Random Crap

the descent....

2005-12-19T12:27:00.000-08:00

Ok, my descent into hell began at Big Lots.

We were undercharged for a Bratz doll. We stood right there basking in our "good fortune." And since then, I have gotten bumped back further and further in the line at the Pearly Gates. And am risking being ejected from park completely.

It's like evil is addictive.

I lent someone at work my Miss Kelly Clarkson Breakaway CD (while I listen to the bonus material...which is REALLY good for remixes and such)---ok, I don't understand a lesbian not owning all of Kelly's CDs...but that's a different topic. Well, bless her heart, she wips out these headphones that look like Princess Leah honey buns.

The giggling begins. I can't help it. I haven't seen headphones like that since my momma took me to the Green Stamp store many many moons ago.

Giggling continues.

Ok...worse than the big ole headphones is the indention they leave in her hair when she takes them off. Some recessa-Annie with a boufant looking 'do. I couldn't help it. I had to blurt out "very retro hairdo."

More giggles (only from me...with death-glare from her)

Ok, to top it off, she keeps having to giggle the cord of the headphones because they are cutting out.

When the highlight of your workday is laughing at coworkers....it's not right. And yet I worry...what if everyone at my new job is normal and I have no one to laugh at. Nah....couldn't happen. I saw plenty of prospects while I was interviewing for the job.

Does everyone laugh at others like this, or am I really that evil?

this one's for the scarf

2005-12-16T10:59:00.000-08:00

Last night I went to my kid's band concert. It always amazes me at how many people mill around and get in your way while you are watching. As my Sweetie would tell our dog "ok...pop a squat." It's like watching the extras from The Stepford Wives mill about. And, of course I'm sitting there thinking "If my hair looked like that, hun, I'd find a secluded corner to sit in and quit parading about like a donkey on parade."

(I always find it funny how when I say "my kids" a lot of people ask "are you a teacher?" No....just a former breeder, there are a lot of us out there. Those gays!)

My mother found me at the concert and sat beside me. Bless her heart, I DO NOT like her perfume she wears now. I long for the days of Beautiful. Or, hell, even Gorgio (although, to me, it smells like it's covering Vodka breath...I think it was Kitty Dukakis' fave...no, wait that was Oscar de la Renta...it covers the rubbing alcohol smell). For Christmas I got her some Beyond Paradise....it's not what she wants but what I want for her. Some people have to be poked and prodded into having better taste.

And...bless her heart, she bathed in the perfume she had on last night. My sinuses slammed shut like a beartrap....even before the first clarinet squeaked out of tune (ok....they KNOW they are going to be in a concert, it's not the time to be chinzy with reed). So....there I was holding my breath with my eyes watering. Couldn't get worse.....until the Nutcracker Suite started. My mom felt the need to name off the nationality of each dance as the music began. By the third one I was ready to mouth "I don't care" to her (because I, unlike her, don't talk during performances). But I didn't want to steal her glory, so I just rode it out.

I did have to tell her last night "oh, little closed minded woman" at one time. Those foreigners....gotta love 'em. Well...her at least...she's my momma.

Speaking of my momma.... She calls me at work today about something real random and talks for like 10 minutes. Typically when I call her about something important, I can barely finish the first sentence and she's like "ok, goodbye" click. Many a time I have stood there with my mouth hanging open thinking "I KNOW I was not just dis'd by my momma!"

Randomness (like that wasn't already):

What is up with all the old people on the road lately? Did they start a new open-door policy at the Old Folks' Home? And...why do they feel the need to drive slow in the left lane on the highway. As I pass and glare, I picture my parents driving the car....and feel HORRIBLE. But it passes and I want to ram their asses into the median.

Why is it they run you over at the mall, knocking all the Gap bags and AE totes outta your hands, while they are speed-walking....and yet drive like they have died and are rolling to a stop?

More random:

I thought my hair looked really good today. Then I started to worry that it looked more like I was President of the Hair Club for men. Then someone at work told me that my hair looked great today ( wasn't even fishing...she just offered it up). I felt good for about 5 minute. Then I looked at her hair and started to worry. I keep wanting to ask her if she thinks her looks great too....give me something to gauge the compliment by.

But it's Friday (praise Jebus), and me and my baby havin' Vegan Tacos for din-din....life don't get much better than this. :)

(you owe me a scarf picture...I'm just paying it forward)

Stayin' inside the lines

2005-11-30T08:58:00.000-08:00

This morning on my way to work I thought about a coloring book we put together in the first grade. It was “My Book Of Famous People.” Ok….the only thing I can think is that my life was flashing before my eyes. Which adds up, since right after that, traffic totally stopped and I almost bought the car in front of me (and the car behind me ended up beside me on the shoulder).

