Okay, let's see how many items I can cram into this post because I really do need to get back to work. While writing and reminiscing can be fun, its highly distracting, and I need to remember that I get paid to do crap work, not to write and reminisce. Sigh. Wouldn't that be the life? Anyways, I'd better go remind myself of that thing I need to remind myself about... right after this brief interlude of course...
I'm doing these all out of order, I know. Oh well.
7. I competed in a talent show in elementary school. A friend and I lip synched to Stop In The Name Of Love.
I was in the second grade. The friend's mom was my babysitter, so we had a lot of time to practice our choreography, which we came up with it all by ourselves thank you very much. This fact was probably painfully evident when we did the universal 'stop' hand signal when Dianna yells 'Stop!' and tapped our temples when Dianna says to 'think it oh-woah-ver'. That, I'm afraid, is the highlight of our 'dance' moves.
But we had actual beehive hairdos! And my babysitter was into making clothes, so she made us really rocking 'And The Supremes' dresses! And we wore makeup! And plastic bead necklaces tied in a knot!
And we still lost. Stupid sucky judges.
9. I used to spend the class period thinking dirty little thoughts about my summer school government teacher. He was hot, in a political dork kind of way.
Okay, here's the thing: I was a teenager. And I had a highly productive, active imagination (though, truthfully, with a lack of experience to work off of, but that never stopped me). And he was cute in a geeky, glass wearing, completely shaved head kind of way. What can I say, I have a thing for bald men. Not all bald men, mind you. But some bald men? Rowr! Sexy! I wouldn't call my summer school teacher sexy by any means. But cute. Definitely cute. Even when he talked about confronting the lady in Taco Bell who was sadly misinformed about some aspect of our government and he felt compelled to pull out his pocket sized copy of the bill of rights/constitution that he always carried in his back pocket in case of emergencies and set her straight.
Hey, stop looking at me that way. Sheesh. Didn't you read the part about me being a teenager at the time? I wasn't in my right mind, okay?
Not that I don't find bald men sexy any more. I still do. Sometimes. Patrick Stewart? ROWR!
10. My first car was a dodge lancer. Envy me now!
Boy was that a piece of shit car. Favorite song to play while driving in the car? Adam Sandler's ode to his piece of shit car. The air conditioner never worked for too long (causing me to affectionately refer to it as my easy bake oven) and the paint job was rusting away in splotches. Spiffy!
It wasn't all bad, since it did manage to get me from Point A to Point B without ever breaking down. But at least the interior wasn't smurf blue like my current car. It was entirely magenta!
I'm just glad I didn't feel the need to impress people with my car.
Thursday, June 30, 2005
Truths behind the Truths Part II: The Spike Saga
So on to little stories/explanations about the bits that were true from Tuesday's post.
Yano guessed that I was lying about my one-eyed hamster and my two birthmarks. She was wrong on both counts, yet at the same time, both were wonderfully good guesses. One super gooey E-For-Excellent-Effort brownie point* for Yano!
Wait, you say? A one-eyed hamster? Really?
Unfortunately for the hamster, yes.
But first, some not-so-interesting information about the birthmarks (because I'm a tease like that.)
5. I have two birthmarks.
I have one on my right shin and another on my lower back. When I was a baby I used to have another one above my eye, and my mom swears she can still see it when I get really sick and pasty, but I've looked in the mirror and there's absolutely nothing there. Silly mommy. :)
8. I used to be the not-so-proud owner of a one eyed hamster.
I didn't buy him with one eye. He poked it out himself by accident (unless he had self-mutilating issues I was unaware of) about a year after we got him.
My first ever hamster, Ralph, was a gift from The HB. Why he gave me a fucking hamster I have no idea. He had a bunch of hamsters/guinea pigs when he was a kid so I think he thought it'd be cute to give his girlfriend one. Whatever. The little fucker bit me the first day I had him and we never really got along well afterwards (we as in me and the evil hamster, not we as in me and the boyfriend).
