Miguelito Having Fun With Photobooth

OMG I woke up this morning and in the mirror staring back at me was a boiled lobster! IDIOT! I spent all day in the nice warm sun, it was in the mid-sixties, breezy, I didn't even think of sunscreen. It's like I forgot what happens when the sun comes out. My face, chest and right arm got it the worst, the rest of me was either shaded or covered by clothes. And there's a little white spot on my chest from... just guess what... the shadow of my nose. Crying out loud. I've been slathering myself in 99% aloe gel so I hope this heals up fast. I, apparently, was the only person in this entire 14 story office building who went outside this weekend because everyone is looking at me like they've never seen a sunburn before, much less had one. I feel like a sideshow, "Step right up! See the amazing half-lobster girl!"

Hubby and I biked several miles to a May Day festival to see the parade and meet up with some friends. We really had a good time-- Hubby more so than me because he was tall enough to actually see the parade. I, on the other hand, got to see a couple inches here, couple inches there peeking between the people in the crowd. The streets of the parade route were lined with people three and four deep, so we just hung back a little with our bikes on one of the intersecting streets. Hubby took like 500 pictures with his iPhone, I hope he got some good ones. He took some pictures with my phone that didn't exactly capture the event, like, hey nice shot of that guy's hairy forearm. Thanks.

I haven't been to May Day in a few years, and yesterday I remebered why. Not only can you not drive within two square miles, but even biking is a hassle and we ended up walking our bikes through throngs of people. The parade is always super awesome and creative with handmade papier mache masks, huge figures, and floats, but once the parade ends, everyone goes to the festival and it's just choas. There are no activities, there's some sort of reenactment with a boat being pushed across the pond. There are a couple food vendors, hour-long lines for the porta-potties, kids running in wild naked packs, and people just sort of mill around the park juggling or hoola-hooping or trancing out on the grass.

Ultimately we decided to go to a nearby cafe, which, thankfully, was not at all crowded and whose outdoor seating was in the shade. So we sat around listening to each other's funny stories from the last couple months, my favorite being my BFF's sister's recounting of having a major fit of sneezing with a mouth packed full of watermelon--I'll be adding THAT to the list of things I think are funny. Anyway, time to put my rudolph nose back to the grindstone!

On The Leash

I'm at work, but I'm not really "into it" today. Am I ever? I guess sometimes... I'd really rather be home though. You know what would make work better? If I could move around!

Maybe I should buy one of those little bicycle pedal do-dads that just sit on the floor and I could pedal from my chair. OR it would also be cool if my seat was bungeed to the ceiling so I could bounce around. And from time to time, there are certain calls for which I would prefer to be upside down as this would allow my body to be aligned with my eyeball position.

I'm drinking Honest Tea Green Dragon Tea... It looks like lake water in August and I gotta tell you, it doesn't taste any better. Ack. I think it's smoothie time.

Two Wheels Are Better Than Four... So Are Six... Or Ten

Lately there have been so many articles in the news about rising gas prices and consumers being pissed off about it. It seems clear in my simple mind that the solution would be to drive less, but what do I know? I mean, no one forced these assholes to live in some suburban cul-de-sac in the far reaches of the urban sprawl zone. Riding the bus into downtown each morning I look out the window at the highway; one hulking mass of vehicle following the other, each carrying ONE occupant, and not a one of them getting past second gear.

If they're going broke they have no one to blame but themselves. They should all be abandoning their autos at the city limits-- drive to the park and ride, drive to the bike way! Better yet, live near the place you work... for Christ's sake people! (And that's not taking the Lord's name in vain in this context because the Pope recently declared polluting a sin.) They're spending hundreds of dollars each month ONLY because they're selfish, self-absorbed, and think somehow that they are too good to ride a bike or a bus. But come the rapture, they'll be the first to perish in the pyre and heaven only has bus stops and bike parking.

Season of the Shit-Storm

Tax season has finally passed us and I am now able to begin to pick up the tattered scraps of my sanity and move on. It was my first tax season and it sucked harder than a Catholic school-girl on a banana in front of her math teacher. Bitch-bitch-bitch day in and day out. All I did for the first two weeks of April was eat, sleep, and work. I got run down, got the flu, got stir crazy, got REAL cranky.

Then the SUN CAME OUT. I got to JOG--twice! I went for a really long bike ride for which my ass is still paying. I took a prescheduled sick day in the middle of the week. By golly, I feel nearly human again! And now I have a random three day weekend to look forward to, might be a waste of a PTO day, but fuck it. A day away from the phone is a day away from the phone.