Two things trace back to that damn coloring book (which I still have somewhere…packed away and never unpacked, move after move).

There is a picture I colored of Miss Shirley Temple. I apparently chose to outline her teeth with a black crayon.

The teacher’s comment was “MARK, WHAT HAPPENED TO HER TEETH?!!!!!”

Firstly, now I see why, to this day, I HATE when people use multiple exclamation marks. It’s just rude. Period. My last boss always wrote messages on post-it notes and put multi exclamation marks. I wanted to cram them right up his…..

Secondly, I don’t color outside the lines. I stay inside the lines…..and play it safe. And yet choose to use a black crayon. What’s that about? I don’t know…maybe to emphasis that I am inside the lines. Or maybe to say “Screw You, I’m inside the lines….whatchagonnadobitch?”

To answer the teacher’s question, “MARK, WHAT HAPPENED TO HER TEETH?!!!!!”

My guess would be she didn’t brush the damn things.

(and to think...it only took me 33 years to think that one up)

2005-11-18T12:03:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I was filling out a little survery --- which, in all honesty, I live my life to do. It asked about overused phrases. I realized that all I use is overused phrases. I'm like a Chatty Cathy doll, I only know 5 phrases and use them over and over throughout the day. Only, it's more like a Potty Mouth Patty doll.

Potty Mouth Patty's phrases consist of:
whatchagonnadobitch
I'm not impressed
You wanna know what the f*ck about that (recently pulled from the archives)
booty check
ok, am I on crack or ....
and then there is....
shut the f*ck up (usually under my breath, while at work...and you have to get a full lip curl on the "f")
and, for those times when "I'm not impressed" just doesn't do the trick, there is THE stare that says SO much more (and could win a stare off, hands down).

So, if one of those is not an appropriate response (or, sometimes even when it is inappropriate), then it's likely I won't respond to you.

I realize Potty Mouth Patty seriously needs her mouth washed out with soap. I need to start carrying a bar of Dial on me.

I'm friendly....dammit....

2005-11-09T06:54:00.000-08:00

I'm friendly dammit...just misunderstood.

Ok. I pass a coworker today and say "HEY." Totally ignored. I ask her where another coworker is. Totally ignored again. Raising my voice "I SAID HELLOOO." Finally, it registers.

What is wrong with this picture? (I aks her) You have a "smiley face" and I don't.....but I am SOOO totally friendlier than you.

I'm friendly people, dammit.

Having to raise my voice to be heard makes me think of my childhood. I was raised in a house of women (except for my dad, of course...but he wasn't there too often), and a house of loud German and/or half-German women none the less. LOUD peeps. So, I was used to being talked over.

I am accused of being too quiet. Maybe the rest of the world is just too damn loud. :)

I ain't stupid.....many a time I have seen how my one sister's really big mouth has gotten her into trouble. Silence is golden...it keeps your ass outta trouble.

Now, whenever my coworker passes, she says (real loud and overexaggerated like) "HI MARK."

I'm not impressed.

I've Sealed My Fate......

2005-10-31T12:38:00.000-08:00

....I will never ever get a "smiley face" recognition at work. One little lapse into a moment of evil, and I have been reminded, again, why I am not a smiley face co-worker.

Someone I work with is on Prednisone for a rash. She is worried she is ballooning up (common effect of Prednisone). I was like "oh my God, what if you start to look like Jerry Lewis." I know this is Pure Evil....but just the thought of it made me laugh to the point of tears (making it even more evil). Then I, through my tears, had to find a picture on the internets to laugh at.

So....had I sealed my fate yet? Well, I wanted to make sure...so, then I was like,

"ya know....like punk'nhead."

So, now everyone is calling her Pumpkinhead (timely for Halloween at least).

And....we are having a Level Orange Hostility Alert whenever I walk past.

A Poem....by W

2005-10-28T06:36:00.000-07:00

This is a poem made up entirely of actual quotations from George W. Bush, arranged, for "aesthetic" purposes, by Washington Post writer Richard Thompson. A wonderful poem like this is too good not to share. A testament to literacy in the age of Every Child Left Behind.

MAKE THE PIE HIGHER!

I think we all agree, the past is over.

This is still a dangerous world.

It's a world of madmen and uncertainty

And potential mental losses.

Rarely is the question asked

Is our children learning?

Will the highways of the Internet

Become more few?

How many hands have I shaked?

They misunderestimate me.

I am a pitbull on the pant leg of

opportunity.

