Sunday, October 29, 2006
Just Like a Six-Foot-Long Sub Sandwich
It is just as impossible to not make others smile when carrying a six-foot-long sub down the street as it is to not smile when you are offered shaped pancakes. With the aid of cookie cutters, Mom made stars, elves, hearts, gingerbread men and trees on the griddle this morning. It was for Coleen mostly, but I think everyone at the table thought it was a little bit for them...
Thursday, October 26, 2006
I Was Late
Sunday
So, my period is officially late. This is day 29...and I don't usually make it to day 28. I keep checking to see if my math is just way off. But it isn't.
So on Saturday I bought a box with two sticks. Peed on it in the morning and I got one line: Not PG. Wasn't convinced when I didn't get my period during the day so I did it again this morning. One line, again. WTF? Where is my period? Did I stress myself out so much this week that I made it go away? Did Wednesday's meltdown scare it out of my body? Not sure. We'll see what happens.
Maybe I'm going through early menopause...
Wednesday
On Tuesday, I arranged a bloodtest for this afternoon because now I was way late. I knew the second I sat my ass on the exam table and extended my arm for the draw I'd start to feel crampy and boob-sensitive.
Bingo.
Got it Wednesday night. No resutlts from the doc yet, but really, do I need it?
Bloody NO!
So, my period is officially late. This is day 29...and I don't usually make it to day 28. I keep checking to see if my math is just way off. But it isn't.
So on Saturday I bought a box with two sticks. Peed on it in the morning and I got one line: Not PG. Wasn't convinced when I didn't get my period during the day so I did it again this morning. One line, again. WTF? Where is my period? Did I stress myself out so much this week that I made it go away? Did Wednesday's meltdown scare it out of my body? Not sure. We'll see what happens.
Maybe I'm going through early menopause...
Wednesday
On Tuesday, I arranged a bloodtest for this afternoon because now I was way late. I knew the second I sat my ass on the exam table and extended my arm for the draw I'd start to feel crampy and boob-sensitive.
Bingo.
Got it Wednesday night. No resutlts from the doc yet, but really, do I need it?
Bloody NO!
Monday, October 23, 2006
Poor Poor Sujay
It was the eve of Sam's Christening. The '‘Rents were over for dinner with Sash, E, Kief and little pink-eyed Ryder. Suj was in town and everyone wanted to get together on Friday night, as Saturday day and evening was going to be reserved for the raucous party that was to follow the ceremony of Sam's entrance into the "Kingdom of Heaven." We had a great time but Suj wasn't paying attention to his bottle of Scotch. It was draining slowly but surely, and he was the only one drinking the 10-year-old McCallen single malt. A third of the bottle was gone by midnight.
So up we got in the am - not too early of course, though Ray and I were none the worse for the wear...Sujay rolled out at around noon. We had gone for bagels so he tried to placate his sour stomach with some bread and milk. Then his dehydration got the better of him when he saw me drinking a berry juice and Seven-up combo. He wanted one as well, so he made himself one to quench the thirst.
Bad move.
After driving very carefully, we got to the Christening (normally I'm hell on wheels, right Kelse?). I was kind because he was grading between green and sheet white - hard for an Indian. Suj said to the hosts in his lovely British accent, "Hello, nice to meet you, where is your bathroom please?" Apparently he had his own Christening to perform at the porcelain alter.
He managed to rally for the ceremony, but Ray had to drive him home shortly after the water touched Sam's forehead. Too bad. They had a bounce house. There were midnight races for the adults, and we missed them.
So up we got in the am - not too early of course, though Ray and I were none the worse for the wear...Sujay rolled out at around noon. We had gone for bagels so he tried to placate his sour stomach with some bread and milk. Then his dehydration got the better of him when he saw me drinking a berry juice and Seven-up combo. He wanted one as well, so he made himself one to quench the thirst.
Bad move.
After driving very carefully, we got to the Christening (normally I'm hell on wheels, right Kelse?). I was kind because he was grading between green and sheet white - hard for an Indian. Suj said to the hosts in his lovely British accent, "Hello, nice to meet you, where is your bathroom please?" Apparently he had his own Christening to perform at the porcelain alter.
