Do yourself a favor and test to see if you're colorblind. This test also features a check of how well your hearing is, so be sure to turn the volume up on your computer to the high setting.
Not so random, but I'm still musing.
Friday, October 29, 2004
Vision and Ear Test
Do yourself a favor and test to see if you're colorblind. This test also features a check of how well your hearing is, so be sure to turn the volume up on your computer to the high setting.
Thursday, October 28, 2004
Four Weeks To A Firmer Ass
In four weeks you'll probably be sitting down to a lovely candlelight dinner, complete with turkey, dressing and all the fixings. Chances are you'll dig into cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie with homemade whipped cream, sweet potatoes (or sweet potato casserole depending on where you live). On dining room tables across the country, gravy will flow like a river on that Thursday in November.
When you stick your fork into that big pile of mashed potatoes, please think a moment about all my hard work.
My job is a lot like one at a hospital or a police station: news is 24/7... even on the holidays. I would love it if the folks in Central Kentucky would take a break from killing each other, crashing into each other or robbing each other, but that's not gonna happen. So I have to report for duty (even on Thanksgiving) to make sure there's news to watch for everyone who wants to watch it on the holiday.
With that in mind, I've decided to kind of bypass all the holiday excitement next month and instead focus on my physique, rather than the festivities.
I am committing myself to a new gym routine. I am on day 6 of the schedule, and so far so good. My ass hurts like hell and my thighs, if they had vocal cords they wouldn't even be talking to me, but all in all I am doing pretty well. No one ever said a little pain was bad for ya, right? Besides, I've always been a little bit of a masochist.
It sucks so much that I have to work during the holidays. But at least my rock hard ass will look good when I walk across the newsroom.
When you stick your fork into that big pile of mashed potatoes, please think a moment about all my hard work.
My job is a lot like one at a hospital or a police station: news is 24/7... even on the holidays. I would love it if the folks in Central Kentucky would take a break from killing each other, crashing into each other or robbing each other, but that's not gonna happen. So I have to report for duty (even on Thanksgiving) to make sure there's news to watch for everyone who wants to watch it on the holiday.
With that in mind, I've decided to kind of bypass all the holiday excitement next month and instead focus on my physique, rather than the festivities.
I am committing myself to a new gym routine. I am on day 6 of the schedule, and so far so good. My ass hurts like hell and my thighs, if they had vocal cords they wouldn't even be talking to me, but all in all I am doing pretty well. No one ever said a little pain was bad for ya, right? Besides, I've always been a little bit of a masochist.
It sucks so much that I have to work during the holidays. But at least my rock hard ass will look good when I walk across the newsroom.
Wednesday, October 27, 2004
Denny Crane!
Celebrity sighting in little ol' Lexington?
You don't say...
Photo courtesy of the BBC
I spotted Captain Kirk at The Cafe at Joseph Beth Booksellers. I knew he had a horse farm close by, but I had no idea I'd ever see him. I had to share my server with Billy (who is apparently very attention needy in the way of restaurant service) Tuesday during lunch time. My server says he's in there all the time.
Mister Shatner passed by me on his way out of the bookstore, and my only suggestion for him is he starts wearing looser pants. The physique of his posterior was quite evident (but perhaps not attractive) in his selection of the day.
You don't say...
Photo courtesy of the BBC
I spotted Captain Kirk at The Cafe at Joseph Beth Booksellers. I knew he had a horse farm close by, but I had no idea I'd ever see him. I had to share my server with Billy (who is apparently very attention needy in the way of restaurant service) Tuesday during lunch time. My server says he's in there all the time.
Mister Shatner passed by me on his way out of the bookstore, and my only suggestion for him is he starts wearing looser pants. The physique of his posterior was quite evident (but perhaps not attractive) in his selection of the day.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
All Dressed Up, And No One To Go Home To
Why does everyone assume the pretty girl is always taken?
That's my question after a run-in with a clerk at Wal Mart Saturday.
***
I spent the day in the clubhouse at Keeneland, safe from the rain and dressed to the nines in my killer knee-high leather boots. It was a day of rubbing elbows with the hoity-toity set, and I loved every minute of it. I consider myself an expert at people watching... and my semi-annual trip inside the inner sanctum of the horsey set is a rare treasure I file away in my memories of ogling.