I know that the human being

And the fish can coexist.

Families is where our nation finds hope,

Where our wings take dream.

Put food on your family!

Knock down the tollbooth!

Vulcanize society!

Make the pie higher!

Make the pie higher!

(Pass this on. Help cure Mad Cowboy disease)

Statute of Limitations

2005-10-19T14:05:00.000-07:00

Ok, there should be some sort of statute of limitations placed on people being able to call up and say "hey, it's ME."

That just happened to me. And I'm like sitting there thinking "uh...noooo....I just spoke to my "me" about 15 minutes ago, and that AIN'T YOU."

So, I'm sitting there, knowing the voice, but thinking "me me me" and it hit me. Of course, it was a give away. The biggest Me-Me I know. The other giveaway was when the next line started with "I....." Me-Me.

So, I'm sitting there, drifting in and out...thinking "ok, I'm still on a high from my last call from my real "me".....and now this. Don't bring me down. Can you call me back when I'm paying bills, or trimming the dog's privates, or shoving bamboo shoots under my toenails....something, anything, where this will not bring me down."

This same person felt the need to send me emails for awhile. They were kinda like a newsletter "What's happening with ME..." drifting between fact and fiction and totally blurring the lines. I wanted to get off the mailing list. I thought about replying with just "unsubscribe" in the subject line.

Anyway....what's up with people thinking they can still call up and say "hey, it's me." Even my mother says, "this is your mother" to give me a hint (like the heavy German accent doesn't give it away anyway....at least she puts in the extra effort).

Oh well. Mission not accomplished. Still flying high from talking to my real "me." Although I still have no idea what the reason for the call from the "me" imposter was. (it's like really bad grammar to end a sentence in "was," isn't it?)

Embarrassed

2005-10-11T09:16:00.000-07:00

Ok, I am having to collect boxes AGAIN at work to move AGAIN. And I have to admit I'm a little bit embarrassed. I'm trying to do it on the sly. These people are probably thinking "God, get an RV already"...since I seem to keep moving. About the time all my mail starts actually reaching me again...it's time to move.

If you knew me, and how much I value my "personal space" you'd know how traumatic this is. Not that I don't love sharing "personal space" with someone else (that special someone)....just not the population as a whole. And I don't like to live in transit or out of boxes. I like to surround myself with my belongings. (although not like my parents. I often tell them "ok, you know you don't have to put everything you own on display, right.")

Friends laughed that my last apt. looked like Harper's Bizarre. They kept looking for price tags on everything (I told them everything was "best offer"...no price tags, that would be too tacky). I just can't help it that I have such good taste...it's a blessing, and a curse.

Near as I can tell, no one else is moving up here. So I don't have competition for the boxes. That can get ugly real quick. Battle for the boxes.

I have a lesbian (ex) friend that always packs in garbage bags when she moves. Sad part is that it doesn't surprise anyone.

Flash back: One move I made was kinda expedited and I got desperate..... I ended up hanging over the dumpster behind the nearest liquor store digging boxes out.....not a high point in my life :) Why I didn't buy boxes at Uhaul or something is one of life's greatest mysteries.

Somethin' Ain't Right

2005-10-10T10:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was bowling league. I had planned on winging it without a beer this week, but one of the guys on my team brought me a beer. Well, given my personal values, I can't let a beer go to waste. I mean, think about the drunks in lesser developed countries that would kill for that beer. Wasting it just isn't right.

I realized that whenever I get a strike or ...oh hell, I forget, whatever it's called when you knock'em all down on the second try....everyone cheers. Kinda like in the movie Rudy where everyone is chanting "Rudy Rudy Rudy." I guess they are just cheering on the underdog. I don't know whether to be happy about it....or insulted.

I'm like real stressed today and my stomach is in knots. Not real busy either. So, to get my mind off it, I decided to tour the building and take a mental inventory of who else does not have smiley faces on their nameplates. Ok, the list:

Unfriendly people at my company

1. Me
2.
3.
4.

Well,, come to find out that I am in good company. Sure, there are some freaks on the list, but not all. I feel better. My stomach's still knotted, but I'm coming to resolve that I may never have a smiley face.

weird

2005-10-06T09:26:00.000-07:00

Something about the cool weather is making me blue. I think it's because I equate it with the holidays.....nothing like walking out of Dillards into the cool evening air, weighted down by bags full of stuff FOR ME to make me think of the holidays. (When I shop it's "one for me, one for you, two for me, one for you....")

Once I met this guy online...we met once, for coffee. The next day he called and left a message saying "I feel blue."