He managed to rally for the ceremony, but Ray had to drive him home shortly after the water touched Sam's forehead. Too bad. They had a bounce house. There were midnight races for the adults, and we missed them.
Segy Ugxy
I saw this commercial for Dawn of the Dead and I'm pretty sure I saw a clip of Iggy Pop as a zombie. This was while I was watching Daniel Day Lewis in Gangs of New York. "These guys are totally gross here," I thought to myself, "but in the right circumstances (lighting) I'd probably be okay with their advances..." These two men inspired me to create my own list of Sexy Ugly men. To this list of two, we can add:
- Mick Jagger - craggy cute
- Benicio Del Toro - greasy and finger lickin'good
- Jeff Goldblum - geeky but baby gives good voice
- Michael Wincott - The Crow? Sir Guy of Gisbourne? mmmm...
- Ron Perlman - Beauty was the Beast
- Tommy Lee Jones - want to touch his facial folds
- Jean Reno - born Don Juan Moreno y Jederique Jimenez, aka The Professional
- Alan Rickman - in anything
- Lambert Wilson - The French Guy in The Matrix Revolutions
- Marilyn Manson - sometimes, most of the time just creepy
- Billy Corgan - with eyeliner he reminds me of Powder, awww...
- Edward James Almos - super craggy
- Gabriel Byrne - barely ugly, but definitely sexy
Thursday, October 19, 2006
Blue 19? Blue 19!
Oh happy day. Today was Immigration and Naturalization day. Today I had my long awaited "biometrix" appointment to get the Married Name Change in the works for the Green Card. The promise of an appointment that may or may not be honoured, a long wait in line, a smelly neighbour, the issuing of a number.
I'm a bank account number, a Social Security number, a passport number, an Am Ex number, a Green Card number, a debit card number, a cell, home and fax number, a password number (the same one for everything, stupid, I know), I'm the 2nd child, the 1st girl (okay, the only girl), a Lot number, a Barnes and Noble number, Gap number Delta number and Target number.
And today, I was Blue 19.
Picture this: Three rows of chairs, eight wide, first two rows occupado, last row half full. Every time the person in the front row, first chair on the right, gets called as "NEXT!" we all have to snake down one chair. It is a little ridiculous dance much like doing a Canon in ballet.
Everyone!! Stand, stand stand, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, sit, sit, sit, cross legs, cross legs, cross legs. Pause for a minute and a quarter.
"NEXT!"
Una mas!
So after five sets of Canon...wait let me back up. Sash and E just went through this and they gave me the heads up that you can't have your cell phone with you and there is no reading material. I brought my teeny tiny miniature version of Much Ado About Nothing (it's red and looks like a bible complete with a red ribbon for marking where you left off). I felt a little weird with it but it kept me completely absorbed. Completely absorbed, so much so that I didn't register the three, count them, three people yelling my number.
BLUE 19? Blue 19! Blue. 19. Buh-lew 9 teen! After the five sets of Canon I was just mindlessly moving on automatic, reading my teeny tiny pages.
"There she is. Blue 19. Ma'am? They're calling your number."
Blue 19 got up and went the lady who needed a detailed explanation of maiden name, 1st married name and hoping to have second married name register before Death I Do Part. "Tanks," she says, "ju can go back to de chairsss and wait for dem to call ju for feengerpreenting." Right. Blue 19 gets up to go back to the chairs to find that she has missed out on four chair shuffles. Crap! Six musical chair sessions later, she calls me again.
"Jor Mohder's name? Jor Fahder's name? Addresssss? Okay. Ju can go back to de chairsss." A shuffle was taking place! And there was my chance. I went right back to the place I had been and squeezing in said to the chic next to me (meaning, the chic who needed to be behind me), "I'm just going to take the place where I was because they keep calling me out of line, and I'll pretty much be here forever if I have to keep going back to the end of the line." Big smile. "Thanks."
They didn't call Blue 19 out of line again. After they fingerprinted me (ooh, very Law & Order - I'm "in the system"), I reached the photograph portion of the deal. She was sweet and asked me if I wanted a "do-over" when my mug showed up on the computer screen. I looked like crap. Whatever. I gave her an unceremonious, "No."