The Weather Channel is predicting low-mid 50s for the whole weekend. Not what I'd call pleasant, but not quite cool enough too keep me holed up indoors in front of the TV set. I think another ridiculously long bike ride is in order... no idea where the hell I'd go, but I bet I can think of something. Maybe bike through the east side ghetto over to my mom's if I feel brave. Nah, I'm too scared of little thuglets packing heat who loiter on the corners, and most of my city's convicted sex offenders live in that zip code. Ok, so not the smartest idea I ever had, but now that I've had it I won't have it for the first time on Friday and think it's a good idea.

Gaaaaawd I don't want to go to work tomorrow, I have too keep reminding myself "It's a paycheck it's a paycheck." SO until next time America"... just kidding.

Post-Fever Delerium, or Things Only I Think are Funny

Calling my hubby Mr. McPancakes
The mental image of a man with juicy raisins stuck all in his hairy butt crack
Sitting quietly next to someone you know and suddenly shouting "Boo!" at them and making them jump
Watching people fall down
Pantsing people and slapping their cheeks
Watching dudes walk and thinking about their flaccid weiners wagging around in their trousers
Conversing with people who are talking in their sleep
Talking in the voice of Stan's older sister Shelly (South Park) in public
Narrating what the dog in the car ahead of ours might be thinking

TBC.....

Aaack!

I feel like poooop! I hate being sick. I caught a nasty chest cold. I don't get these very often, but when I do I just want to sleep till it's over but I can't sleep. I hate that I have to go to work Monday because I've had too many unexcused absences and I don't want to get fired. Remember when I played hooky last April? Here's my punishment.

My other absences were justifiable. I went to the in-house nurse because I had red streaks coming off a bug bite near my eye-and, frankly, I'm fuckin pissed that that hour counted against me. Another day my broken tooth broke more so I left to go to the dentist. Then in January I called in on the day it was 40 below.

Ugh! I hope I get better tomorrow. I feel like a five year old whining and moping. I look like hell, I smell bad, I'm too hot and then I'm cold, everything aches, and I'm SO SICK of watching TV.

Hey Rach:

DURR.

OT

Whew! All this hosting is wearing me out! I had my birthday party, the next weekend I made a salmon for lunch for my brother and his dad, and then I made a pot roast the next weekend for the in-laws. I think I'm done for now. These last few weekends have made me more tired than my work week. I decided to relax this weekend by working a shit-ton of overtime. I must be crazy. Now that I'm thinking about having to get up again tomorrow and head off to work, I'm suddenly worried about who's going to clean the bathroom?? I've been cleaning it every week for company and now that no one is coming by, how is this task going to be accomplished? Who's going to pick up and dust and sweep?? I think I'll delegate these chores to Hubby, though his follow through is half-assed at best. If he were my employee, he'd have been fired long ago. But he puts out every so often so I guess I'll keep him around.

Hollywood, Here I Come. Not

I quite enjoyed the mock calling, I hope I get to do that again. I am apparently quite good at being pushy and disorganized and my improvisation was complimented by the trainers I gave feedback to. I was dialing in to the training center in the Philippines from my cube and my neighbors around me were like, "you're terrible!" No I'm not, I'm realistic! I used my innate acting talent to tap into the general conciousness of an overworked assistant. I think I should act!

Probably not.

Tonight I am going to a community theater presentation of some Czech political farce that my sister in law is acting in. I can't wait to see it, I love theater. I should say I love PLAYS. I really don't like musicals, so I can't be considered a "lover of theater." Which is fine cuz some of those people are real weird.

Ohhhh the IRONY...

I have been selected by my boss to participate in mock calls to help train new overseas associates! the directive is to be PUSHY, DISORGANIZED, DEMANDING. Hahaha! How absolutely DELICIOUS! Although, the directive does specifically say we are not to bring any of the agents to tears. Boooo! Thumbs down! I'm excited to act out all the shitty calls I get each week, it will be cathartic.

I had a party!

Hubby and I have never been able to entertain before so this is a huge deal! Here's why: our first place together was big and ugly, the space was akward, the traffic was loud, and we had just two horrid hand-me-down armchairs for seating. Plenty of room for standing around if you didn't mind shuffling through the mail and newspapers all over the floor. We were stuck there for two years because we couldn't save up to move. We also were late on the rent every month for almost two years so they wouldn't renew our lease. Still broke, we rented an extra bedroom form a family friend for three months. Couldn't really entertain in a 10 by 10 foot bedroom piled with boxes. Then we moved into a one-bedroom, but it was 300 square feet and we only had a love seat to sit on. We did try to have people over there, but we'd go cross-eyed from having to look at each other so close. I wish I was exaggerating.

