But I'll least I'll be learning something during The Suckage. I hope.

Anyways, where was I? Oh yeah. I sent the money for the class the other day and when I checked my email this morning I saw a message from the teacher titled 'Check Arrived.' Woo! Now I'm officially enrolled in the class! No more than five minutes later I got an email from the teacher with the class instructions. And you know what? CLASS STARTS NEXT MONDAY! OMG that's sooooo soon!

As I was reading the list of how this class would work I got all jittery. Excited jittery. I'm really going to do this. I'm really going to be getting instructions from this college writing professor and I'm going to be writing all these things and submitting them and he will be evaluating them and such and other people will be reading my stuff. I hope he's ruthless. Seriously. I need all the help I can get. I've written fan fiction before, and have had that edited and commented on. But this will be different. With this class I'll have to make up my own stuff. From scratch. And not rely on anyone else's story for background. Does that make sense? I'm not sure if I'm making sense right now so just stop me if you're confused. Okay? Okay. Good.

The class is six weeks. There's an assignment each week. Assignments! Yay! (I wish I could feel this enthusiastic about college assignments.) The last week I'll have to write an actual short story. Or a chapter of a book or something. Don't quite know yet. But it will be big time stuff. For me anyway. I know, I know, some of my posts can ramble on and on until it feels like one of those painfully boring books you have to read for English class and you don't really pay attention to and... I forgot where I was going to go with that. Damn. Already with The Suckage!! heh. :)

I am so glad I participated in NaNoWriMo last year. And I'm glad I went to the 'write-in's and met up with local nanowrimo-ers. Because at the end of NaNoWriMo a few of us said, 'hey, let's keep meeting and form our own group and such.' So we did. Form a group that is. They started up a yahoo group and I'm getting all this information on writing stuff. Like this class. Yay!

So I guess this post is sort of a warning. I'll be sure to be anxious/excited/frustrated/giddy in the next six weeks and will be sure to bitch all about it here. Because I will be sure to procrastinate (its an important part of the writing process. Honest. A English professor told me that once. Honest! I'm not just making that up for my benefit!) and I will procrastinate partly by blogging. To get the fingers and the brain warmed up. Yeah. That's it.

On another note, some guy is standing behind me and he smells so bad my eyes are about to water. ::gag:: I think its time for a coffee break. Can't concentrate anyway. :)

ahhhh freak out!

I wish my milkshake was better than yours. All mine does is bring cross-eyed chipmunks to the yard. Hrmph!

ENVY (part 7)

1. What item (or person) of your friends would you most want to have for your own?:
I'm sure one of those lucky bastards has a digital camera.

2. Who would you want to go on "Trading Spaces" with?:
Weird Al Yankovic

3. If you could be anyone else in the world, who would you be?:
the inventor of the post-it note

4. Have you ever been cheated on?:
don't think so

5. Have you ever wished you had a physical feature different from your own?:
yes. there was a time when I wished wings sprouted from my back. and that time was five minutes ago.

6. What inborn trait do you see in others that you wish you had for yourself?:
the ability to talk without getting tongue tied. Tongue knots are so hard to get out when they're covered in spit.

7. Do you wish you'd come up with this survey?:
no. I wish I'd come up with a better one.

8. Finally, what is your favorite deadly sin?:
what are the seven again? Sneezy? Doc? Dopey? I like Dopey.

Thursday, February 19, 2004

King Kong ain't got nuthin on me! Except height. And strength. And hair. And a way with the ladies (not that I need a way with the ladies). And...

PRIDE (part 6)

1. What one thing have you done that you're most proud of?:
I learned to tie my shoes! I have tied shoes! No more velcro for me! My shoes are tied! Wheeeeeee!

2. What one thing have you done that your parents are most proud of?:
refraining from using exclamation points five sentences in a row.

3. What thing would you like to accomplish in your life?:

4. Do you get annoyed by coming in second place?:
I used to prefer it to first place when I was little. I know, I know. Silly girl! Back when my favorite color was red, me and my fellow relay girls on my rec swim team always came in second place. I didn't mind so much because it meant I got another pretty red ribbon. Yay! It did become annoying after awhile because no matter who we swam against we always got second place. Until the end of summer, that is. We came in first at the championship swim meet, when it counted, because they didn't hand out dinky ribbons there. It was trophy time baby! Wooo! Now my favorite color is blue. Does that mean I now have enough sense to want to come in first place? :) Maybe. But I still don't get annoyed when I come in second place, unless it's a race and I loose by one hundredth of a second. That frelling chaps my ass!

5. Have you ever entered a contest of skill, knowing you were of much higher skill than all the other competitors?:
Yes. I love schooling second graders at hopscotch. Just the other day I had this little girl weeping in defeat. Go me!

6. Have you ever cheated on something to get a higher score?:
Yes. Though I would never cheat on the HB to get a higher score. He's pretty high on the score meter. [insert big cheesy grin here]

7. What did you do today that you're proud of?:
I have not been mortifyingly embarrassed by tripping/falling/slipping on the ground and have not broken/sprained/twisted/bruised anything. I'm very proud of that. Go me!