I will look like crap until 2024 when I have to renew the pic.
I'm a bank account number, a Social Security number, a passport number, an Am Ex number, a Green Card number, a debit card number, a cell, home and fax number, a password number (the same one for everything, stupid, I know), I'm the 2nd child, the 1st girl (okay, the only girl), a Lot number, a Barnes and Noble number, Gap number Delta number and Target number.
And today, I was Blue 19.
Picture this: Three rows of chairs, eight wide, first two rows occupado, last row half full. Every time the person in the front row, first chair on the right, gets called as "NEXT!" we all have to snake down one chair. It is a little ridiculous dance much like doing a Canon in ballet.
Everyone!! Stand, stand stand, shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, sit, sit, sit, cross legs, cross legs, cross legs. Pause for a minute and a quarter.
"NEXT!"
Una mas!
So after five sets of Canon...wait let me back up. Sash and E just went through this and they gave me the heads up that you can't have your cell phone with you and there is no reading material. I brought my teeny tiny miniature version of Much Ado About Nothing (it's red and looks like a bible complete with a red ribbon for marking where you left off). I felt a little weird with it but it kept me completely absorbed. Completely absorbed, so much so that I didn't register the three, count them, three people yelling my number.
BLUE 19? Blue 19! Blue. 19. Buh-lew 9 teen! After the five sets of Canon I was just mindlessly moving on automatic, reading my teeny tiny pages.
"There she is. Blue 19. Ma'am? They're calling your number."
Blue 19 got up and went the lady who needed a detailed explanation of maiden name, 1st married name and hoping to have second married name register before Death I Do Part. "Tanks," she says, "ju can go back to de chairsss and wait for dem to call ju for feengerpreenting." Right. Blue 19 gets up to go back to the chairs to find that she has missed out on four chair shuffles. Crap! Six musical chair sessions later, she calls me again.
"Jor Mohder's name? Jor Fahder's name? Addresssss? Okay. Ju can go back to de chairsss." A shuffle was taking place! And there was my chance. I went right back to the place I had been and squeezing in said to the chic next to me (meaning, the chic who needed to be behind me), "I'm just going to take the place where I was because they keep calling me out of line, and I'll pretty much be here forever if I have to keep going back to the end of the line." Big smile. "Thanks."
They didn't call Blue 19 out of line again. After they fingerprinted me (ooh, very Law & Order - I'm "in the system"), I reached the photograph portion of the deal. She was sweet and asked me if I wanted a "do-over" when my mug showed up on the computer screen. I looked like crap. Whatever. I gave her an unceremonious, "No."
I will look like crap until 2024 when I have to renew the pic.
Wednesday, October 18, 2006
No Pop, Just a Dull Throb
I think I hurt my foot.
I came in today after failing to fix the server problem yesterday (can I just tell you hard it was to get motivated enough to get out of bed with the "promise" of today?) , and went to the server to see if the backup had been somewhat successfull. Looks like maybe part of it had, but of course, something had to go wrong with it. The DVD got spit out but the backup did not continue...so I have to do it manually.
I went through the motions (and I say this with the enthusiasm of Steven Wright) but of course when it came to the critical point of inserting the DVD, the f_cking machine told me to enter the DVD in the drive.
I already had.
Redid the entire thing (again the motions, with the enthusiasm of Mr. Wright). Still wants me to put in a new DVD.
Again, I already had.
After the third try I kicked the file cabinet that the server was sitting on. Pretty sure it's not broken (my foot), but I'm sure glad I don't dance for a living anymore. Otherwise, I may have just taken myself out of a week of performing.
I came in today after failing to fix the server problem yesterday (can I just tell you hard it was to get motivated enough to get out of bed with the "promise" of today?) , and went to the server to see if the backup had been somewhat successfull. Looks like maybe part of it had, but of course, something had to go wrong with it. The DVD got spit out but the backup did not continue...so I have to do it manually.
I went through the motions (and I say this with the enthusiasm of Steven Wright) but of course when it came to the critical point of inserting the DVD, the f_cking machine told me to enter the DVD in the drive.
I already had.
Redid the entire thing (again the motions, with the enthusiasm of Mr. Wright). Still wants me to put in a new DVD.
