Here's a quick overview of my (tentative) vacation itinerary, in case anyone was curious...
(Because I'm too excited thinking about it to do anything productive. At least for the moment.)
Wednesday :
Wake up at 4 o-effing-clock. The HB is driving me to the airport, so if both alarms don't wake me up, he will. Flight leaves at 6am. I was all about The Cheap and not Convenience when I booked my flight. Hopefully this won't come back to bite me in the still-half-asleep ass.
After a brief stopover in Denver, arrive in Texas a little after 1pm. Get picked up by mom and aunt J. Drive for about an hour to the lake.
Relax, eat dinner with family, play cards or games or some form of entertainment of family get together tradition. Sleep - in an RV. Haven't done that in awhile. (Note to self: pack parent approved pj's.)
Thursday :
Read a book
Sip margarita's (I heard auntie J is bragging about a new recipe for us to try)
Sit out on the deck and fish (which, according to my mom, is best done while reading and sipping margarita's)
Write stories and dear diary entries about vacation so far
Hang out and gossip with family
Relax
Friday :
Same as Thursday for the first half of the day. At night, my texas aunt and uncle are throwing a bbq rehearsal dinner at their place. Whether this is at the lake house or their place in town I have no idea. All I know is that I'll be in texas. Yeah!
I just plum love going to new places.
Saturday :
In the morning - I've been invited to a bridal shower of sorts. Of sorts = no presents.
(Awe crap. I just remembered I haven't bought a wedding present yet. D'oh! My wedding present was just going to be a gift certificate to Target (one of the places they've registered at) but still, I can't believe I forgot. I was just there this weekend! Now I've got another errand I have to run before I can go home and pack. Grrr.)
So, a bridal brunch for all the girls. (Note to self: pack something nice to wear for girly get together). This will be the first time I meet my cousin's fiance. (And yes Zoink, I've already forgotten her name. D'oh! I think there's an S somewhere near the middle...)
At night - the wedding. Outdoors. At 6:00 pm.
I'm trying to figure out how to install a mister and fan system in my bra because I'm sure it will be hot. I think I heard that rain is forecasted, which would suck because I'm totally not packing for rain, but with my luck it will be hotter than the devil's ass when I'm there. Bleagh. That means I'll be sweating up a rather unattractive storm. Double bleagh. Though I guess that would be better than rain during an outdoor wedding.
Sunday :
I was going to fly back home this day, but the Texas uncle and aunt are having a fish fry. I can't very well leave before then, now can I? Of course not.
Monday :
Fly home in the evening. I think my flight from Texas leaves at 6 PM. I wanted to leave a lot earlier than that, but again, I was just following the Path of Cheapness.
I have a layover for two friggin hours in Denver but at least that gives me a little time to souvenir shop, as there won't be much time for that before then. Unless I get dropped off early at the texas airport.
I'm scheduled to arrive home a little before 11pm. Thankfully I only live about 15 (20 minutes at the most) from the airport. Hopefully I'll be asleep before midnight.
Dude, its going to so SUCK waking up Tuesday and going back to work. Bleagh. Maybe I should ask for another day off. Does jet lag qualify as something you can call in sick for and not get in trouble over? Not that I'm going to wuss out and call in sick or anything. Just might be handy information to store for later.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
WARNING: This blog will be update free for a couple of days
Sad news, I know. But I'm sure my faithful readers (All what? Three of you? 
) will ban together and comfort one another in these desperate times ahead.
:)
I don't know if I've mentioned this before (maybe I have briefly, cryptically) but I'm going on vacation tomorrow. Yay! And I'm going to Texas for the first time. Yay! And I'll be flying by myself for the first time. Eek! I'm a big girl. I can handle it. I can handle it with style, as only I can. But still... its making me just a little nervous. I wish the HB was coming with me, but he's already used up the vacation days he accrued for his first six months on the job. So bummer that. :(
But that just means I get to play Girl Adventurer! Navigating the Big Scary Obstacle Course that is The Airport.