I want a feast. I want a bean feast!

GREED (part 5)

1. How many credit cards do you own?:
too many + 1. The + 1 is in the mail. (At first I typed 'male'. The card is in the male. That sentence creates quite an interesting image in my head.)

2. What's your guilty pleasure store?:
my first thought is Borders, but I'm not guilty about that. My next thought is Starbucks, because we were talking about it earlier today. Going there always feels like a guilty pleasure because it costs too damn much for coffee. It's coffee for Friggy McGriggin's sake!

3. If you had $1 million, what would you do with it?:
I'd move into the evil genius lair I've had my eye on for the past couple months. I've dog-eared its page in the Evil Genius Lair Brochure I picked up at the realtor's office. It's a phat lair too. And if I put down a large enough deposit I can get a dozen henchmen for free. As a sort of a lair-warming gift.

4. Would you rather be rich, or famous?:
Being famous and not rich could mean your fame isn't from something good. Like, say, getting your nose bit off by a wild schizophrenic albino llama with weight issues named Burt whose crimes of the day also include terrorizing a fieldtrip-ing kindergarten class and peeing on the mayor/governor/Baby Spice's shoes. So I'd rather be rich.

5. Would you accept a boring job if it meant you would make megabucks?:
Hell yeah! Work for a couple of years, save up the megabucks, invest a little here and there, then retire so you don't have to worry about accepting any more boring jobs. That's my life plan.

6. Have you ever stolen anything?:
many times, but nothing bigger than an xtra large pizza or more expensive than a... well... just a random example of course. *bats eyes innocently*

7. How many MP3s are on your hard drive?:
I have no idea. Especially if the MP3 police are reading this. And hey, let's be honest, who isn't reading this?! Feh!

Wednesday, February 18, 2004

Dammit! There's never an orgy around when you need one!

LUST (part 4)

1. How many people of the opposite sex have you seen naked (not counting movies/family)?:
A lady never tells. And neither do I.

2. How many people of the opposite sex have seen YOU naked (not counting physicians/family)?:
Well... uhm.... all I'm gonna say is that no one that didn't have expressed written consent has lived to tell about it. Though there was this one time when I was changing in a locker room... and someone opened the door... and I was right frelling there! Naked in the doorway!! But since I didn't hear anyone scream "MY EYES! MY EYES!" I don't think anyone saw me.

3. Have you ever caught yourself staring at the chest/crotch of a member of your gender of choice during a normal conversation?:
Better question: When have I not caught myself ogling some guy's crotch? Or staring at some other girlies boobies?

4. Have you "done it"?:

5. What is your favorite body part on a person of your gender of choice?:
a man's left nostril. Something about that little hairy hole just drives me wild. ROWR!

6. Have you ever been propositioned by a prostitute?:
Uhhhhh... I don't think so.

7. Have you ever had to get tested for an STD or pregnancy?:
If STD stands for something other than Sexy Titties Disorder, then no, I haven't.

Feed me Seymour!

GLUTTONY (part 3)

1. What is your overpriced yuppie beverage of choice?:
when I'm in a overpricing yuppie mood I like to be addicted to caramel macchiatos. I have my mommy to thank for the attraction. She introduced us. :)

2. Meat eaters: white meat or dark meat?:
depends on the source - and the style in which its cooked.

3. What is the greatest amount of alcohol you've had in one sitting/outing/event?
well, the outings/events I've had the most to drink at, I had so much to drink I couldn't remember the amount afterwards. I was so busy pounding drinks I forgot to keep tabs of it all in my handy dandy notebook! *gasp* I did survive a round of the Century Club once, so that was like 7 beers (as my hazy memory of the night recalls) in a little over an hour. That's a pretty high up there for me. :)

4. Have you ever used a professional diet company?:
I'm not coming up with funny answers this round. Maybe I should go to a professional for help.

5. Do you have an issue with your weight?:
yes. my weight always wants to watch reruns of Alf while I'd rather watch reruns of Saved By The Bell

6. Do you prefer sweet, salty, sour, bitter or spicy foods?:
I like my food like I like my men. (no, not bitter. That's for after I'm done with them! MWAHAHAHAHA!) I like sweet.

7. Have you ever looked at a small house pet or child and thought, "LUNCH!"?:
Well, there was this one time... when the cat looked at me and mewed pitifully. I realized it was hungry. And so was I. So I thought "LUNCH!" and proceeded to share a can of tuna with the cat.

Tuesday, February 17, 2004

Couch Potato Directions: Yawn. Scratch. Flip the tv channel. Repeat.

SLOTH (part 2)

1. What is one thing you're supposed to do daily that you have not done in a long time?:
pick my nose - its due for a cleaning

2. What is the latest you've ever woken up?:
Er... I have no idea. I've woken up after dinnertime a few times. Either because I'm sick or I didn't get around to going to bed until earlier that morning. Can't remember anything specific at the moment though.