Again, I already had.
After the third try I kicked the file cabinet that the server was sitting on. Pretty sure it's not broken (my foot), but I'm sure glad I don't dance for a living anymore. Otherwise, I may have just taken myself out of a week of performing.
Monday, October 16, 2006
An Even Better List
In the spirit of the birthday list, I propose to you my outstanding list for Monday:
All The Shit That Broke Today
Quite honestly, I want to get a blow torch and go Office Space on the server, or just beat the everlovingratshit out of it.
How good would this make me feel? Bueno, excellente.
Seriously, Im going home to drown myself in a rum runner, and yes cK, Im having the floater.
All The Shit That Broke Today
- my Outlook viewing pane, then the send and receive, then the entire program
- the server NOD updates
- server service package 3
- server drive E "bad mail folder"
- server mirrored hard drive (needs serious replacement)
- Adobe Acrobat (corrupted files - what else?)
- Access program on my laptop
- mail server on the web (apparently doesnt exist)
- had to write the above "doesnt" without the apostrophe - cause GUESS WHAT? I just found out that it is broken TOO!!! Holy Crap! Cant a girl get an effing break? It keeps taking me to "find." I dont want find!
Quite honestly, I want to get a blow torch and go Office Space on the server, or just beat the everlovingratshit out of it.
How good would this make me feel? Bueno, excellente.
Seriously, Im going home to drown myself in a rum runner, and yes cK, Im having the floater.
Friday, October 13, 2006
Happy Birthday To Me!
I just want to do a quick update on my birthday gifts so far:
37? Looks fabulous so far!
- I woke up with a UTI
- I think I might be working on a yeast infection
- My car won't turn over (I need a new starter)
37? Looks fabulous so far!
On Purpose or Bad Timing?
Finally caught the movie Deliverance. I had always heard about the squeal-like-a-pig scene and thought that I'd want to avoid it. But I found the movie on the TV from the beginning and quite honestly, I was riveted. I watched until the point where Mountain Man 1 assaults Ned Beatty and then Mountain Man 2 is about to go for Jon Voight. Burt Reynolds shoots an arrow through MM 1's chest, and we cut to a commercial.
For Cialis. Yes, Cialis...the other Viagra.
The tagline?
"When the moment is right, will you be ready?"
What I heard was:
"When the moment is right, will you be Ned Beatty?"
For Cialis. Yes, Cialis...the other Viagra.
The tagline?
"When the moment is right, will you be ready?"
What I heard was:
"When the moment is right, will you be Ned Beatty?"
Thursday, October 12, 2006
Money Doesn't Grow on Trees
But it does lie next to lawyers.
I had (note the tense) an open Workers Comp claim for my busted up left knee - two surgeries as many of you know. After a four year lull (during which I had basically forgotten that I had an open claim) I got a call from my lawyer (who I now love dearly - all you lawyer-haters: Suck It). He proceeds to tell me that my case is being settled at a very pleasing amount, 4/5ths of which I will be receiving via cheque very shortly.
Whoo-ahh!
THEN!
I get a call from him a few days later saying that the State of Cali wants me to go away, as in, never bother them again about my knee. This means they'd like to "buy me out" for another grand sum.
WHAT?
"Do you want to take what I consider to be their very generous offer?" said lawyer says to me.
Fighting back the urge to say "Chuh!" I say politely, "Well, if you think it's a good offer, then I'll take it." He wants $4,700 for the five years of representing me - I say "You bet." This is how happy I am...I want him to have the money. He deserves it. Anyone who can get me a nice tidy little windfall such as this one without any fuss and bother on my part is fee-worthy to me.
ps - It's all tax-free!!! Christmas came early to my household. Champagne and truffles for everyone.
I had (note the tense) an open Workers Comp claim for my busted up left knee - two surgeries as many of you know. After a four year lull (during which I had basically forgotten that I had an open claim) I got a call from my lawyer (who I now love dearly - all you lawyer-haters: Suck It). He proceeds to tell me that my case is being settled at a very pleasing amount, 4/5ths of which I will be receiving via cheque very shortly.
Whoo-ahh!
THEN!