I know that once I get to the airport it won't be that bad. I've watched Airline enough to know what to do (don't consume alcohol like it's a security blanket, check in EARLY, don't check in luggage if possible). If worse comes to worse, and I get lost and/or miss my flight and/or say something to piss off the security guys, I'll just pin a note to myself that says, 'If lost please return to:'
The reason I'm going to Texas? A cousin of mine is getting married on Saturday. The reason I'm leaving tomorrow and coming back on Monday? My parents and two sets of aunts and uncles are all camping out in RV's at another aunt and uncle's lake house a week before and a week after the wedding. My mom really wanted me to come out early and hang out with her and the rest of the family. Actually, she wanted both me and the HB to come, and talked it up so much that the HB was really looking forward to coming. But now he can't make it. Darn it!
But I can. And I'm so friggin excited about it!!! Last time my parents vacationed at the lake house they wouldn't shut up about how nice it is out there and how much fun it is and yadda yadda yadda. So now its my turn dammit! Yeah! And I get to see my aunt and uncle from florida, who I haven't seen in months! And I get to see my aunt and uncle and cousin from texas, and a bunch of other relatives from texas, who I haven't seen in years!!!
I can't want until I get home today so I can start packing. I've wanted to start packing for at least the last week or so, but felt that would be a rather silly thing to do. So I refrained. And started making a Things To Pack list instead because I keep thinking of things I need to remember to bring and I'm afraid I'll forget to pack it otherwise. Last few times I've packed a suitcase I haven't forgotten anything, yet every single time I pack I have that disco-dancing-butterfly-in-the-tummy feeling that I'm forgetting something vital. Like underwear. I hate that nagging feeling. But as long as I remember to pack my wedding outfit I'm set. All other necessities can be borrowed or bought when I get there.
So I'll be gone for... wow, six days... and I doubt I'll have internet access until I come back to work next Tuesday, hence the lack of updates. Well, I'll have access Monday night when I get back, but I'm getting back around 11 at night. I doubt there will be enough brain functionality to type up anything even remotely semi interesting. I might have access at the lake house, but I'm not counting on it.
To fill up my time since I won't be able to compulsively check my emails or read blogs or surf around aimlessly like I usually do at work, I'll be reading a lot of books. I plan to pack a few books that I purchased years ago that I haven't gotten around to reading yet because I keep buying/borrowing new ones. Or better yet, I'll bring only books mom has loaned me. That way I can leave them in her RV when I'm done. Make the suitcase a bit lighter.
I also plan to do a lot of writing while I'm out there. I won't have a laptop with me, which would be super cool, so I'll be doing it old school, which I kind of prefer anyways. Plus, I've got a super cool new notepad I need to break in, as well as some spiffy new pens. So that's something I'm looking forward to doing.
Also on the list of things to do this vacation: Relax. Eat lots of good RV/home cooked meals. Party with family (they're a fun and rowdy bunch, especially when the wine starts flowing). Get all gussied up for a wedding. Relax. Eat. Have fun. Fly back home in one piece.
I can't wait! Can't wait! Can'twaitcan'twaitcan'twait!!!
) will ban together and comfort one another in these desperate times ahead.:)
I don't know if I've mentioned this before (maybe I have briefly, cryptically) but I'm going on vacation tomorrow. Yay! And I'm going to Texas for the first time. Yay! And I'll be flying by myself for the first time. Eek! I'm a big girl. I can handle it. I can handle it with style, as only I can. But still... its making me just a little nervous. I wish the HB was coming with me, but he's already used up the vacation days he accrued for his first six months on the job. So bummer that. :(
But that just means I get to play Girl Adventurer! Navigating the Big Scary Obstacle Course that is The Airport.