3. Name a person you've been meaning to contact, but haven't:
Steven Spielberg. I think I'm perfect for his next movie. Whatever it is. He needs me in it. He just doesn't know it yet.

4. What is the last lame excuse you made?:
"Aliens ate my homework. Then they gave my dog an anal probe. So I've been kind of busy cleaning up the mess, ya know?"

5. Have you ever watched an infomercial all the way through?:
the Dean Martin Roasts... Johnny Carson Tonight Show episodes... Nads... the one with Davy Jones hocking the 70s songs CD collection....

6. When was the last time you got a good workout in?:
hmmm... not as long as its been since I got a good workin out. [ba dum bump *cymbal noise*]

7. How many times did you hit the snooze button on your alarm clock today?:
0 - because I'm that good! (And because the alarm is set for the last possible minute of sleepytime. If I snooze it I'd be late for work.)


I found this '7 deadly sins' meme here a long time ago. It's been hibernating in my computer for a while and I forgot all about it. Until today. So here it is, the first of seven installments of the 7 Deadly Sins meme. (I'm doing installments to prolong the fun. And because I'm not quite done with it.)

ANGER (part 1)

1. Who did you last get angry with?:
probably the HB. something's always his fault. especially when I'm PMSing.

2. What is your weapon of choice?:
flaming ninja stars

3. Would you hit a member of the opposite sex?:
I can only hit his member? If he pissed me off enough, sure I'd hit it.

4. How about of the same sex?:
Sure. If I could hit her with a pillow... while sitting on the same bed as her... and a bunch of her girl friends... while we all wear skimpy jammies... and are giddy and giggly and...

5. Who was the last person who got really angry at you?:
probably someone on the highway. Sorry dude. My bad. Didn't see you there.

6. What is your pet peeve?:
my pet peeve is a goldfish. Peeve is shiny and orange and he likes to make bubbles. He is dis many [holds up three fingers] years old. I had another pet goldfish named Mr. Sniffers. But he died. The end.

7. Do you keep grudges, or can you let them go easily?:
My motto: If you have a grudge, let it go. If it comes back to you it's yours. If not, it was never your grudge to begin with.

Tuesday is Chooseday

tuesday is chooseday

Would you rather...

1. Your family and friends find out that you have downloaded (from the internet) instructions on how to make a bomb OR midget fetish porn?

I would rather my friends think I'm downloading bomb instructions. My excuse for either one could be 'I was just curious.' But that's not necessarily a good excuse. So I'd tell them, 'I was doing research for my book!' I'd rather they think I was writing some thriller where the good guys have to find the bad guys then disarm a bomb than writing some thriller where the good guys are looking for some bad guy who dabbles in midget fetish porn.

Actually... I wonder if I can use that last one in my next story... hmm....

2. Make your living emptying other people's garbage OR giving sumo wrestlers massages?

I would rather give sumo wrestlers massages. It would teach me some good massage techniques, and I'd build up some really strong hands working the kinks out of all that flesh. Then I'd be all set to compete in the national arm wrestler's competition. And kick ass! Woo! Then I'd be able to scratch off another item from my Things To Do Before I Die list.

3. Run naked through your grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary OR through your best friend's wedding?

I'd rather run naked through my grandparent's 50th wedding anniversary. I think my family would be more forgiving. Slightly more. Plus, most of the relatives that would show up to the anniversary party would be a lot older than the guests that would show up at my best friend's wedding, so the hideous memory of my streaking flesh wouldn't last as long. A lot older meaning they'll likely be taking that memory to their grave a lot faster.

4. Find a tree that will only grow in Chicago that grows money, but only grows Chilean Pesos OR only grows Icelandic Kronur?

Well, if I'm reading the conversion calculations correctly (and there's a BIG margin of error here folks) then I'd rather find a tree that only grows Icelandic Kronur. To convert the money into US dollars, I'd need less of Kronur to do so. It would take about 661 chilean pesos and 100 icelandic kronur to get a US dollar. I'd rather be carrying the smaller amount around. Plus, since there's less to produce per dollar, that means more dollars!

Anyone know where I can find this tree??? Either one???

Friday, February 13, 2004

the objects in my apartment are possessed and out to get me.

i am currently number 1 at google for the search phrase: "trying not to pee" blog. woohoo!

yes. i am proud.

i am also being attacked by my keyboard. the little fucker. a few weeks ago i was attacked by an evil bookshelf. i still have the scab on the side of my left foot (right where the frelling big toe joint bone is!) where the shelf sliced me. ouchie. so anyway, i think the keyboard thought that my right foot felt left out. it wanted a matching scab! i'm sitting in big comfy chair at the computer desk with the keyboard on my lap. i got distracted for some reason, reached for something, and the keyboard took a flying leap off my lap and dive bombed my right foot. and landed where my big toe meets the rest of my foot. RIGHT. ON. THE. BONE. ouchie! the keyboard failed in its mission though. it only broke the skin a little bit. that means no big scab. just two dinky red marks that look like fang bites.