About a year later me and the boyfriend moved in together and as a symbol of the everlasting love we shared for one another we bought another hamster. Actually, its more like the HB really wanted another pet to play with and I got suckered into tagging along to the pet store. I just couldn't sayare you fucking crazy no to him with all that little-boy joy radiating from every pore at the thought of getting another hamster. (But I could now after being together for several years, let me tell ya! Well, except there was that whole 'I wanna motorcycle' incident so... maybe not so much. Cute little boy joy from the HB is my kryptonite it seems.) Besides, the hamster was like our child, our experimental 'test-drive' child.
And 'why experiment on a plant when you can buy a smelly biting hamster?' is what I always say.
The second hamster, Spike, never bit me, but I didn't give him much of a chance to. He was a handful and quite the daredevil. He liked to jump off of really high places, like the top of the couch. He managed to escaped from his cage a few times when me or the HB didn't connect the connector tubes correctly after a cleaning. We actually had to resort to lots and lots of scotch tape to keep Spike from popping them apart. Stupid hamster.
Since we blocked off that escape route, Spike took to chewing up the back corner of his little plastic habitat condo. He must have been gnawing on it for days (or nights actually, because we never noticed it.) Then, one night/early morning, when the hole was big enough to try and squeeze his head through, Spike tried to make a prison break. He must have been too impatient because the hole wasn't quite big enough. And the craftsmanship of the hole wasn't well done either because it had sharp pointy edges and... well, I didn't see it happen (thank god) but I assumed that's how the eye got damaged.
It still gives me the willies to think about it. The poor hamster looked so pitiful and sore and out of sorts, what with its poor little shriveled up eye. It was one of the saddest things I've ever seen.
And the vet we went to emotionally blackmailed me and the HB because when we mentioned putting the poor animal to sleep the vet got mad and said he wasn't in the business of killing animals. No, he was in business of extorting money from emotional pet owners. Let me tell you, that little self-righteous speech made me feel like complete shit. I didn't want to be an animal killer! So the HB and I agreed to the recommended surgery. To fix a fucking hamster! A hamster with half his life expectancy already lived! It's embarrassing to admit I was so gullible, but Spike the Hamster was looking up at me with his one good eye, with a pitiful look that said, 'help me!' and the vet said he wasn't an animal killer, and somehow all sense of rational thinking flew out the door.
I will never do it again, though. (At least not for a hamster that's reaching retirement age!) I've learned my lesson and paid over a hundred bucks for it. (A hundred bucks for a stinkin' hamster!) And if I ever have a dog or a cat I will find a vet who is kind and believes in doing what's best for the animal, even if that means putting the animal to sleep. My mom has that kind of vet, and when she told her vet about our vet, her vet was completely appalled that our vet would ever say such a thing.
Spike the one-eyed hamster lived for about another year after that , and was as crazy and daredevil-ish as ever. And before his death, even before the whole losing-an-eye tragedy, he starred (along with Ralph) in a short film I directed for an intro to film class, so he will be forever immortalized on the little screen (it went straight to video - heh) as a healthy, tough, two-eyed hamster.
I think I have a picture of Spike in one of those cone-around-the-neck things they put on animals so they don't lick their stitches. If I can find it (and if I can remember to even look for it) I'll try and post it here later.
* actual retail value of point = still undetermined
Yano guessed that I was lying about my one-eyed hamster and my two birthmarks. She was wrong on both counts, yet at the same time, both were wonderfully good guesses. One super gooey E-For-Excellent-Effort brownie point* for Yano!
Wait, you say? A one-eyed hamster? Really?
Unfortunately for the hamster, yes.
But first, some not-so-interesting information about the birthmarks (because I'm a tease like that.)
5. I have two birthmarks.
I have one on my right shin and another on my lower back. When I was a baby I used to have another one above my eye, and my mom swears she can still see it when I get really sick and pasty, but I've looked in the mirror and there's absolutely nothing there. Silly mommy. :)
8. I used to be the not-so-proud owner of a one eyed hamster.
I didn't buy him with one eye. He poked it out himself by accident (unless he had self-mutilating issues I was unaware of) about a year after we got him.
My first ever hamster, Ralph, was a gift from The HB. Why he gave me a fucking hamster I have no idea. He had a bunch of hamsters/guinea pigs when he was a kid so I think he thought it'd be cute to give his girlfriend one. Whatever. The little fucker bit me the first day I had him and we never really got along well afterwards (we as in me and the evil hamster, not we as in me and the boyfriend).