I know that once I get to the airport it won't be that bad. I've watched Airline enough to know what to do (don't consume alcohol like it's a security blanket, check in EARLY, don't check in luggage if possible). If worse comes to worse, and I get lost and/or miss my flight and/or say something to piss off the security guys, I'll just pin a note to myself that says, 'If lost please return to:'
The reason I'm going to Texas? A cousin of mine is getting married on Saturday. The reason I'm leaving tomorrow and coming back on Monday? My parents and two sets of aunts and uncles are all camping out in RV's at another aunt and uncle's lake house a week before and a week after the wedding. My mom really wanted me to come out early and hang out with her and the rest of the family. Actually, she wanted both me and the HB to come, and talked it up so much that the HB was really looking forward to coming. But now he can't make it. Darn it!
But I can. And I'm so friggin excited about it!!! Last time my parents vacationed at the lake house they wouldn't shut up about how nice it is out there and how much fun it is and yadda yadda yadda. So now its my turn dammit! Yeah! And I get to see my aunt and uncle from florida, who I haven't seen in months! And I get to see my aunt and uncle and cousin from texas, and a bunch of other relatives from texas, who I haven't seen in years!!!
I can't want until I get home today so I can start packing. I've wanted to start packing for at least the last week or so, but felt that would be a rather silly thing to do. So I refrained. And started making a Things To Pack list instead because I keep thinking of things I need to remember to bring and I'm afraid I'll forget to pack it otherwise. Last few times I've packed a suitcase I haven't forgotten anything, yet every single time I pack I have that disco-dancing-butterfly-in-the-tummy feeling that I'm forgetting something vital. Like underwear. I hate that nagging feeling. But as long as I remember to pack my wedding outfit I'm set. All other necessities can be borrowed or bought when I get there.
So I'll be gone for... wow, six days... and I doubt I'll have internet access until I come back to work next Tuesday, hence the lack of updates. Well, I'll have access Monday night when I get back, but I'm getting back around 11 at night. I doubt there will be enough brain functionality to type up anything even remotely semi interesting. I might have access at the lake house, but I'm not counting on it.
To fill up my time since I won't be able to compulsively check my emails or read blogs or surf around aimlessly like I usually do at work, I'll be reading a lot of books. I plan to pack a few books that I purchased years ago that I haven't gotten around to reading yet because I keep buying/borrowing new ones. Or better yet, I'll bring only books mom has loaned me. That way I can leave them in her RV when I'm done. Make the suitcase a bit lighter.
I also plan to do a lot of writing while I'm out there. I won't have a laptop with me, which would be super cool, so I'll be doing it old school, which I kind of prefer anyways. Plus, I've got a super cool new notepad I need to break in, as well as some spiffy new pens. So that's something I'm looking forward to doing.
Also on the list of things to do this vacation: Relax. Eat lots of good RV/home cooked meals. Party with family (they're a fun and rowdy bunch, especially when the wine starts flowing). Get all gussied up for a wedding. Relax. Eat. Have fun. Fly back home in one piece.
I can't wait! Can't wait! Can'twaitcan'twaitcan'twait!!!
Tuesday is Chooseday!
Would you rather...
1. find naked pictures of you on the internet OR naked pictures of one of your parents?
Naked parent picture. I think I could block the memory of a naked parent picture better than I could block the knowledge that there are what can only be highly unflattering naked pictures of me floating around the internet. Pictures that I could never get back and destroy.
Plus, naked internet pictures of moi will not help me in my bid for Intergalactic Dictator.
2. sneeze every hour on the hour OR squawk like a chicken whenever anybody says "chicken"?
Sneeze sneeze sneeze! I love to sneeze!
Though the squawking like a chicken thing could be fun. Maybe. If I knew what a squawking chicken sounded like. Because, I mean, if I'm going to impersonate one, I want to do it right. Not that it matters any, because I'll be sneezing instead. Achooooooooo!
3. be locked inside a car trunk for an hour OR strapped to the top of a 30 story building for an hour?