I get a call from him a few days later saying that the State of Cali wants me to go away, as in, never bother them again about my knee. This means they'd like to "buy me out" for another grand sum.
WHAT?
"Do you want to take what I consider to be their very generous offer?" said lawyer says to me.
Fighting back the urge to say "Chuh!" I say politely, "Well, if you think it's a good offer, then I'll take it." He wants $4,700 for the five years of representing me - I say "You bet." This is how happy I am...I want him to have the money. He deserves it. Anyone who can get me a nice tidy little windfall such as this one without any fuss and bother on my part is fee-worthy to me.
ps - It's all tax-free!!! Christmas came early to my household. Champagne and truffles for everyone.
Holy 37
It's my birthday tomorrow. We're having a small family get-together at our house, chili and lasagna courtesy of my husband. Ray makes three wicked dishes and these are two of them (the other is chicken masala, but he hasn't made that since he was trying to impress me when we were dating).
Presents received thus far:
Looking forward to stretching the celebration into the weekend...maybe I can finally drag Ray to the Norton Museum for a day of art-strolling. Maybe I can even convince him to get up early on Saturday morning and go to the Farmer's Green Market with me. Okay, so that might be pushing it.
Presents received thus far:
- two pairs of shorts and a pair of coulottes from Old Navy (Mom)
- a Sheryl Crow long-sleeved T from the concert last night (Jen)
- the concert last night (unknowingly given by Tom - it was just fortuitous timing)
- two pairs of kickin' boots from Nine West (me)
- yesterday afternoon off (also me)
Looking forward to stretching the celebration into the weekend...maybe I can finally drag Ray to the Norton Museum for a day of art-strolling. Maybe I can even convince him to get up early on Saturday morning and go to the Farmer's Green Market with me. Okay, so that might be pushing it.
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Just a Preview
I want to write more about this experience (when I am not at work, or when I am supposed to be working), but I wanted to share a small snippet to give you a taste of what's to come.
I was at the Keylime House with Ray and Steve. It is a tiki bar, waterside haven for happy hour Salty Dogs and Harley Women.
A beaut from Ray:
"Man, there are a lot of old women in here under really young hair."
I was at the Keylime House with Ray and Steve. It is a tiki bar, waterside haven for happy hour Salty Dogs and Harley Women.
A beaut from Ray:
"Man, there are a lot of old women in here under really young hair."
Wednesday, October 04, 2006
Happy Hairy's Treasure Chest
This is truly a golden moment in the annals of sibling stupidity.
Lexi, my younger by three years, father of two beautiful girls, got rip roarin' drunk this past weekend. He weaved his way upstairs and proceeded to dig out a pimple on his chest. In his stupor, he decided that there was too much hair in the way. (My brother is a hairy bastard.) Here's what happened next...he grabbed a razor. He felt that the hair just had to be removed so he could get better purchase on the offending blemish. So he started to shave the area.
You know that Seinfeld episode? The Muffin Tops was the title. The one where Jerry starts shaving his chest and can't stop? Well, that's Lexi. Except on the way to Baresville, he stops briefly in HappyFace Town. Shaved cirles around the nipples and a smiley face. Um-hmm. Like the 40-year old Virgin, but with less pain.
That was three days ago. Now he's just an itchy bastard.
Lexi, my younger by three years, father of two beautiful girls, got rip roarin' drunk this past weekend. He weaved his way upstairs and proceeded to dig out a pimple on his chest. In his stupor, he decided that there was too much hair in the way. (My brother is a hairy bastard.) Here's what happened next...he grabbed a razor. He felt that the hair just had to be removed so he could get better purchase on the offending blemish. So he started to shave the area.
You know that Seinfeld episode? The Muffin Tops was the title. The one where Jerry starts shaving his chest and can't stop? Well, that's Lexi. Except on the way to Baresville, he stops briefly in HappyFace Town. Shaved cirles around the nipples and a smiley face. Um-hmm. Like the 40-year old Virgin, but with less pain.
That was three days ago. Now he's just an itchy bastard.
Sunday, October 01, 2006
In Sheep's Clothing
Was looking for an image for the post below when I came across this:
Does anyone have an explanation?
Does anyone have an explanation?