Now we have the most awesome place on earth with a furnished sunroom, living room and dining room to hang out in, so having people over totally rocks! I had a birthday party for myself with Hubby, mom and her hubby, and my married brother and his wifey. It was fun! I got presents and chocolate cake, I fed them gourmet veggie pizzas, and red wine got spilled all over the place, it was totally great!

Dear Britney,

My heart goes out to you for the terrible time you've been having. As if it weren't bad enough not knowing your up from your down, you're stalked 24/7 by the paparazzi salivating to get a shot of you in just such an upside-down moment. It's gotten so bad that it seems from the outside that you don't even know that you have the right to some privacy, what with you shacking up with a notorious heart-breaking paparazzo who, by the way, has publicly referred to you as his "meal ticket."

What I'm trying to say is, you need a time out. No more low-speed chases and running red lights and crashing into other peoples' expensive vehicles. I know that staying indoors is excruciatingly boring, especially when you are so used to having an entourage and 100 noisy, clamoring photogs pushing you in every direction. Even so, you definitely need some down time.

Being that this is next to impossible for you to accomplish right this moment, I have some good suggetions on taking the heat off--you may not like them, but here goes... If there's one thing the paps have NO interest in, it's a fat girl. Put down the exercise videos and lay off your trainer. No one fades into Hollywood obscurity faster than an overweight woman. I'm not suggesting you sacrifice your health, just relax your standards a little. If you're REALLY feeling inspired, put out a truly terrible "experimental" album. If you don't know what I mean, give Diamanda Galas a call, she's probably listed (not to be confused with Diamante and Galant which are made by Mitzubishi, which you also may not have heard of).

Like magic you will be much less photogenic, your head will bring a lower price and there will be fewer paps. Of course the die-hards that want to watch you completely flip out will still be hanging around, so what you can do to lose them would be to be a super-boring, normal-26-year-old-mom-of-two type. Wear underwear, lose the extensions and the "gentelmen's club" blonde. Ditch the enormous sunglasses (SOoo 2006 anyway, right?) Go to your court hearings for Pete's sake, those babies need their mommy. And finally, obey the traffic laws.... and.... TAH-DAH!! You will have enough physical space to work out whatever is going haywire in your mental space. It may not be intuitive, but sometimes the best course is the change how you act in order to change how you think.

Daily Grind, Finger Weapons, and Happy B-Day 2 Me

I can't believe I haven't blogged in like 800 years. I've got my daily routing nailed down so tight I wonder when I'm going to snap. I don't even have time to fuck around between calls at work anymore! Do they expect me to WORK for every PENNY? Jeez.

I never thought I'd be such a creature of habit, but since I've been on the weight loss wagon I'm a slave to my schedule. At work I barely get enough break time to eat and pee throughout the day, and at home I have just enough time each day to exercise, eat, address hygeine issues, and sleep. I haven't even plucked my eyebrows in three weeks and I look like a werewolf. I somehow had time to file my nails last week, though I don't know why since I've been clipping them completely off for years now. I guess it was because I hadn't even had time to clip 'em and they grew really long and mangled looking and I somewhere stumbled across a filing/buffing board I didn't know I had and I was overtired and it seemed like a good idea at the time. But now the edges are curling over and I'm afraid I'm gonna poke out my eye.

The upshot this grueling, unrelenting routine is that as of this morning I have lost 21 pounds. I was in a holding pattern for almost all of January and I was getting pissed off, but I finally busted through it. Now I'm aaaaalmost back on track to where I projected I'd be by now. I wanted to be 221 by my birthday--the 15th--so I think I'll be pretty close.

On the 15th I will be 33. I will also be in Chicago! Fuckin sweet! My sister owns a condo there and I guess she lives in kind of a hoity-toity area, I'm excited to see it. She's lived out there for like five years and I've never gone out to visit her. Not because I'm an asshole, but because I've been so damn broke. It's nice to be able to travel a little finally.

Wanna see what I got myself for my birthday? I added to my tattoo!



Here's the before...

Tinsel-town gossip time...

How much you wanna bet K-Fed is Jamie Lynn's baby daddy?

GIMMMEEEEE PRESENTS!

I love Christmas. This is the first year in a decade where I have been able to buy gifts for my family--it was SO fun! I did all my shopping on Saturday, having just been pounded with six inches of snow. I left the car at home and walked to all the shops in my neighborhood, and I gotta tell ya, that was definitely the way to go. The commercial district is accident prone on a normal day, and this kind of weather just brings out the worst in people behind the wheel. Winter storm drivers consist of three types: the overly cautious who cause backups and piss people off, the SUV drivers who want to prove to everyone that their vehicle can handle the snow so they drive more recklessly than usual, and then the rest of us defensive drivers with our eyes wide open trying to avoid accidents!