at this rate the lamp will be knocking me unconscious in a few months. i know i caught it giving me the evil eye the other day.

i have to get all purtied up now so that i can go out to dinner with the HB. but i'm bleeding! and crippled! and such a whine-y baby! okay. i'm over it. moving on.

i need help. yeah, yeah, i know, you need me to narrow it down for ya. okay fine. i need help with this. i found it while visiting Dave Barry's blog. and its driving me batty! i think i've found every item except for one. and there are a few items i can't figure out how to use! i found one item, the battery i think it was, that was difficult to find. go me! but where's the last one? AND WHY CAN'T I GET OUT OF THE ROOM????? i'm going to try it again tomorrow. and oh yes, I WILL CONQUER IT!

but in case i don't, your mission dear faithful readers, and all you first timers mysteriously drawn here by a need to find blogs about trying hard not to pee, your mission is to visit this site, find all the items and figure out what the hell to do with them. then you must give me a hint as to where the last item is! because i just know that that one remaining item is the key to everything! its driving me nutty. so any help would be appreciated. :)

okay. that's all the brain wants to leak out at this moment. so this is ms. limpy, signing off.

Thursday, February 12, 2004

i never thought i'd say this but...

...i'm glad i'm heavy!


when i was at work earlier today i took a break and went to get something from my car. and those santa ana winds were blowing like a mofo in the wind olympics. i checked the weather info at yahoo and it said the winds were blowing 20 mph at the zip code i work in! i think it was more like 30 mph winds. sure that's not in the tornado/hurricane/'my father after eating mexican food' field of awesome wind power, but its still pretty harsh windage.

the palm trees in front of the building were swaying fiercely, dust and leaves and tree scrap that likes to fly into your eyes at the most inopportune time were surfing the wind waves, the window i stare out of was shaking in its hopefully-sturdy frame boots, and anorexic squirrels were lifted up in the air and carried away like a book nerd in a 'going out of business' used book store book sale.

if i were any lighter i might have blown away too!

okay. so no actual squirrels, anorexic or otherwise, were seen flying about today, but that doesn't mean it wasn't happening somewhere else. some place where i wasn't looking. because that wind was blowing hard i tell you!

Wednesday, February 11, 2004

that Charlie, he's so unboobered nonboobered anti-booberous funny

i heart Charlie's Acme Hearts!
gnu poo. tee hee.

Goin' down to South Park, gonna have myself a time

If I were a South Park Character, I would look like this:

and the HB would look like this:

ain't we cute???

Make your own south park character here.

I need to sign up with a new dream company

I had a nightmare last night. It wasn't really scary, and I didn't wake up from it screaming or gasping for air or sitting in a pool of sweat. Nope. None of that. But in my dream I was freaking out a lot. So I guess that would fall into the 'nightmare' category.

Some background information: I'm working only half a day today so I can attend a film and book discussion on female detectives at my library. Hey now, it sounds like fun. And besides, I'm trying to earn my book obsession badge for Geek Scouts. :) I get off work at 10am. The discussion thing starts at 10:30am. I should be able to make it to the library in time, but problems seem to pop up when you least want them.

So, okay, on to the dream...

In my dream, I left work at 9:30. I'm rushing to the library because for some reason I suddenly have less time than I thought I would to get there. Turns out I get there with ten minutes to spare (yeah!) but I'm hungry and want to eat something. I don't have time to find a fast food place so I start to panic. Just a little panic. A worry that I'll be so hungry I won't be able to enjoy the library festivities. Then I realize something. It's only 10:00 and I don't have to be there for another half hour. So I relax. Then I realize 'holy shit I left work early!' So I panic again. Full on butterfly mosh pit kind of panic. I told my boss I'd work up until 10 and I left early and now I was going to be in BIG trouble! Arrrrgggghhhh! And that's all I remember.

How lame is that? That is like the lamest dream I've ever had. I have had lamer ones, but this dream is a close runner up. Or nightmare. But I hardly ever remember my nightmares, so I'm thinking maybe this one was just a dream. A wacked out lame-o dream. Sheeeesh. That's the last time I go to bed wondering if I'll be able to make an event on time. And the last time I wonder if I'll be able to grab a bite to eat first. I blame the dream partly on the tv show I watched yesterday. Most Unique McDonald's, or something like that. It made me want a cheeseburger real bad. Just a word of advice, don't watch shows about food when your hungry. Bad idea.