Um... locked inside a car trunk. That way, next time I read a book (Club Dead) or watch a movie (Sneakers, Out of Sight) where this happens I'll be able to identify with the character more. Plus, I could reenact my whole Locked In A Trunk With Only A Crowbar Named Mr. Clooney To Keep Me Company fantasy. Yeah, sounds like good times.
Plus, the other option, the one about being strapped to the top of a really tall building? Not so much fun. Especially if it requires being strapped to the side of the very top of the building. Because I think there'd be a strong possibility of peeing on one's self in that condition. I.E. - not so much fun.
4. everything sweet tasted like listerine OR everything rotten tasted like chocolate fudge?
Everything sweet tasted like Listerine. I don't want to eat rotten things, and if they taste like fudge it'll be too tempting. And too confusing. Plus, if sweet things tasted as nasty as Listerine I wouldn't want to eat them any more. And that would be a good thing.
1. find naked pictures of you on the internet OR naked pictures of one of your parents?
Naked parent picture. I think I could block the memory of a naked parent picture better than I could block the knowledge that there are what can only be highly unflattering naked pictures of me floating around the internet. Pictures that I could never get back and destroy.
Plus, naked internet pictures of moi will not help me in my bid for Intergalactic Dictator.
2. sneeze every hour on the hour OR squawk like a chicken whenever anybody says "chicken"?
Sneeze sneeze sneeze! I love to sneeze!
Though the squawking like a chicken thing could be fun. Maybe. If I knew what a squawking chicken sounded like. Because, I mean, if I'm going to impersonate one, I want to do it right. Not that it matters any, because I'll be sneezing instead. Achooooooooo!
3. be locked inside a car trunk for an hour OR strapped to the top of a 30 story building for an hour?
Um... locked inside a car trunk. That way, next time I read a book (Club Dead) or watch a movie (Sneakers, Out of Sight) where this happens I'll be able to identify with the character more. Plus, I could reenact my whole Locked In A Trunk With Only A Crowbar Named Mr. Clooney To Keep Me Company fantasy. Yeah, sounds like good times.
Plus, the other option, the one about being strapped to the top of a really tall building? Not so much fun. Especially if it requires being strapped to the side of the very top of the building. Because I think there'd be a strong possibility of peeing on one's self in that condition. I.E. - not so much fun.
4. everything sweet tasted like listerine OR everything rotten tasted like chocolate fudge?
Everything sweet tasted like Listerine. I don't want to eat rotten things, and if they taste like fudge it'll be too tempting. And too confusing. Plus, if sweet things tasted as nasty as Listerine I wouldn't want to eat them any more. And that would be a good thing.
Friday, May 27, 2005
My Coffee (Not-Quite-Yet-An-)Addiction Confession
I'm kind of worried about my recent coffee consumption. I used to hate coffee, and rightly so, because it can be some down right nasty shit sometimes (like when someone uses up all the sugar and creamer - greedy bastards!). There was a time when I wouldn't have been caught dead anywhere near a coffee bean, even the chocolate covered ones. But that was then, when I was young and naive about the ways of the world.
I soon got older and discovered fancy coffee concoctions and thought, 'hey, this stuff isn't that bad.' Especially iced mochas. *major droolage*
But I never wanted to be one of those people that needed coffee to help them wake up in the morning. It was like some sort of scary addictive drug, that morning cup of coffee. I'd heard the horror stories of coffee-less mornings from strung out coffee addicts. I'd seen my mom grumble wearily when the mr. coffee forgot to do its thing. I never wanted to rely on, to need something that badly in order to wake up in the morning. But then again, that was when I was young and oh so naive about the wondrous power of this drug we call caffeine.
I haven't progressed to that stage yet. I don't need a cup of coffee when I first wake up. I don't even want coffee when I first wake up in the morning. But when I get to work... now that's a different beast all together. I started drinking coffee, the non-fancy Starbucks-type of coffee, here at work. Right around the time when everyone was running around like nearly headless chickens after botched hatchet jobs - otherwise known as The Great Big Scary Corporate Audit. Back then, a cup of sweet sugary coffee sure was nice in the last couple hours of the day. That's when I drank it, in the afternoon. Not in the morning.