About a year later me and the boyfriend moved in together and as a symbol of the everlasting love we shared for one another we bought another hamster. Actually, its more like the HB really wanted another pet to play with and I got suckered into tagging along to the pet store. I just couldn't say
And 'why experiment on a plant when you can buy a smelly biting hamster?' is what I always say.
The second hamster, Spike, never bit me, but I didn't give him much of a chance to. He was a handful and quite the daredevil. He liked to jump off of really high places, like the top of the couch. He managed to escaped from his cage a few times when me or the HB didn't connect the connector tubes correctly after a cleaning. We actually had to resort to lots and lots of scotch tape to keep Spike from popping them apart. Stupid hamster.
Since we blocked off that escape route, Spike took to chewing up the back corner of his little plastic habitat condo. He must have been gnawing on it for days (or nights actually, because we never noticed it.) Then, one night/early morning, when the hole was big enough to try and squeeze his head through, Spike tried to make a prison break. He must have been too impatient because the hole wasn't quite big enough. And the craftsmanship of the hole wasn't well done either because it had sharp pointy edges and... well, I didn't see it happen (thank god) but I assumed that's how the eye got damaged.
It still gives me the willies to think about it. The poor hamster looked so pitiful and sore and out of sorts, what with its poor little shriveled up eye. It was one of the saddest things I've ever seen.
And the vet we went to emotionally blackmailed me and the HB because when we mentioned putting the poor animal to sleep the vet got mad and said he wasn't in the business of killing animals. No, he was in business of extorting money from emotional pet owners. Let me tell you, that little self-righteous speech made me feel like complete shit. I didn't want to be an animal killer! So the HB and I agreed to the recommended surgery. To fix a fucking hamster! A hamster with half his life expectancy already lived! It's embarrassing to admit I was so gullible, but Spike the Hamster was looking up at me with his one good eye, with a pitiful look that said, 'help me!' and the vet said he wasn't an animal killer, and somehow all sense of rational thinking flew out the door.
I will never do it again, though. (At least not for a hamster that's reaching retirement age!) I've learned my lesson and paid over a hundred bucks for it. (A hundred bucks for a stinkin' hamster!) And if I ever have a dog or a cat I will find a vet who is kind and believes in doing what's best for the animal, even if that means putting the animal to sleep. My mom has that kind of vet, and when she told her vet about our vet, her vet was completely appalled that our vet would ever say such a thing.
Spike the one-eyed hamster lived for about another year after that , and was as crazy and daredevil-ish as ever. And before his death, even before the whole losing-an-eye tragedy, he starred (along with Ralph) in a short film I directed for an intro to film class, so he will be forever immortalized on the little screen (it went straight to video - heh) as a healthy, tough, two-eyed hamster.
I think I have a picture of Spike in one of those cone-around-the-neck things they put on animals so they don't lick their stitches. If I can find it (and if I can remember to even look for it) I'll try and post it here later.
* actual retail value of point = still undetermined
Lies Revealed, True Stories Shared - Part I
In Tuesday's post I listed ten things about myself. 8 were true. 2 were lies.
Today (because yesterday was anything but conducive to writing) I will reveal the truth behind the lies - and a relatively (hopefully) brief story behind the truths.
First off, the two lies!
3. My favorite color is yellow. - NOT TRUE!
My favorite color is blue. Yeah, yeah, I know, that's such a boring, generic thing to say. But its true. I love all the many varied shades and hues of blue. They're peaceful. Calming. Beautiful. I might prefer a specific type of blue over another (midnight? navy? cerulean? cornflower?) but I'd be too hard pressed to single any one of them out, so I'll just stick with the mama of them all and say (in my best Mike Meyers as Goldmember voice) 'I like bluuuuuue!'
My favorite color used to be red, when I was in the early elementary grades (K-2). Then my tastes changed, as tastes are sometimes want to do. I'm a big fan of green. And as of late a big fan of pink (which for some reason still truly perplexes me). I love to wear red (mainly because the HB says its looks great on me *teehee*) but my ultimate fav is still blue.