Tuesday, February 10, 2004


Last time I played Blog It Forward, I mentioned Jodi. This time I'll be mentioning these three blogs. My blogroll is growing (when I can remember to add to it), and everyone on there is mucho worthy, imho, but for now I only have time to BIF two at the moment. So I'll pull up my blog... check out my randomly listed blogroll... pick two from the top... and... the lucky winners are...

princess aj's space

aj's a really good friend of mine. and the only one on my blogroll i've met in real life. i've known aj for like, ever. as far back as the infamous 'Red Rover Incident of '91' hehehe. that was back in the 6th grade, wasn't it aj? anyway, aj has a cool job and awesome taste in tv shows so go check out her blog, get to know her better, leave all kinds of comments and stuff. tell her she needs to blog more often. :) *hint hint hint*

A Comedy Notebook

The author of this site has a great sense of humor. Most of the posts consist of a sentence or two about current events, followed up by a punch line. For example:

According to the Associated Press, Britain will bestow upon Microsoft Chairman Bill Gates an honorary knighthood. As part of the initiation, fellow knights Sir Elton John and Sir Paul McCartney gave Gates a royal wedgie and swirly.

Hahahahahahaha. Oh, and I love the multiple-choice quizzes.

Maximum Verbosity

I really enjoy reading Betty's Search Request Thursday posts. Sadly I don't think she's doing these any more. *sniff* Those always crack me up!

In this SRT post she calls herself a 'geek goddess'. Hehe. It fits. Her blog is a great place to find quizzes. And Farscape links. And all kinds of geeky and/or science links. I enjoy reading her posts of daily goings ons and such.

So, in recap, that's princess aj's space and A Comedy Notebook and Maximum Verbosity. Get it? Got it? Goooooood. Now go visit them!

Tuesday is Chooseday

tuesday is chooseday

Would you rather...

1. Eat broken glass OR eat razor blades?

I'd rather eat broken glass. I think it'd be easier to break glass up into itty bitty pieces for easier swallowing and congestion. Itty bitty razor blade pieces would probably agree with my stomach more though. Oh well. I'm done thinking about this question.

2. Be packed into an elevator with 6 very large sumo wrestlers OR with 6 guys who just got out of a sauna?

I'd rather be packed in an elevator with 6 sauna guys. I've never been in an elevator that would fit that many sumo wrestlers, so that would be very uncomfortable. There would barely be enough room for me, but not enough for me and my 'dance space'. So I'd be wedged in right behind some sumo guys arm pits. And sure, he might have just two minutes ago stepped out of the shower all zestfully clean, but I still don't want to be that close to him. So I'll take being packed in with sauna guys. At least there I won't have sumo arm pit smooshed up my nose.

3. When talking, speak with a lisp OR sound like Elmer Fudd?

I'd wather talk like Fudd. I weally would. No weal weason. I just find it cuter than a lisp.

4. Find out you were adopted and your real parents have died OR find out you were adopted and your real parents are in prison for murder?

I'd rather find out my real parents were dead. Because then I can pretend that they were secret agents who died on a botched mission. Or I could pretend that they were aliens and they sent me somewhere safe because my home planet is at war or is about to go super nova or something. If they're alive and in prison for murder I can't have the 'i'm superwoman' fantasy. Well, maybe they killed to protect my secret identity... hmm...

warning: 6:30 am phone calls may cause a severe case of songstuckinheaditis.

I'd been at work for just half an hour when the phone rang. I looked at the clock on my computer and saw that it was only 6:30. And I thought to myself, WTF? It's 6:30 in the morning! Who's got problems/questions/assignments already? So I pick up the phone, expecting to hear Mr. BigBossMan's voice. Instead, I hear this.

The HB knows how much I love this song. As we were driving to work this morning, Kevin and Bean were talking about the 'roadkill' critters from the quizno subs tv ads on the radio (they're actually called spongemonkeys.) So when the HB got to work he thought he'd pull up the song and listen to it. And he thought he'd call me up at work and hold the phone up to his computer so I could listen to it as well. How sweet. :)

I thanked him for the early smile he put on my face. Then I thanked him for getting the song stuck in my head. Arrrrrrgggggggg!

"We like the moooooon! Coz it is close to us."

Monday, February 09, 2004

The Adventures of Betty Bot!

I've wanted to try my hand at another 50 word fiction story and today I decided to do it. I said to myself 'just do it!' like I was some kind of damn footwear commercial. Or a male enhancement commercial. I'm not sure which. Anyways, I got the idea to write up a short something about one of the characters from my nanowrimo novel. His name is Bert and he's a robot inflicted with a form of Tourette Syndrome. As I began to write, though, the character changed and the story evolved into something different. Something that couldn't quite be contained in just fifty words. So here it is, a quick glance at Betty the Robot, Bert's long lost twin sister.

Betty Bot

Betty wasn't like all the other robots, a fact that was made painfully clear to her during her first attendance of the annual Bodacious Babe Bots of the Berandium System Convention. All the bots in the convention room were programmed with a galactic encyclopedia worth of knowledge, with the crisp accent of snobby royalty, with the manner and style of class and sophistication, and any number of fancy lights, switches and other robotic babe accessories.

Betty, on the other hand, was programmed with the vocabulary of a burly three-headed space sailor. Her programmers, two twelve year old boy geniuses, found it hilarious to teach her phrases that would get a human, especially twelve year old boys, slapped if they ever repeated such foul phrases in public.