But now, now I drink it in the morning. Maybe its just a great way to procrastinate. Clock in. Turn on computer. Go to the bathroom. Check teeth for unflattering bits of food even though they were brushed clean a half hour ago. Say good morning to the soda vending machine. Fix a cup of coffee with a little sugar and lots of powdered creamer (I like my coffee like I like my men - light brown. Heh.)
And as I doctor the coffee I think to myself, 'why am I drinking this? It doesn't even taste all that great. It doesn't make me hyper. I'd better not have any tomorrow, just so's I don't get addicted or anything.'
When tomorrow comes, I'm already fixing myself a cup of coffee before I remember I wasn't going to have any. D'oh! Lately, I have cut back a little bit on the coffee consumption. I only drink it about 3 or 4 mornings a week. Heh. It's just that it tastes so good with the morning pastry!
There is something, a saving grace of sorts, that I know I can rely on to not get too hooked. Hooked to the point where I need a hit of coffee the minute I wake up. And that saving grace is my laziness. I can't be bothered with all the work that goes into making coffee, and I doubt I ever will. Filters and scoops and water and measuring and blah blah blah. Phooey to that my friends! Phooey. To. THAT!
I soon got older and discovered fancy coffee concoctions and thought, 'hey, this stuff isn't that bad.' Especially iced mochas. *major droolage*
But I never wanted to be one of those people that needed coffee to help them wake up in the morning. It was like some sort of scary addictive drug, that morning cup of coffee. I'd heard the horror stories of coffee-less mornings from strung out coffee addicts. I'd seen my mom grumble wearily when the mr. coffee forgot to do its thing. I never wanted to rely on, to need something that badly in order to wake up in the morning. But then again, that was when I was young and oh so naive about the wondrous power of this drug we call caffeine.
I haven't progressed to that stage yet. I don't need a cup of coffee when I first wake up. I don't even want coffee when I first wake up in the morning. But when I get to work... now that's a different beast all together. I started drinking coffee, the non-fancy Starbucks-type of coffee, here at work. Right around the time when everyone was running around like nearly headless chickens after botched hatchet jobs - otherwise known as The Great Big Scary Corporate Audit. Back then, a cup of sweet sugary coffee sure was nice in the last couple hours of the day. That's when I drank it, in the afternoon. Not in the morning.
But now, now I drink it in the morning. Maybe its just a great way to procrastinate. Clock in. Turn on computer. Go to the bathroom. Check teeth for unflattering bits of food even though they were brushed clean a half hour ago. Say good morning to the soda vending machine. Fix a cup of coffee with a little sugar and lots of powdered creamer (I like my coffee like I like my men - light brown. Heh.)
And as I doctor the coffee I think to myself, 'why am I drinking this? It doesn't even taste all that great. It doesn't make me hyper. I'd better not have any tomorrow, just so's I don't get addicted or anything.'
When tomorrow comes, I'm already fixing myself a cup of coffee before I remember I wasn't going to have any. D'oh! Lately, I have cut back a little bit on the coffee consumption. I only drink it about 3 or 4 mornings a week. Heh. It's just that it tastes so good with the morning pastry!
There is something, a saving grace of sorts, that I know I can rely on to not get too hooked. Hooked to the point where I need a hit of coffee the minute I wake up. And that saving grace is my laziness. I can't be bothered with all the work that goes into making coffee, and I doubt I ever will. Filters and scoops and water and measuring and blah blah blah. Phooey to that my friends! Phooey. To. THAT!
50 Word Fiction Friday
The Promise
Just one more. That's all. Just one. What could it hurt? Just one more, I promise, then I'll stop. I can stop, you know. And I will stop. Right after this last one. I'll take just one more internet personality quiz and then I'll get back to work. Scout's honor!