Here's What I Missed
Okay, so I'm home from Japan now. Fully ensconced in the American lifestyle again. Had a McDonald's Big and Nasty with cheese, fries and a coke the moment I got home. So much for the maybe-I-can-keep-up-the-healthy-seafood-diet-thing-when-I-get-home crap. In a word? No.
I've already, this week, indulged in fast food, burgers at home, 3 poached eggs and 4 strips of bacon (in one breakfast sitting), beef stroganoff, chili, and turtles (just one a night though). My colon should be crying.
Besides intestinally devious food, here's what else I missed in Japan - and didn't realize it until today (7 days later): Music.
I asked Ray what we should do this weekend, and he surprised me by saying, "Umm, I don't know...maybe get some colour?" So while he napped off the rest of his cold, I went out to the chaise in the backyard by the pool and I did just that. I got some colour. A little too much of it actually, I'm a little hot under this quilt - could be due to the redness of my skin.
Anyway. I sat out there with my iPod on shuffle. For at least an hour and a half, I was pleased by the surprise of the next song, never knowing what was coming around the corner. The earbuds afforded a better, more accurate quality of sound...I discovered new aural images during the beginnings and fade-outs of well-known songs. There were things I'd never heard before. Little laughs before the drummer set the intro pace, or last words in the fade that were undetectable on the radio or in my kitchen iPod docking station.
It's obvious that they were always there, but why hadn't I heard them before? Was it really the lack of definition in the car or kitchen speakers, or was it the fact that I haven't sat down, in a very long time, and done nothing but really listened to the music? Am I too often multi-tasking, taking the sound for granted, as just background noise to carry me from one errand to the other? I'm thinking yes.
Today I sank into the music. I let it transport me, as music is wont to do, much like smell takes one back to a certain time or place. I felt the political overtones of Peter Gabriel. Alanis took me back to appreciating how Ray pulled me out of the dumps. Philip Glass sent me to the stage performing Betsy's Beneath the Wake. I rode on A1A with Coldplay, the Caldecott Tunnel with John Mayer, cross country with Gotan Project. I felt Ray Charles' drug addiction and the romance of Mansfield Park's soundtrack. I heard Black Francis' manic wail and James Iha's sweet contretemps guitar.
But mostly I just listened.
I really listened.
I've already, this week, indulged in fast food, burgers at home, 3 poached eggs and 4 strips of bacon (in one breakfast sitting), beef stroganoff, chili, and turtles (just one a night though). My colon should be crying.
Besides intestinally devious food, here's what else I missed in Japan - and didn't realize it until today (7 days later): Music.
I asked Ray what we should do this weekend, and he surprised me by saying, "Umm, I don't know...maybe get some colour?" So while he napped off the rest of his cold, I went out to the chaise in the backyard by the pool and I did just that. I got some colour. A little too much of it actually, I'm a little hot under this quilt - could be due to the redness of my skin.
Anyway. I sat out there with my iPod on shuffle. For at least an hour and a half, I was pleased by the surprise of the next song, never knowing what was coming around the corner. The earbuds afforded a better, more accurate quality of sound...I discovered new aural images during the beginnings and fade-outs of well-known songs. There were things I'd never heard before. Little laughs before the drummer set the intro pace, or last words in the fade that were undetectable on the radio or in my kitchen iPod docking station.
It's obvious that they were always there, but why hadn't I heard them before? Was it really the lack of definition in the car or kitchen speakers, or was it the fact that I haven't sat down, in a very long time, and done nothing but really listened to the music? Am I too often multi-tasking, taking the sound for granted, as just background noise to carry me from one errand to the other? I'm thinking yes.
Today I sank into the music. I let it transport me, as music is wont to do, much like smell takes one back to a certain time or place. I felt the political overtones of Peter Gabriel. Alanis took me back to appreciating how Ray pulled me out of the dumps. Philip Glass sent me to the stage performing Betsy's Beneath the Wake. I rode on A1A with Coldplay, the Caldecott Tunnel with John Mayer, cross country with Gotan Project. I felt Ray Charles' drug addiction and the romance of Mansfield Park's soundtrack. I heard Black Francis' manic wail and James Iha's sweet contretemps guitar.
But mostly I just listened.
I really listened.
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