I enjoyed walking around bundled up like a dork with my messenger bag slung on my back, a chai latte in my right hand and a huge roll of wrapping paper in my left tromping through the snow and slipping in the icy road. I like winter when it's not chap-your-ass-cold, a little brisk air is nice.

When I got home I started wrapping--what a mess. My packages always look like they were wrapped by a blindfolded six year old. Well, maybe not that bad, but I sure wish I knew how to do it right. I guess it all ends up in the trash bin at the end of the day anyway. I'm hoping my gifts aren't as lame as my wrap jobs--I wouldn't want those to end up in the trash at the end of the day too!

I'm at work right now, and I am SO bored. Nobody's calling because they're all out Christmas-ing, I don't even know why we're open after the market closes at noon. All the calls we're getting are from the poor saps stuck in the office transfering money between accounts because their clients don't know how to get on the damn computer and do it themselves. When will they learn you gotta teach a man to fish? But then I suppose we'd be out of a job.

Speaking of poor saps stuck at work, I hope the grocery store is open by the time I get home, I still gotta cook something for tomorrow. Damn, I'm boring. I'm boring myself!

Stop! Theif!

I can't make Hubby quit stealing my laundry quarters! AAAARRRGGGG! Every payday for the last three months I've been the one getting rolls of quarters to wash, I'll buy tow, three, FOUR rolls at at time and tell him, "THESE are yours, these are MINE. You have enough, so leave mine alone." But every damn time he runs out, he uses mine!

And he only runs out because he won't put his clothes away and they sit in a basket and after three days he doesn't remember which basket is clean or dirty and starts throwing everything together. About 50% of each load he washes is shit that is already clean. What a waste!

So this week I got wise... or so I thought... he was out of quarters, I had half a roll left. I put them on the buffet away from everything, and I said, "Babe!" I said, "Look here, these are mine, I need them don't take them," and he said, "Oh, ok, those are yours, fine I won't use em."

Then the next day I put together a load and... WTF... "WHERE ARE MY QUARTERS THAT I TOLD YOU NOT TO TOUCH!" "They're here... here..." as he's scrounging all over the house for quarters left from his many coin deposits that he ferrets around the place. Great, got 'em back, washed a load, had some to spare, and told him just HOW much it bothers me when MY stuff goes missing that he has no business taking.

Last night I left work and thought as I was walking, mmmm, I should go to the bank for quarters... No, wait! I have a couple loads-worth left at home. Got home, NO LAUNDRY MONEY. HE STRUCK AGAIN!!!!!!!!! He took the same goddamn quarters a second time, AFTER I told him that it really pisses me off! WTF IS WRONG WITH THE MAN'S HEAD! I'm sitting at work wearing dirty pants, and poorly-fitting undies that are trying to migrate across my left butt cheek into my crevice. Thus, I am DISPLEASED to say the least!

We had a text fight about it while I rode to work and he was trying to make it out like I was just crabby and shouldn't take it out on him-- bull shit! I am crabby because I don't have anything I wanted to wear clean! AND MY PANTIES ARE INVADING MY PRIVACY!

I am going to HIDE my next roll of quarters, let his funky ass wear dirty clothes to work! Compulsive laundry money stealer!!!!!!

Listening In

When I was 20, my boyfriend's band mate Crane had this paid-under-the-table freelance psuedo-social work gig. Some wealthy couple had a son with a low IQ, Autism and Asbergers, and they wanted him to be properly socialized. His self esteem was suffering and was starting to get into trouble.

Crane was paid to cart this kid Sam around with him in his Geo a couple days a week during his normal off-work activities. He came to band practice, out to eat, to the bank, the grocery store, wherever. Why these richie parents charged a dread-head guitar playing opium smoker with the safekeeping of their only child I'll never know, but it sure says a lot about our public school system's programs.

Anyway, a few years later I started seeing him around, riding my same busses. He was socialized alright--just like Crane, he hit on everything that moved and prattled on forever about nothing and everything. I decided to avoid eye contact whenever I noticed him coming my way. Well lately, he's been on the bus I take to work (still avoiding eye contact by the way). I just so happened to forget my earphones, and Sam just happened to squeeze into the seat between me and someone else, and also happened to be chattering away with some middle-aged office-type lady.