Last time I checked, my best friend and my boyfriend's favorite color was yellow. That's why I picked it for the lie. :)
6. I have an older brother. - NOT TRUE!
I have one sibling and he's younger than me by about 2 and a half years. He's a hell of a lot taller than me now though, by several inches. I love to introduce him as my 'little' brother. My little six foot, several inches tall brother. Sigh. I remember the good old days when I was a lot taller than him, back when it was easier to wrestle/horseplay/pick on him. Not that we roughhoused a lot. And the 'picking on' part? Not so much, either. (If he read this, he'd have something to say to the contrary, I'm sure. Not that that means anything because he can be highly delusion when it suits his purposes. Heh. Still love ya bro!)
So yeah, he used to be shorter than me, skinnier than me, all around smaller than me, and then all of a sudden - ZOOM! - he shot up like a Shaquille O'Neal plant in a basketballer garden. The growth spurt was especially noticable during either the first or second Christmas after I'd moved away to college, when I was home visiting for the holidays. The bro and I were goofing around and I said something, probably something of the teasing variety (delivered in a lovingly sister manner, of course). Actually, I think it was something along the lines of 'just because you're much bigger than me now don't think I can't still beat you up if I wanted to'. (Not that I've ever even tried to beat him up before! Honest!) Before I knew it he had me in a headlock, and I was like, Dude! Something's seriously wrong with this scenario!
He was so much bigger than me, which had never been the case before, so it was a weird and foreign situation. Not scary, because I knew he wouldn't hurt me, but weird, because he had never dared give me the headlock noogies before. But this time? Now that he was bigger than me? He felt empowered enough to do so. Freaking noogies for crimeney's sake! The nerve!
I tried to wriggle free, and that's when my earrings nearly punctured little holes in my neck. Ouch! I've never been a big earring wearer so that, horseplayin' with tiny metal rods sticking out of my ears, was a new experience as well. But they were a recent gift so I was wearing them, because I was turning more into an adult and less like a kid sister, something both me and the bro were adjusting too. So after I broke free, and made sure I wasn't bleeding, I said to my brother:
"Next time you want to show off and prove you're bigger than me now, warn me first so I can take out my earrings."
He grinned like the adorably mischievous little brother that he is and looked at the invisible watch on his wrist. "How's two minutes from now sound? Is that enough warning?"
God I miss him. He's (supposedly) moving from Michigan to Las Vegas sometime soon, which means he'll only be a car ride away, rather than a plane ride away. Which means he'll be easier to visit. I just hope he doesn't change his mind. Again.
This was an easy lie for Z to spot, since she's known me since the third grade, and she's known my bro since she and I were in the fourth grade together. :) At least I think that's when they meet... hmmm...
Okay, I have to spend time doing some actual work now (*grumble grumble*) so I'll be breaking this into a few parts. The better to spread out the yummy reading goodness, my dears! So stay tuned for Part II, were I share some amusing-probably-only-to-me anecdotes about the Tuesday's 8 truths.
Today (because yesterday was anything but conducive to writing) I will reveal the truth behind the lies - and a relatively (hopefully) brief story behind the truths.
First off, the two lies!
3. My favorite color is yellow. - NOT TRUE!
My favorite color is blue. Yeah, yeah, I know, that's such a boring, generic thing to say. But its true. I love all the many varied shades and hues of blue. They're peaceful. Calming. Beautiful. I might prefer a specific type of blue over another (midnight? navy? cerulean? cornflower?) but I'd be too hard pressed to single any one of them out, so I'll just stick with the mama of them all and say (in my best Mike Meyers as Goldmember voice) 'I like bluuuuuue!'
My favorite color used to be red, when I was in the early elementary grades (K-2). Then my tastes changed, as tastes are sometimes want to do. I'm a big fan of green. And as of late a big fan of pink (which for some reason still truly perplexes me). I love to wear red (mainly because the HB says its looks great on me *teehee*) but my ultimate fav is still blue.