Oh NO. When I meet someone I don't want to know they feel blue for at least a couple of years. j/k ....but that was a little extreme, I thought. I don't deal with moody people well, and so have a fear of them, knowing that I somehow get changed myself in their presence. He ended up being a fruitloop anyway. Problem solved.
Anyway. As I try to figure out why I feel "blue" ....it's not even "blue" but just "weird"....as in more weird than usual....and was trying to put my finger on what it was about. I keep having flashblacks to shopping for Christmas decorations at Super Target last year. Last year I could buy whatever I wanted and put it wherever I wanted because it was mine mine mine. All about me. Actually it was more about endless possibilities, and I was in control. Never was I so excited about Christmas decorations....not since my first tree in my apartment after my divorce. The purple and pink one. Ok....the ornaments were purple, and the lights were SUPPOSED to be purple, but were SOOOO pink. What was supposed to be "Salute to TCU" become more blush and bashful. Somehow, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway...it was mine, right or wrong......mine.

This year I don't have that feeling of endless possibilities, or control. There is SO much going on, and I feel like it is all controlling me, instead of me controlling it.

Shallow time...... I LOVE when I am at the gym and "Buttercup" comes on my flashplayer. My fave part of Something about Mary was the karaoke at the end ... set to "Buttercup." That song just makes me smile...regardless. I'm sure I am the only person in the world that has "Buttercup" on their flashplayer. Real men don't listen to "Buttercup."

I overheard someone's radio this a.m. with Kidd Kraddock. Talking about "Real Men." It was kinda irritating. Ok....my definition of a "real man" is someone who doesn't worry about eating quiche, or wearing pink, or jammin' to Buttercup on the elliptical....because they are secure in their identity, WHATEVER that might be.

:)

work stuff

2005-10-05T10:21:00.000-07:00

Ok. The next job interview I go on, when they ask if I have any questions, I'm gonna say "Oh, yes!"

"Do you reuse rubberbands?"

I HATE reusing rubberbands. And, yet that is the only thing in our supply drawer. (everytime I hear the word supplies, I think about the joke about the little Japanese soldier jumping out and screaming "supppliiiieeesss."). They break. They hurt. Everytime I am fixing to use a rubberband, I can feel myself wince in anticipation.

And everyone around me laughs. They say everytime they hear a rubberband break, or see a broken one coming flying from my desk, they know they are about to hear "dadgummit" followed by other muffled comments meant for no one else's ears.

I'd do like I did with the highlighters....I went out and bought the cutest little set of my very own....but housekeeping would probably just steal those too. Oh, I was hot. I went on patrol around the building to see if I spied them. Ok, I'm getting mad again just thinking about it...change the subject.

I was just reading medical records on this guy that received Viagra and a video from his Dr. (I didn't mention a name, so I am well within HIPAA regulations). Ok, if you are old enough to need Viagra, and yet need a video on what to do.....do you really need it after all?

There is a guy beside me at work that clips his fingernails which drives me nuts. Can he not do that while he is spending an hour in the bathroom reading the sports section in the morning? Oh, or here's an idea....DO IT ALL AT HOME. The thing he REALLY does that drives me nuts: every day at 10:00 sharp, after getting that 15 minutes of work done subsequent to the bathroom break, he eats yogurt. The sound of the "scrape scrape scrape" of the spoon on the bottom of the yogurt container makes me nuts. Where is people's work ethic? (of course I am sitting here writing this, but that 's beside the point...)

The lady on the other side of me is moving (homes, not her personal being....well I guess she is moving that too since she's at lunch), and having to call all of the utility people to bless them out. It's stressing me....stress-by-association. I finally put my ear buds in to block it out ("make it go awayyyy.") I realized later I still had them in, no music, and just overall being a gimp. Duh. Reminds me of when I had Lasik. They give you these sexy-ass goggles to wear at night so you don't rub your eyes and pull your cornea's off or something. You have to wear them for three nights. Well, on the sixth night I realized I was still putting them on every night out of habit. Again.....duh.

Last but not least. Someone was telling me that I was not very nice (which is SOOOO not true), I think it's just because I laugh at people (but never anything I wouldn't laugh about to their face, or about myself even). They said that is why I don't have a smiley face by my nameplate like everyone else (I swear, I think there are more "smiley face" names on the bulletin board than there are people that work here....and yet not me. Screw 'em) . Well, this one girl was saying "your like....." and goes on describing me in (inaccurate) detail. When she was finished, I told her she had just described Helga from Hey Arnold, and I didn't appreciate it. Then we laughed. (people up here get their jollies from being cruel to each other)

Gotta love it.