But it wasn't so bad eavesdropping and finding out a little bit of what he's been doing all this time. He graduated from high school and went to tech school, but the cooking program proved to be too much. He's got a job, he's got a girlfriend, and the girlfriend's got a job. His parents retired early and sail around the world. They take him on vacation sometimes. He said that he's starting to get more sensitive as he gets older and cries at movies now, and he's reading a book called "Heart Song" that makes him cry too.

I hadn't ever wondered about it on my own, but it's nice to know things are working out for him.

Pet Peeves

I generally don't like to have too many peeves as pets, but this time of year they seem to be running rampant.

For instance, I live in Minnesota...where it's freezing cold...and it snows. Every other citizen drives a 4wd SUV. Yet when the snow starts coming down, everyone freaks out. Like yesterday, it snowed maybe three to four inches and all of downtown was brought to a screeching halt. When I got to my bus stop there were like 250 people piled up on the sidewalk and huddled in building entryways, and not one single bus came for 45 minutes (normally there is one every single minute during rush hour), and traffic was almost stopped. Then, slowly, a few busses started coming down the road, but they were so packed full they couldn't fit anymore people and just drove on past. And MY BUS?? It was TWO HOURS late. Are you KIDDING me??!!!

Jesus H Cripes. I get it that weather causes delays, but two hours? Come on, that's just poor city planning. Is it too much to ask for bus only lanes that will just shoot straight through the DT zone? Yes, of course it is because that would interfere with ability of selfish single car drivers to get through town in first gear polluting the shit out of the environment. Assholes! I am still overcome with the urge to go on a sub-zero car-egging spree. The lesson won't be apparent, but I will smile inside as I see them driving around with frozen egg that'll be there till fucking spring.

My other pet peeves are mass-commuter related. It's about consideration, y'all!
Weird lady in pink stirrup panst: If you are crammed up against someone, resist the urge to squirm and fidget--that's just nasty! I don't want to know if you have panty-crickets and a rash, SIT STILL.

Mr. Busdriver: I realize your job is low-status and frustrating, but you've got a cake route driving us downtown commuters. No drunks, no bums, no armed teenage riff-raff. So how about being nice to riders? I know you think you ARE being nice, but your condescension is thinly veiled. Yes, probably every rider on this bitch makes a better living than you, but you don't have to be an ass and tell everyone "Good job! Good Job!" as they swipe their cards across the touch-and-go.

Tall fat creepy guy who looks like a kiddie-porn fiend: For the love of God buy some clothes that fit across your protruding belly. Everyone can see that furry shit hanging out from under your jacket whose zipper is straining FAR beyond what it was designed to handle. I'm surprised you haven't gottent frostbit there yet.

Mr. Busy-guy: Keep it down over there! The less I know about your personal life the happier I am. This bus ride only lasts 15 minutes, ya think that call could WAIT? Not one of our lives has been made better knowing what your new girlfriend and her pals wants to do for her birthday.

Mouse-y blond chick: Are you aware that you have not altered your wardrobe in about FIFTEEN years? Which is probably about how long ago you graduated high school... Even I--queen of underdressing for work--know that you cannot wear cotton MC Hammer pants to work. ESPECIALLY if you're going to TUCK THE HEMS INTO YOUR WHITE SPORT SOCKS. With sneakers. Topped with a black suede jacket five sizes too big with football player shoulder pads and a tapered hem. The dinky leather backpack purse is a nice venture forward, but unfortunately it will only get you so far, 1997 to be exact. That Cost Cutters bob haircut is ALMOST art-house chic, with no layers and severe bangs... Mmmm, no.

Middle-class white lady: Get your goddamn tote bag OUT of my face, it smells like mildew.

THIS IS WHY PEOPLE KEEP DRIVING TO WORK DOWNTOWN AND MAKING MY BUS TWO HOURS LATE!

Stop The Presses!

Hubby and I actually worked on our apartment this weekend! No way? Way! I think we're about half way to completion, which is very exciting, and I'm not feeling quite so overwhelmed. I think we could have gotten further if we hadn't gotten sidetracked putting up the Christmas tree--I've never had my own tree before so I was super excited. Hubby got it last year on super clearance for like $7, I shit you not. Marked down from $60. It has lights already strung in it and looks pretty nice. We dug out the box of miscellaneous Xmas junk to see what I'd been stashing away for the last ten years and hung it on the tree. Then we ran out to Walgreens for some glass baubles and a couple cute ornaments--a snowman with dangly legs and santa on a Hog. Then I raided my craft box for some ribbon and glittery poinsettias. Now I have a ton of glitter in my hair that I can't get out. Yay for Crimiss!!