Last time I checked, my best friend and my boyfriend's favorite color was yellow. That's why I picked it for the lie. :)
6. I have an older brother. - NOT TRUE!
I have one sibling and he's younger than me by about 2 and a half years. He's a hell of a lot taller than me now though, by several inches. I love to introduce him as my 'little' brother. My little six foot, several inches tall brother. Sigh. I remember the good old days when I was a lot taller than him, back when it was easier to wrestle/horseplay/pick on him. Not that we roughhoused a lot. And the 'picking on' part? Not so much, either. (If he read this, he'd have something to say to the contrary, I'm sure. Not that that means anything because he can be highly delusion when it suits his purposes. Heh. Still love ya bro!)
So yeah, he used to be shorter than me, skinnier than me, all around smaller than me, and then all of a sudden - ZOOM! - he shot up like a Shaquille O'Neal plant in a basketballer garden. The growth spurt was especially noticable during either the first or second Christmas after I'd moved away to college, when I was home visiting for the holidays. The bro and I were goofing around and I said something, probably something of the teasing variety (delivered in a lovingly sister manner, of course). Actually, I think it was something along the lines of 'just because you're much bigger than me now don't think I can't still beat you up if I wanted to'. (Not that I've ever even tried to beat him up before! Honest!) Before I knew it he had me in a headlock, and I was like, Dude! Something's seriously wrong with this scenario!
He was so much bigger than me, which had never been the case before, so it was a weird and foreign situation. Not scary, because I knew he wouldn't hurt me, but weird, because he had never dared give me the headlock noogies before. But this time? Now that he was bigger than me? He felt empowered enough to do so. Freaking noogies for crimeney's sake! The nerve!
I tried to wriggle free, and that's when my earrings nearly punctured little holes in my neck. Ouch! I've never been a big earring wearer so that, horseplayin' with tiny metal rods sticking out of my ears, was a new experience as well. But they were a recent gift so I was wearing them, because I was turning more into an adult and less like a kid sister, something both me and the bro were adjusting too. So after I broke free, and made sure I wasn't bleeding, I said to my brother:
"Next time you want to show off and prove you're bigger than me now, warn me first so I can take out my earrings."
He grinned like the adorably mischievous little brother that he is and looked at the invisible watch on his wrist. "How's two minutes from now sound? Is that enough warning?"
God I miss him. He's (supposedly) moving from Michigan to Las Vegas sometime soon, which means he'll only be a car ride away, rather than a plane ride away. Which means he'll be easier to visit. I just hope he doesn't change his mind. Again.
This was an easy lie for Z to spot, since she's known me since the third grade, and she's known my bro since she and I were in the fourth grade together. :) At least I think that's when they meet... hmmm...
Okay, I have to spend time doing some actual work now (*grumble grumble*) so I'll be breaking this into a few parts. The better to spread out the yummy reading goodness, my dears! So stay tuned for Part II, were I share some amusing-probably-only-to-me anecdotes about the Tuesday's 8 truths.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Ten on Tuesday - Can you spot the lies?
8 Truths and 2 Lies About Me
- I've never broken a bone. Mine or someone else's.
- The only time I've gotten a bloody nose is after being punched in the nose.
- My favorite color is yellow.
- I was a competitive swimmer from the age of 6 to the age of 19.
- I have two birthmarks.
- I have an older brother.
- I competed in a talent show in elementary school. A friend and I lip synched to Stop In The Name Of Love.
- I used to be the not-so-proud owner of a one eyed hamster.
- I used to spend the class period thinking dirty little thoughts about my summer school government teacher. He was hot, in a political dork kind of way.
- My first car was a dodge lancer. Envy me now!
So, can you spot the two lies? Super gooey brownie points if you can. :)
Yap!
Okay, its honestly too early in the morning for something to have made my day. But something has. I'm going to be nothing but smiles for the rest of the day.
Nonsense, you say? There's still so much day left, how could something be so wonderfully amusing that it wipes out possible future work related crap?
Well, I don't know if I have the words to accurately convey my sense of giddiness. But I'll try.
See, there's this woman at work and she's Grade A annoying. I think I've called her Dragon Lady in previous posts. I didn't give her that nickname, mind you, but its fitting. Some even refer to her as The Bitch Who Keeps Dumping All Of Her Work On My Already Huge Pile O' Stuff To Do. I could go on and on about her, but I'm in too good of a mood to ruin it by bitching (too much) about her. Let's just say that she's been getting on my nerves a lot lately. So much so that when she pops over my cubicle wall and impatiently tells me to fix something, regardless of whatever project I'm in the middle of, I'm not resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her as strongly as I should.