Good and Evil

2005-10-04T10:54:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I was up at the gym.

There is one guy up there that wears a tight little spandex muscle shirt. He does have some nice muscles...but he apparently thinks so too. Although he is a definite Monet....prettier from afar. He prances around. "LOOK AT ME."

uh....No.

I only stare at people that don't want to be looked at. I refuse to look at anyone that wants to be stared at. I don't play into that. Go look in a mirror and leave me alone. Like I alway say, "you think so much of yourself, you've got it covered. I don't have to think much of you." I would rather stare down and count the fibers in the carpet to keep from looking.

They have a new thing at the Y. You get a scan card and then a mini-scan card to put on your keychain. I won't give them my keys. I mean...I don't know these people. All they have to do is go outside, click the remote and my car will scream "me me...steal me or everything in me!"

So...once again I am accused of thinking everyone is bad, out to get me, blah blah blah. But no...I'm not negative, just realistic.

This leads to the same old debate on good vs evil. My b/f believes everyone is born good and then due to life events / circumstances / etc, will do evil things. I----being raised the good Christian that I am, believe some people are born EVIL and destined to burn in Hell. j/k...it's not for me to decide. But I do believe that some people are born evil. Period. If they had lived with Mother Teresa, she would have been known as Ole Drunkin' Teresa by the time they were through.

Nature vs nuture? I don't think you just happen upon a total lack of conscience, like you do a penny on the ground. or a Red Apple Sale at Foleys.

Now, my views are far from typical Christian though....Say, I don't think people like the gays are inherently evil. Not to say there are not evil gays.....there was one I came across in the bathroom at Mickey's the other night. But I don't think your gayity makes you evil. Ok....putting the flag away.

I'm more of a literal WWJD person. Well, except for laughing at people falling down in bars and stuff. But I consider myself more pseudo-evil.....it's not real, it just looks evil.

Oh hell....I'll toss a little politics in too while I'm at it.. Don't you find it ironic that the Republican party is considered the more Christian (or at least Religious....big difference there), but that Jesus would have undoubtedly been a Democrat?

I could be wrong, although that does not happen often.

exciting weekend

2005-10-03T07:12:00.000-07:00

Friday night I went to Sardines. It was good. Good food, attractive waitstaff (for the most part....our waitperson was VERY attractive, that's all that matters). They had live music, but it was too loud. But that was ok, none of the people I was with were big talkers. When I'm the outgoing one in the group, you know you're in trouble. Personally, I think the little band should have warmed up in the kitchen or bathroom, or something. Listening to that while feeling guilting for scarfing down garlic bread was not enjoyable. The drummer started the warm up....to me it sounded like the table behind us was uneven and rocking back and forth Before I realized it was the drummer, I was ready to grab a matchbook and stick it under the table leg. bum.......bum.........bumbum........bum......What's that? That's not even warm up, that's a deathmarch. (yep, that's about as exciting as it got)

Saturday I went to the gym after a three day absence. Ok, I don't get this....I go every day and my weight ooches up from 172 to 180 (all muscle I'm sure), then I miss three days and am down to 170. How do you lose that much weight in a few days?

There was all sort of action outside for me to watch while I exercised. Little chi'rens playing soccer. That's always cute...the little tykes. But the best part was watching people walk past. There was a hole in the ground. I noticed that although not a single female tripped in it, every single male did. Hmmmm? It was hilarious. One guy had a blow out and threw his flipflop into the soccer field as he tried to not fall. I also noticed that all the african american ladies were pretty in pink....and yet all the white ladies were dressed to pick up cans on the side of the road. But none of them tripped.

And the girl at the concession stand had her chair set right beside the grill. It was HOT oustide...who would do that? I wanted to go out and move it for her since she apparently didn't have the sense to.

I enjoyed watching people trip...until this one little boy tripped, his soda pop flew through the air and all spilled out. He cried. I nearly joined in.

The best seat at Billy Bobs (believe me...this does tie in) is at the back left bar, first stool. The bar is on a platform, and EVERYONE trips coming up that step.... and that stool is front row seat. Some people try to catch themselves and take off running. Others just go with it and fall. Nothing better than a big ole bubba, holding his woman's hand, and taking her running with him, making her almost split her Rockies.

On the way home from the gym, I stopped at Walmart Neighborhood Market to buy toilet bowl cleaner. And got carded. For toilet bowl cleaner? Apparently people sniff it. Which is fine (not people sniffing it, but carding for it), but the little lady copped an attitude with me. Mistake. I have to admit, when I was cleaning the toilet, I lingered over it a little longer, embraced in the fumes. Didn't feel anything....except stupid.