What's this? A second 50 Word Fiction story? Why yes, yes it is! No, please, really, no need to thank me.
Imaginary ego?
The Craving
She wanted it. She needed it. To feel the warmth, the caress, deep inside her. There was no better way to wake up in the morning. So if she didn't get her venti mochaccino soon she was going to rip that freakishly chipper smile right off the Starbucks worker's face.
The Theme: this week it's addiction.
The Inspiration: well, these aren't personal addictions or anything. I just, uh... enjoy these things. A lot. So I can understand how they may be addictive to some people. But I don't have a problem. I don't. Honest. And nay, this lady doth not protesteth too mucheth.
Now French fries, that's a true addiction. And god bless Coworker Zack, he just brought me the almost-full bag of french fries from his Farmer Boys lunch. They are a bit cold, but still... they're french fries!!!
Just one more. That's all. Just one. What could it hurt? Just one more, I promise, then I'll stop. I can stop, you know. And I will stop. Right after this last one. I'll take just one more internet personality quiz and then I'll get back to work. Scout's honor!
What's this? A second 50 Word Fiction story? Why yes, yes it is! No, please, really, no need to thank me.
Imaginary ego?
The Craving
She wanted it. She needed it. To feel the warmth, the caress, deep inside her. There was no better way to wake up in the morning. So if she didn't get her venti mochaccino soon she was going to rip that freakishly chipper smile right off the Starbucks worker's face.
The Theme: this week it's addiction.
The Inspiration: well, these aren't personal addictions or anything. I just, uh... enjoy these things. A lot. So I can understand how they may be addictive to some people. But I don't have a problem. I don't. Honest. And nay, this lady doth not protesteth too mucheth.
Now French fries, that's a true addiction. And god bless Coworker Zack, he just brought me the almost-full bag of french fries from his Farmer Boys lunch. They are a bit cold, but still... they're french fries!!!
Thursday, May 26, 2005
A Boredom Sandwich
Boredom...
Brainy Ogres Read Enigmatic Dictations Of Monkeys.
Madonna Only Nibbles Kelp Egg Yogurt Snacks.
Soft Noodles Are Crafters Kryptonite, Silly!
Stupidly I Live Like Yoda.
Yodel Offensively During Arias.
Arrogant Raisins Invade Army Snack.
Soup Nazi Attacked Cracker Kingdom.
Keyboard Instructor Never Groped Dentist Or Model.
Monsoons Outside Detour Energetic Llama.
Lopsided Lovemaking Always Mimics Arc.
Always Rally, Caleb.
Chesty Alphabet Letters Emulate B.
... Boredom
(I guess I'm hungry. I mentioned snacks twice. Heh.)
Brainy Ogres Read Enigmatic Dictations Of Monkeys.
Madonna Only Nibbles Kelp Egg Yogurt Snacks.
Soft Noodles Are Crafters Kryptonite, Silly!
Stupidly I Live Like Yoda.
Yodel Offensively During Arias.
Arrogant Raisins Invade Army Snack.
Soup Nazi Attacked Cracker Kingdom.
Keyboard Instructor Never Groped Dentist Or Model.
Monsoons Outside Detour Energetic Llama.
Lopsided Lovemaking Always Mimics Arc.
Always Rally, Caleb.
Chesty Alphabet Letters Emulate B.
... Boredom
(I guess I'm hungry. I mentioned snacks twice. Heh.)
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
You don't need endless supplies of avocados to goof around and do squat.
I called my mom last night to ask her a couple of things, and, as so often happens here in the Land of Forgetfulness, I immediately forgot all three questions as soon as the phone was answered. But it was my dad who answered the phone so I chatted with him a bit and didn't have to worry about what I'd so inconveniently forgotten.