Betty surveyed the convention crowd around her and realized she'd been seriously gypped in the 'etiquette programming' area. "Fucking space goobers!" And in the 'bodacious babe bot accessories' area. "How come I ain't got any green light blinkin' titties?"

Betty felt so out of place. But it didn't matter. She knew she could kick all their collective metal asses. "I may be lacking, but they're fucking lacking too," she said to no one in particular. Unfortunately for Betty, her two creators also programmed her with an audible inner monologue. "They're lacking a serious dent in the ass from my metal boot."

A group of babe bots standing nearby overheard Betty's remarks. They swiveled their heads around one hundred and eighty degrees until they were looking at Betty disdainfully. If they had had noses, they would have been looking down them. "Such vulgar language is not appropriate here," said one of the robots. "You should leave."

"Maybe you just have the wrong room," said another robot in the group. "The Convention of Junk Heaps is just down the hall."

The group electronically twittered. The circuits in Betty's brain network were rapid firing, trying to think of the appropriate comeback. Betty's creators were also cheap in the harddrive upgrades.

A babe bot Betty hadn't noticed before stepped up beside her. "Ah shut up beeyotches!" the new arrival said to the group. "You're standing there looking like a bunch of Terrelian Snot Slugs and you're still here ain't you?"

The electronic twitters stopped.

The stranger bot turned to Betty. "Name's Norma."

"Betty." Betty's mouth grid of electronic lights curved up into a smile. "Know a way we can liven up this lame ass party?"

"Hell yeah I do." Norma punched the button doubling as her left nipple and her stomach paneling dropped away to reveal a hi-tech console. Norma punched a button on the console and a list of songs appeared. "It's Karaoke time!"

The rest of the convention was a blast with Betty ending the festivities in a awe inspiring rendition of "Mama's Don't Let You're Test Tube Babies Grow Up To Be Space Cowboys."

The End

Sunday, February 08, 2004

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... and you think ... ?

  1. Identity:: theft
  2. Reveal:: the man behind the curtain
  3. Live:: action nude girls
  4. Attitude:: what of it? You got a problem with it?
  5. Night:: owl
  6. Nevada:: las vegas
  7. Weekend:: at Bernie's - (a movie I've seen way too many times than is probably healthy)
  8. Write:: a story - (something I plan on doing after this)
  9. Friend:: pal
  10. Seventeen:: "I am sixteen going on seventeen. I know that I'm naïve..."

Friday, February 06, 2004

Squirrels like me. Squirrels like nuts. Therefore, logically, me is nuts.

Earlier today...

DeskNeighbor P: I think I'll make a run down to the AM/PM.
ImmediateBoss F: Hey, buy me an ice cream bar while you're there.
Fantabulous Me: Mmmmm... mini mart snack food for lunch. I think I might make a trip later.

F has great taste. He wanted a Ben & Jerry's Phish Food ice cream bar. Mmmm... Phish Food. Because I voiced my love for the Phish Food, F offered to buy me one too. Yay! And because I voiced my want of a visit to the AM/PM mini mart, P said, 'wanna tag along?'

I tagged. And I drove. Because P's front seat was full of junk that would be a pain in the ass to move, or so he says. I offered to drive, because I keep all my junk neatly crammed in the back seat.

I drove us about 5 minutes down the street to the mini mart, which turned out to be all for not because they were out of the Phish Food. Damn it all to hell with a quick stop in Bumsville! They didn't even have F's back up ice cream so I said, 'Oh well.'

P was having none of that negativity so we searched for another freezer section. We found tubs of Ben & Jerry's and P went rifling through them, in search of the boss's ice cream flavor.

Me: But F said he didn't want the tub kind. Just the bar.
P: *rifle rifle rifle*

He was determined to kiss F's ass with a nice tub of Phish Food and wasn't going to hear anything from me that would undermine his mission. Nah, that's not it. He was just being nice. And ignoring my fact-stating self at the same time. F said several times "just the bar, not the tub." When P didn't find any Phish Food, bar or tub, we hopped into my car, then hopped onto the freeway and drove about 10 minutes or so to find a nearby super market. I didn't mind so much though. It was like going on a field trip! Wheeeee! (Yes, I'm easily amused.)

At Ralph's Grocery Store they had the right B&J's ice cream, but I felt weird making F buy me a tub of ice cream, even though it was one of those mini tubs. I wouldn't have minded a free 'about a dollar' ice cream bar, but anything else I would have felt obligated to buy myself. And I didn't want the Phish Food that bad. Close, but not quite. Instead of ice cream I picked up a yummy chicken salad sandwich from the deli section. P grabbed a sandwich and a soda and carried it with the ice cream to the check out counter. All that and a bag of chips. (Heh!) We decided to share a bag of Ruffles. Because they have ridges. Ridged for my tastebuds' pleasure.

By the time we got back to the office we were kind of late. Us peons only get a half hour for lunch and this ice cream mission took a little bit longer than that. I don't think anyone noticed though. And if they did, they didn't mind. Which kind of lessens the thrill of being a long-lunch taking rebel. Maybe I should take an extra long coffee break. And go sit out on the lawn in front of the building, basking in the sun, staring up at an almost smog-free baby blue sky, swapping rebel stories with the squirrels...