Sunday went to get my hair cut. Uncle Buck nearly ran over me on the way there. How do cars that produce more smoke than the California fires pass inspection?

Well, you'd think I enlisted in the army. Got it all cut off. Kinda high-and-tight, with a little extra on top for the spiking. The girl cutting it (Gloria) was like "oh, are you sure you want to do that?" and half way through asked,"are you ok? you're not upset are you?" And when she was finished, "that was painful...you had such nice hair." Thanks....I feel pretty now. I wanted to say "Girl! You're eatin' into your tip." I wish I was like Brad Pitt and could sell my hair on Ebay....I would have made a killing.

And....last night was bowling league. I bowled 119, 97 and 93. You may think "YOU SUCK!!!" But since I've been known to bowl in the 40's....I was happy. Especially since they had just oiled the lanes and I was having issues with greasy balls. The guys we opposed (or versed, as my kids say) were real nice and funny. I hate it when it's a team of mean girls.

The weekend that was....

fingernail alert

2005-09-30T10:53:00.000-07:00

I HATE I-35! If there are any hold ups, you might as well grab your sack lunch, pull into the median and have a picnic...cuz you ain't a goin' no where. Ok...and the people that ignore the big red X on the sign over their lane, and the lane closed signs...and speed past--- Would Karma not dictate that they get stuck in the closed lane? People who think they're entitled suck.

I had to get my oil changed at lunch. I HATE going anywhere mechanics are. I'm not sure why. Maybe I feel inadequate, less manly, or whatever. Well, I thought it would be without incident. But as I drove away, I saw something on the passenger seat....looked like a little goosedown feather. I picked it up. IT WAS A FINGERNAIL. Not the whole fingernail, just a clipping (but a big clipping...they need to clip more often). I was so gagged. I still shudder thinking about it. I don't know if they, like, clipped their fingernails/toenails while they were in there, or if it came off the vacuum hose...and was out of some other person's car (which is a whole other issue). Ok, not that it matters, but two of the guys were cute (one kinda goth cute) and the other---not so much.

When the non-goth cute guy was checking me out (at the cash register...not up-and-down) I noticed he was missing a whole fingernail (the only one that didn't have oil up under it) I know it's not his fault....but still. It just bugs me. And it reminds me of a friend of a friend (a friend once removed?) who I went boating with. Her toenails looked like cornflakes. Ok, I know it is a medical condition, and that being said, it is just EVIL to laugh about it.

The jeans I have on today have flip and button pockets in the back. My billfold won't fit, so I have to carry it around like a little purse. It makes me want to sachet when I walk. (just trying to create a visual)

I was helping my dad with something last night. Something came up about the year 1988. He said, "I remember it like it was yesterday." I said, "I do too....problem is I can't remember yesterday." What is that about? Is it stress? Am I alone in this? I think all the preservatives and chemicals in everything kills our brain cells.

On that happy note....

My, don't you look nice today!

2005-09-29T11:27:00.000-07:00

I'm trying to be extra nice today, and be a blessing to all around me! So I am telling everyone "my, don't you look nice today." (like Eddie Haskell) I'm just having to be careful and catch them on the way to the bathroom or something, I don't want them to overhear me telling other people the same thing....and make them feel less special.

What's up with people IM'ing you and asking "what are you wearing?" Geez. Even if I concentrated really hard and focused on south-of-the-border, the thought of someone sitting at their computer in undies, or less, doesn't do a dern thing for me.

This morning I looked out of the shower just long enough to see my b/f with my rotary clippers shoved up his nose trimming nose hairs. I USE THESE TO TRIM MY UPPER LIP! If my facial hair gets to close around my mouth, I mess with it all day long, making Jim Carey faces. But Lord knows what else has been in my mustache, and I didn't even know it. Gag. I'm glad I don't have to kiss me.

I have this ritual (that's a much nicer word than some) that when I come out of the bathroom at work, I check my zipper again. I do it inside the bathroom also. I don't know why I perform this ritual again when I come out the door. Well, today I come face to face with someone....and where is my hand.... How embarrassing.
I have four colognes I just LOVE....Ralph Lauren Romance Silver, Estee Lauder Pleasures, Estee Lauder Beyond Paradise, and Christian dior Fahrenheit. Today I borrowed one to wear...Joop Jump. It ain't right. It smells like a cigar shop. If I still wore contacts, they would be burning (that's how I used to gage what colognes I liked, the ones that didn't give me a pounding headache and teary,red eyes). I'm ready to go and wash it off with handtowels in the bathroom. I don't know if I can smell this all day.