Last weekend my dad was up in Santa Cruz with a brother-in-law and there was apparently some sort of music video being filmed at their hotel. My dad asked me if I watch a lot of music videos because he wants me to play lookout for him. Occasionally, in the morning as I'm getting ready for work, I'll change the channel from the news to MTV or MTV2 or VH1. So I see some videos. But I don't have TRL in a tivo wishlist or anything so I wouldn't say I see a lot of videos. Sorry daddy-o.
My dad starts telling me about this music video anyways. Or whatever it is. He wasn't quite sure what was going on. It could have been a big blockbuster movie or a student film or whatever. But he did know that the 'video' is about a black guy dressed up as a bellhop who likes to sing in the elevator.
So please, if you ever see this video, or movie, or whatnot, let me know. I promised my dad I'd keep an eye out for it. :)
That's all the information he could give me: black guy, bellhop, elevator. He doesn't know who the singer was, but that doesn't mean anything. The guy could have been the biggest super star on the planet and my dad might have recognized him, but wouldn't have known his name. He's not really into music and pop culture stuff. But he said it was really fun to watch these guys running back and forth along the balcony.
And, as my dad is telling me all this, I can hear my mom yelling in the background, "Who would she want it to be?" or something like that. She yells this several times, but my dad isn't playing along and keeps talking with me. When he finally hands the phone over to my mom she says, "Who would you want it to be next to you in the elevator?" I tried to think of a black male singer and my first thought was that Kayne West guy, but I couldn't think of his name, so I tried to think of another guy. Poof! The mind pulls up a picture of Luther Vandross. An old guy. Blah. I try and think of another guy and poof! I think of Lionel Ritchie. Another old guy. Blah blah blah. My mom's first thought? Usher. Why she's thinking of the young hot studs and I'm not I have no idea. But that's just wrong! It should be the other way around! I blame it on whatever caused my temporary memory loss.
I could practically hear my mom drooling over the phone when she said the name Usher. "Wouldn't you like to be in an elevator with him?"
"Not really."
"No??? He's hot."
"Eh." (I'll admit he's hot but he doesn't exactly get my boat a floatin')
"I'd especially want to be near those abs. *drool sound* Wouldn't you?"
"Eh, not so much. They're a bit too much for me."
There were a few more moments of my mom waxing poetically about the beauty and perfection that is Usher's stomach muscles. Then we got down to the reason for my call. My questions.
"Uh... I was going to ask you three questions. Now I can't remember them."
She laughes. And it's a laugh that says, 'been there, done that, and it only goes down hill from here you poor, young, thing you.'
Then the questions started coming back to me, one by one. In case you are wondering (as I know you all must be) here are the answers:
No, I don't need to figure out how to bring a sweater to texas with me in case it gets cold. My mom is packing an extra one I can steal if I need it. Not that I'll be needing one, its going to be so friggin' hot there next week (next week! heeee!) but it never hurts to be prepared.
And sure, mom can record the season finale of Lost for me, but she might forget to not delete it when she's done watching it. "Can't you watch it?" she asks me. "I plan to, but what if the apartment catches on fire? What if the FBI arrest me by mistake because they think I'm Kiki the Evil Mastermind of a drug smuggling ring and the tivo doesn't work? I'm just covering my bases." "Oh, okay. I'll see what I can do."
The third question wasn't anything important. I just was wondering who my mom was going to spend her hard earned cash on when she votes for the next American Idol. It's Carrie, who she's been in love with since day one. That's the chick's name right? Who ever isn't Bo, that's who she's voting for.
I almost want to start watching American Idol so I don't feel so left out when I'm in a room of people who absolutely salivate when the topic of Idol gets started. But then I think about the last few times I've attempted to watch the show and I cringe. I just can't do it. I can only handle that show in five minute increments. Which is why the fast forward button is a mah-velous invention.