Anyway, in review:

Driving all over the place in search of ice cream: $1.79/gallon of gas
A yummy sandwich and Dr. Pepper for lunch: $5.48
Wasting an hour outside on such a beautiful day when I should be at work: priceless

Loony Tip O Da Day

1. Be careful to not "fall off stage at a band concert"

2. Beware of parking lots. You might "hit" something. Such as "a parked car"


These helpful tips were inspired by a recent post by Princess AJ. Love ya AJ!

I'm doing a good job at this 'getting back to work' ain't I? :)

don't feed the butongs in the cage my young pakwan learner

Yesterday, with the clock ticking down with just minutes to go to that magic time when I get to leave this wonderful job of mine place, Mr. BigBossMan called me into his office.

[Phone rings]
Me: [picks up phone instead of making quick dash to ladies room for alibi. 'honest boss! I was in the pisser!]
Me: Hello? Super Loon here. How may I service you?
BBM: Can you come to my office for minute?
Me: I could. But I don't want to. I'm busy sticking my finger up my nose. Bu-bye now.

Okay, so that wasn't the actual conversation that took place. He did call and ask me to come to his office and I answered with a chipper, 'Sure!'

He asked me to generate a few reports, blah blah blah, then mentioned he wanted to meet with me tomorrow to work on this project he has due soon. He said he wanted to work with me 'for a couple hours' and he'd be in here first thing. When he mentioned hours, as in plural, as in more than frelling one, I tried not to flinch. 'Keep a straight face. Keep a straight face. Don't show weakness!' That was a pretty good internal mantra but I don't think it worked. I'm sure I showed every 'ah hell!' thought going through my head. ::sigh::

I don't want to work with Mr. BigBossMan, side by side, for hours. The man gets on my nerves. And he's my boss so I can't just ignore him like I do some of the other people here who really bug me. Plus, I think he wants a run down of all the stuff I do. Which is hardly any thing. Well, okay, I do a lot of stuff - and some of its actually vital - but I do manage to have huge chunks of goof off time every now and then. Which is great, but I can't let him know that. I'm going to have to kick into bullshitting high gear and make myself appear highly important to the daily running of things. Damn it. Can't he just take my word for it?

I think I'll print out a bunch of fancy excel graphs and charts and spread them all over my desk. Well, not all over. Spread out in an orderly, neat, efficient manner. Yeah. That's the ticket.

It's been a couple hours and he's not in yet. It's like knowing you have some evasive dental surgery scheduled for the very end of the day. I'm going to go crazy in anticipation!

Hell, I'm already crazy. And Mr. BigBossMan will probably pop in for a second, give me a list of stuff to figure out for him, then leave. So it will be all good in the 'hood.

But for now, I will sit here eating a couple of 'Butong Pakwan' (which someone tells me is dried watermelon seeds directly brought over from the Philippines) and a guy try to wash the upstairs windows. The window right in front of me needs to be washed, but the problem with it its double paned, and water has gotten between the two slabs of window. And the water dried and spotted the whole damn window. So my beautiful view of the snow capped mountains and clear blue sky is marred by water spots. Grrrrrrr.


I guess I should get back to work. I'm feeling really creative right now, and feel the urge to write something. 'What', I don't know. But the urge is there. Maybe inspiration will come to me while I mindlessly print and sort and file and kill half a rain forest by using a whole ream of paper. You know, Friday work stuff.

And you know what? Right around the time I am both in the mood to write and am inspired with a great topic/one-liner/whatever that I just have to write down and exercise from my head like it's the little demon that could will be the time Mr. BigBossMan decides to stop by the office.


Okay. That was my last anyways. Seriously. I'm going to do some work. Yeah. That's right. No more goofing off. For at least a half hour. :) Then I think I'll go search for writing prompts. Anyone have any suggestions? Requests? Maybe I'll try the 50 word fiction thing again. Hey, speaking of 50 word fiction... check out Jodi's. It's fabu!


Wednesday, February 04, 2004

I <3 My Harry

I'm dating Harry Potter. No, I don't mean the real Harry Potter. I do know that he's fictional. Really I do! What I meant was this: the HB is Harry Potter.

Well... okay... so the HB doesn't have a lightening bolt scar on his forehead. And he doesn't know any magic spells or hippogriffs. And he isn't a pre-teen/teenage boy any more (though he does act like it sometimes.)

But the HB is currently sporting a pair of broken, taped up glasses. And for some reason I find that so damn cute.

One of the springs broke off the other day and disappeared. I think it went to live the rest of its life in a far away land with loose change and lonely, single socks. So since the spring is missing, the HB's got tape wound around the part of the frame that connects the side piece thingy (is there a more technical term than side piece thingy?) that hooks over the ear to the front/lens part. He doesn't have the time or money at the moment to get the frame replaced, so he'll be sporting the tape for a while.