All the colognes I wear are men's. (thank you very little....now, undies is a different story...j/k, silky feeling stuff grosses me out, just like pruney fingers do) It's funny, all the lesbians I know wear men's cologne, but none of the gay men wear perfumes. What's that about? Everytime I have a new cologne on, the lady beside me wants to run out and get her girlfriend the same cologne. I just find that interesting. Hmmmm.

I had just about decided to get a haircut. I thought growing it out would make me look younger. I've had an epipheny: It doesn't. Problem: the guy up here that is always copying me just got his cut, and I will NOT copy him. It would throw off the entire balance in the world. I do like the way the back kinda is curly and flips up, but that is SOOO last season (last season of Queer Eye, that is). Last night I put a twist-tie in the top ofmy hair (believe me...that's not weird for me) like a little bow. I was called Bam-Bam. Ok, I don't like to nit-pick (ok, that's a gross word....is that like monkeys picking nits--fleas?), but would that not be Pebbles, not Bam Bam? Just like the time my ex-boyfriend said he had eyebrows like Ernie.....well, actually, Ernie has no eyebrows, but Bert has a uni-brow. Am I the only one that checks the facts before I make statements?) Anyway....I hate decisions.

Ok, my mom just almost freaked me out. She forward me one of those emails where you fill out questions "20 things about me" I was thinking , "ok, I do NOT want to know these things about you, mother." Not a problem, she forwarded it completely blank with no answers. Sad part is....I am her son, and would SO do that also. I have a blonde soul.

Into the Deep End....

2005-09-28T10:50:00.000-07:00

Ok...I'm fixin' to go off the deep end....but don't worry, I'll drift back up to the shallow...

Last night I went to one of my kid's football games. He did really good. He was like tight end, or running back, or wide receiver, or...oh, hell, I don't know. Whoever runs along the outside edge during offense. (ok, I just emailed my ex-wife to ask what role he played-----we make out much better emailing because if we talk, we both end up thinking the other has a "tone" in their voice-----anywho, she said the "role" was wide receiver----so I did pretty good).

As I sat there amongst all the other parents, I got that same old feeling I have sadly enough grown accustomed to. I don't fit in anymore. I used to be a Stepford Husband....now I am an outsider.
I don't want to stare at the other father's butts....and yet it is just too painful to look at most of the women---those hairstyles!! One of them looked like Teenwolf (part I, not II). So, I don't stare at people, I just watch the game (what a concept!) Ok, out in Aledo, you have Old School and New School. Old School are the folks that have been out there forever, or moved out there to truly enjoy the country. New School are the Professionals that FW finally said, "you're too damn snooty, get the f*** outta town! East, West...we don't care!!"....the ones that want to move to the country, and then destroy it because it doesn't have enough amenities. Old School show up to their kid's sports games in shorts, T's and flipflops. New School show up in black leather mini skirts, stilleto's and dangly earrings. Even though I was raised out there, and should be able to stake claim.....I feel I am making the transformation from Old School to New School. Make it STOP!

Anyway....what's weird is, I don't fit in with my "old" life and yet don't really fit in with my "new" one either. I feel like I am always in a transitional period...in a state of flux. Which stresses me (kinda like when Julia Robert's husband on Sleeping With the Enemy saw that the veggie cans were messed up)....I like things all tidy and tied with a little pink bow. I used to at least fit in where ever I went...even, say, the local Walmart (this is National Rag on Walmart Week). Now, I am like "ok, the locals are blocking the aisle, what are we going to do now? Push through them? eewwww!"

So....there I am feeling like little boy lost.....when the 3rd quarter comes along. The cheerleaders (7th graders....so they are not to that HORRIBLE teenage girl stage quite just yet) are on break. For some odd reason (there are lots of odd reasons in my life) they choose to sit all around me in the stands. So it is me....in a sea of cheerleaders. I felt like I was sitting on the school bus. Why Me? Why Here? Why Now? (isn't that a line from Titanic....just add "Rose" at the first of each question) Well, during the 4th quarter, the irritation subsides, and the sorrow sets back in.

Like an Alanis Morrisette song....Now I know who I'm not, I still don't know who I am

On the way out I stopped at the concession stand and got a diet coke. Their machine was screwed up and put too much syrup in, so it was extra sweet. Don't you LOVE it when that happens? So, it wasn't all bad.