Anywhoo... time to goof around and do squat elsewhere. :)
(Post title once again courtesy of, of course, The Dr. Phil Random Quote Generator )
Last weekend my dad was up in Santa Cruz with a brother-in-law and there was apparently some sort of music video being filmed at their hotel. My dad asked me if I watch a lot of music videos because he wants me to play lookout for him. Occasionally, in the morning as I'm getting ready for work, I'll change the channel from the news to MTV or MTV2 or VH1. So I see some videos. But I don't have TRL in a tivo wishlist or anything so I wouldn't say I see a lot of videos. Sorry daddy-o.
My dad starts telling me about this music video anyways. Or whatever it is. He wasn't quite sure what was going on. It could have been a big blockbuster movie or a student film or whatever. But he did know that the 'video' is about a black guy dressed up as a bellhop who likes to sing in the elevator.
So please, if you ever see this video, or movie, or whatnot, let me know. I promised my dad I'd keep an eye out for it. :)
That's all the information he could give me: black guy, bellhop, elevator. He doesn't know who the singer was, but that doesn't mean anything. The guy could have been the biggest super star on the planet and my dad might have recognized him, but wouldn't have known his name. He's not really into music and pop culture stuff. But he said it was really fun to watch these guys running back and forth along the balcony.
And, as my dad is telling me all this, I can hear my mom yelling in the background, "Who would she want it to be?" or something like that. She yells this several times, but my dad isn't playing along and keeps talking with me. When he finally hands the phone over to my mom she says, "Who would you want it to be next to you in the elevator?" I tried to think of a black male singer and my first thought was that Kayne West guy, but I couldn't think of his name, so I tried to think of another guy. Poof! The mind pulls up a picture of Luther Vandross. An old guy. Blah. I try and think of another guy and poof! I think of Lionel Ritchie. Another old guy. Blah blah blah. My mom's first thought? Usher. Why she's thinking of the young hot studs and I'm not I have no idea. But that's just wrong! It should be the other way around! I blame it on whatever caused my temporary memory loss.
I could practically hear my mom drooling over the phone when she said the name Usher. "Wouldn't you like to be in an elevator with him?"
"Not really."
"No??? He's hot."
"Eh." (I'll admit he's hot but he doesn't exactly get my boat a floatin')
"I'd especially want to be near those abs. *drool sound* Wouldn't you?"
"Eh, not so much. They're a bit too much for me."
There were a few more moments of my mom waxing poetically about the beauty and perfection that is Usher's stomach muscles. Then we got down to the reason for my call. My questions.
"Uh... I was going to ask you three questions. Now I can't remember them."
She laughes. And it's a laugh that says, 'been there, done that, and it only goes down hill from here you poor, young, thing you.'
Then the questions started coming back to me, one by one. In case you are wondering (as I know you all must be) here are the answers:
No, I don't need to figure out how to bring a sweater to texas with me in case it gets cold. My mom is packing an extra one I can steal if I need it. Not that I'll be needing one, its going to be so friggin' hot there next week (next week! heeee!) but it never hurts to be prepared.
And sure, mom can record the season finale of Lost for me, but she might forget to not delete it when she's done watching it. "Can't you watch it?" she asks me. "I plan to, but what if the apartment catches on fire? What if the FBI arrest me by mistake because they think I'm Kiki the Evil Mastermind of a drug smuggling ring and the tivo doesn't work? I'm just covering my bases." "Oh, okay. I'll see what I can do."
The third question wasn't anything important. I just was wondering who my mom was going to spend her hard earned cash on when she votes for the next American Idol. It's Carrie, who she's been in love with since day one. That's the chick's name right? Who ever isn't Bo, that's who she's voting for.
I almost want to start watching American Idol so I don't feel so left out when I'm in a room of people who absolutely salivate when the topic of Idol gets started. But then I think about the last few times I've attempted to watch the show and I cringe. I just can't do it. I can only handle that show in five minute increments. Which is why the fast forward button is a mah-velous invention.
Anywhoo... time to goof around and do squat elsewhere. :)
(Post title once again courtesy of, of course, The Dr. Phil Random Quote Generator )
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