Me: Hey. You look like Harry Potter now.
HB: *holds glasses out in front of him with left hand - points right index finger at the glasses like a wand*
HB: Oculus Reparo!
Both:*stares at glasses for a moment*
HB: Damn. It didn't work.
Me: Obviously not. But you get an A for effort.

It's a very good tape job - thin, neat, and hardly noticeable. But I'm sure he's deeply embarrassed by it no matter how unnoticeable the tape is. Maybe I can buy him a card to cheer him up a bit. Something that says, 'I find men with tape on their glasses extremely sexy!' I wonder if Hallmark has tapped into that market yet.

Oops! I'm Never Doing That Again!

What's On your "I'll Never Do That Again" list Right Now?

I will never again... try and step over the gas pump hose thingy while its connected to my car

I will never again... run on a wet swimming pool deck

I will never again... run up a flight of a stairs while carrying anything in my hands, especially a cup of ice

I will never again... pick a fight with my little bro, who is now at least a foot taller than me

I will never again... drink punch right before someone tells the punch line to a joke while wearing a white t-shirt

I will never again... undress anywhere near a locker room doorway

I will never again... attempt to watch the movie Glitter

I will never again... go out in public without wearing my nipple jewelry. You know, in case Justin Timberlake comes along and rips my clothes off. Hey, it could happen. And I plan on being prepared.

My Leaving Home Checklist
American Express card? Check.
Clean, hole-free undies? Check.
Sun nipple jewelry? Check.

This list will be updated periodically.

Tuesday, February 03, 2004

Ten On Tuesday

Ten Things You Wish You Knew How To Do

  1. win limbo contests
  2. speak multiple languages (Spanish, French, Sign, Klingon, Redneck...)
  3. fix my own car without getting price jacked
  4. shoot fire balls from my finger tips
  5. speed read
  6. talk to animals
  7. teleport
  8. write/draw well enough to make a career out of it
  9. surf like Dee Dee...
  10. and dance like Candy :)

Tuesday is Chooseday

tuesday is chooseday

Would you rather...

1. find out from your significant other that he/she is cheating on you by: you walking in on them OR he/she telling you about it?

I'd rather my significant other tell me about it. I really don't want to see it. Though if I did walk in on them, I'd be justified in beating the living shit out of him. So that's a plus for the 'walking in on them' column.

2. take a 20% pay cut at work OR get a promotion and a 20% pay increase, but your first new task is to fire three of your co-workers?

I'd rather get the pay increase. I can barely afford food, shelter and the occasional hooker on my current salary. I couldn't afford a 20% pay cut!!! So I'd take the promotion, and the pay increase, then fire my officemates. See ya! Wouldn't wanna be ya!

3. be responsible for a car accident that causes your best friend to become paralyzed OR be involved in a sex scandal with a famous politician?

I would rather be involved in a political sex scandal. I'd never want one of my friends to become paralyzed, especially because of my own bad driving skills. So I'd make the sacrifice for their well-being and do the dirty with a famous politician. I will suffer through the sex scandal and everything. Then, I will sell the rights to my side of the story to the Made For TV Movie people. I will also cash in a book deal. So yeah, I'd rather be involved in the sex scandal. :)

4. when you lie to someone: drool uncontrollably OR burp loudly?

I would rather drool uncontrollably. Burping loudly would be rude. And would call a lot of attention to myself. Drooling is silent and therefore will cause less staring, in case I'm out in public while spreading around my lies. If I'm in doors, the only person I have to worry about is the person I'm lying to. So when I tell a friend that no, their favorite outfit doesn't make them look like a rooster on acid, I'd rather deal with a little drool.

Monday, February 02, 2004

i'm tiny, i'm toony, i'm all a little loony

It looks as though you're just a little Fudged in the Head
What Type of Lunatic are You? brought to you by Quizilla

"Some people may call you weird or strange." This is true. I once had a doctor call me weird. He was an orthopedic doctor commenting on a bone or something, not a crazies doctor commenting on the fudginess of my head, but still, I think his assessment pretty much makes it official. Not that I got a fancy official certificate out of the visit or anything. Darn it. That would have been cool!

Which Cary Grant Character Are You?

I love Cary Grant in Arsenic and Old Lace. Mortimer (Oh Mortimer!) may be wacky and zany, but he's not insane. Especially when compared to his family (Charge!). If I ever find the skeletons in my family's closet, or the dead bodies hidden in the window seat, I hope I can hold it together as well as better than Mortimer does. :)

Unconscious Mutterings

I say ... and you think ... ?

  1. Ignore:: ignore the mess. please.
  2. Death:: Becomes Her
  3. Missy:: Ranger Camp and the Ultimate Package
  4. Ballet:: hippo in a tutu
  5. Guest:: David
  6. Campus:: midnight mischief making
  7. Lonely:: only
  8. Company:: 3's
  9. Helicopter:: helicopter over my head / I pick a color and the color is red!
  10. Sterile:: clean