All Over the Place

2005-09-27T06:32:00.000-07:00

Ok, Naomi Campbell had this to say about the way cokehead Kate Moss is being treated:

"Kate Moss is my friend ... I think it's like everybody is being bad to her"

KATE GOOD. PEOPLE BAD. Are they sure the quote came from Naomi and not her 2 year old child? Besides, Naomi....girl!....I didn't hear Kate taking up for you, "....every now and again people just need to be womped upside the head with a telephone."....ok, translation into supermodel dialogue "Naomi Good. People Bad." In summary.....WTF ?

Today at lunch I was behind this girl that was bustin' a move in her purple Ford Focus. Girl was gettin' down (or else a bee had just flown in her car). So, seeing the K104.5 sticker on the back of the Focus....I decided to take a little look-see at what was happenin' on down the radio dial. Well, I must admit. She was good. She hip'd when it was hip'n time....and she hop'd when it was hop'n time. She must have not liked the next song though....she waved her hand once and didn't bustanother move. I normally would have been bust'n it with her...but my hands were full. Of Mega m&m's. After my traumatic trip to Walmart yesterday, when I nearly lost my precious, precious life (ok, ok.... bruised my precious, precious right hand) in the parking lot... Mega m&m's were my comfort food. Now, I am used to eating my nuts in a protective candy shell, so I KNOW....these MEGA m&m's were no bigger than usual. Mega my ass. Bull puck! Total misrep! Of course I bought the bag that's about the size of a body pillow. I ate 1/3 of them at lunch yesterday....then when I awoke from the sugar-coma, I ate another 1/3 on the way home (they were all soft from being in the car all afternoon.....like the little girl's gummy bears on Ferris Bueller). Then I didn't feel so good. I moaned through my cardio workout up at the gym. Not only was I regurging the m&m's, but I was beside someone that was smellin' good'n'ripe....with the fan blowing it my way ( coochie ) It was more than anyone should be asked to take. Where was the Disinfectant Cloud I was in a couple of days ago?

I wish I could get the panic button disconnected on my car remote. The only use it serves is to make me look even more stupid than I normally do. I'm always setting it off. And....for some reason (mental block), I always pop the trunk open when I am getting gas. They should put the gas cap release and trunk buttons on opposite sides of the car or something. The little pictures on each just don't seem to work for me.
Once I was sitting in the Taco Hell drive-through in a rental car. I didn't even know it had a trunk release button....and accidentally hit it. I thought the car behind me hit me. I was like "Oh NO she di'unt!"....then I hit it again, and thought the other car was ramming me. I was ready to get out and have a throw-down....but as I was opening the door, I hit the button again and realized what a dumbass I am.

Tonight I gots to shave my sideburns...I'm starting to feel like Grandpa Munster.

....and I finished the bag of m&m's at lunch today..... somethin' don't feel right....

.....and yet another reason I hate Walmart....

2005-09-26T07:08:00.000-07:00

....and old people scare me......

Why do I insist on doing things I know are wrong? Today....I went to Walmart. WRONG!! I hate Walmart. It is the nastiest store on the face of the earth, except for maybe J&R's grocery over in Haltom City....which smells like old goat cheese when you walk in. So, for some reason I can only attribute to karma...I go to Walmart to get my parents an anniversary card. Why not Target, Walgreens, CVS? Hell, I don't know. (well, I actually do...and it has to do with Gretchen Wilson...so I'd rather not talk about it).

So, with love in my heart, there I am walking up the row in the parking lot (I usually park way out so I can get some exercise on the way in.). Then.... grandma backs up and WHAM!! hits me. No....Not my car....my bodily person. She THEN starts looking around to see what the noise was. It was ME doing a Dukes of Hazzard move across the trunk of you car. Well, stunned....I keep walking toward the store, muttering "Oh My God" over and over again. Then I hear her driving up behind me. My first thought was to run.....run.....run like your hair is on fire. I look back only to see this huge dent across the front of her car.....presumably from her last victim. She pulls up to apologize. I think she was just scared she was going to be sent back to Shady Pines.

THEN I get in the store and some old dude rams me with his shopping cart. AND after he hit me says "excuse YOU." My nostrils flaired, but I kept my composure.

I spy a blue smock that says "How May I Help You?" Protect Me!!!! They're after me! Unplug all the round-a-bout scooters....they'll just run me down!

Ok....jump forward to my next stop...I come walking out of Best Buy and even though I had right of way stopped. I sensed another grandma. And sure enough this one was FLYING along in a mini van. Geez! Close call. If I had stepped one more step, by my calculations, she would still be dragging me under her van.....we'd be passing Garden Ridge about now.

I keep thinking these people have karma to look forward to. But then realize maybe all this was about my karma. What horrific thing have I done to be chased down all day long by the Geritol Brigade?