So anyways, today, she sent an email to me and Old Guy Ken. She doesn't have the best English, even on the best of days, and today is not one of her better days. Her emails are like little word puzzles you have to decode, her writing style very similar to Engrish. When she limits herself to just a couple of sentences she's usually okay but...
Well, in this morning's email, I'm sure she meant to type:
Yeah! Another vendor blah blah blah...
Instead she wrote:
Yap ! another vendor blah blah blah...
Yap?
*tee hee*
Since I can't stick my tongue out at her and tell her to 'chill out' I can giggle at her emails. Is that wrong of me? It probably is. But I gotta get the frustration out somehow. It's either that or I start banging my head on my desk again. And that leaves a weird mark.
Yap !
Nonsense, you say? There's still so much day left, how could something be so wonderfully amusing that it wipes out possible future work related crap?
Well, I don't know if I have the words to accurately convey my sense of giddiness. But I'll try.
See, there's this woman at work and she's Grade A annoying. I think I've called her Dragon Lady in previous posts. I didn't give her that nickname, mind you, but its fitting. Some even refer to her as The Bitch Who Keeps Dumping All Of Her Work On My Already Huge Pile O' Stuff To Do. I could go on and on about her, but I'm in too good of a mood to ruin it by bitching (too much) about her. Let's just say that she's been getting on my nerves a lot lately. So much so that when she pops over my cubicle wall and impatiently tells me to fix something, regardless of whatever project I'm in the middle of, I'm not resisting the urge to roll my eyes at her as strongly as I should.
So anyways, today, she sent an email to me and Old Guy Ken. She doesn't have the best English, even on the best of days, and today is not one of her better days. Her emails are like little word puzzles you have to decode, her writing style very similar to Engrish. When she limits herself to just a couple of sentences she's usually okay but...
Well, in this morning's email, I'm sure she meant to type:
Yeah! Another vendor blah blah blah...
Instead she wrote:
Yap ! another vendor blah blah blah...
Yap?
*tee hee*
Since I can't stick my tongue out at her and tell her to 'chill out' I can giggle at her emails. Is that wrong of me? It probably is. But I gotta get the frustration out somehow. It's either that or I start banging my head on my desk again. And that leaves a weird mark.
Yap !
Would you rather...
Would you rather...
1. be trapped in a haunted house overnight OR lost in the woods overnight?
I'd rather be trapped in a haunted house where the only thing that can get me is my own imagination. Being lost in the woods would suck because it highly increases your chances of getting eaten by a bear. Bear dinner = major suckitude.
2. walk across 10 feet of hot coals bare foot OR lie down on a bed of nails?
Hot coals. I've seen enough people walk barefoot across hot coals before that I'm sure its relatively easy. The bed of nails thing still gives me the skeevy jeevies whenever I see someone do it. Ouch!
3. listen to non-stop 24 hours of celine dion OR ac/dc?
Non-stop Celine. Because I know the words to a lot of her songs and could sing along. That will make the experience fun. No really, it would! Which in turn would, hopefully, keep my brain from exploding after a couple of hours worth.
4. eat a container of paste OR a bag of flour?
A bag of flour. In the second grade I sat next to a boy who ate paste and it totally grossed me out. He used to spit on my chair too, which now I know, as I've come to realize in all my wisdom, meant he was totally in love with me.
The bag of flour would be hard to eat, but I wouldn't be as grossed out by it, so in the long run it would be easier to consume in such a massive quantity.
Monday, June 27, 2005
This Public Service Announcement Brought To You By Tha Man
If you want to see who 'tha man' is, check this out.
*tee hee*
Guess I won't be shaking my ta-ta's and/or twirling like a ballerina and/or doing my Robert De Niro impersonations and/or etc in front of 'in store' video cameras any more. Not that I do that sort of thing all the time or anything like that. Sheesh.
*tee hee*
Guess I won't be shaking my ta-ta's and/or twirling like a ballerina and/or doing my Robert De Niro impersonations and/or etc in front of 'in store' video cameras any more. Not that I do that sort of thing all the time or anything like that. Sheesh.
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