Keeneland has two parts to it... the clubhouse, and the part for everyone else. The "commoners side" (where I spend most of my time) has a come-as-you-are attitude with folks in blue jeans, khakis, and everything from t-shirts to casual button downs. It's the side where everyone's allowed to pretty much roll out of bed and wear what ever the hell they want for a day at the races.
image courtesy of Keeneland
The other side is the embodiment of formalities. Men must wear coat and tie, women are expected to wear dresses, skirts or nice suit pants. Denim would be enough to send some of those old biddies into cardiac arrest. Other folks may be intimidated by the high society set, but my mother is a Junior Leaguer so I grew up exposed to a wide array of social settings. Mom taught me well to say please and thank-you, which fork is the salad fork and how to be polite and charming around other folks who are polite and charming. I guess I feel equally comfortable with the upper crust as I do with those who eat Wonderbread.
So yesterday I put on my boots, a smart camel hair skirt, and a beautiful cream colored silk wrap over my wool, black turtle neck. It was a perfect disguise for my task of invading the Other side.
SO. Let me press fast forward. I wow everyone at tailgating with a special breakfast dish, catch up with an old friend whom I hadn't seen in years, and win $12.60 on a one dollar exacta bet (boxed, by the way. It's far safer).
The rain made for a sloppy track towards the end, so I popped up my black umbrella for my walk towards the car. I am a bit ambivalent about rainstorms. Sometimes I hate them because they hinder my plans to enjoy the great outdoors, but Saturday was different. The rainy weekend evening inspired me to cozy up inside and rest my aching feet (the boots) and equally hurting ass (squats and lunges at the gym Friday).
I walked into the nearest Wal-Mart with my whole Keeneland gettup on: the boots, the skirt. I had taken the wrap off and replaced it with a coat I had left in my car, this darling black quilted coat that hits right at the hips with these little zippers on either side... they're kind of popular around these parts in the way of classy little jackets. Needless to say, I looked VERY dressed up for a trip to the ol' Big Box Store.
Image courtesy of the California Observer
So I walk in to the store and head straight for the movies. I figure I can spend a little more and keep the movies I pick, instead of shelling out and returning them to a video rental place (no offense to the fine folks at Blockbuster). I settled on Sweet Home Alabama and Monster's Ball - both thumbs up in my book.
Anyway, after a swing through the frozen foods section for a pizza... I stood there and thought So this is my Saturday night. (Shrugs shoulders) Oh well. I made my way to the check-out line, and that's where the clerk got the hamster in my head running overtime.
She was heavy set and apparently has a heavy hand where eyeliner is concerned. Probably about 35 or so. I couldn't help but notice the various gold rings with little gem chips on so many of her fingers. I could tell she is patient and cautious when painting her pink, frosty fingernails. My clerk was probably on the new side because a thinner, younger girl stood beside her, making sure everything was punched in and swiped correctly. My lady with the eye-lined eyes appeared proud and busy with the task at hand, perhaps it was a new job she was thrilled to have, happily wearing that red, white and blue nametag. Working an honest job at the Wal-Mart check out line, bringing home a little money to call her own.
She easily scanned my two tapes (no, I haven't moved up to a DVD player yet) and veggie primavera pizza when she made what she perhaps considered an off handed comment, but to me it was a lightning rod that shot into my inner being.
"Movie night on a rainy night. I'm jealous. If only I had someone at home to snuggle with. All I got is two kids, and they don't even wanna hug me. Say I got cooties or something."
If only I had someone at home to snuggle with.
I thought about saying something as I handed over my sixteen bucks and change. For a fleeting moment I could have shared a moment with that lady with the rings on all her fingers, telling her I didn't have someone at home, either. I could have gushed that I was going to drive home to my little apartment and far too messy bedroom to hunker down with me, myself and I to watch my tapes and eat my frozen pizza.
Part of me wanted to share my singleness with the clerk, kind of like a secret handshake to an underground society folks don't mention they belong to. The other side of me won out though, shamefully keeping it hush-hush from this clerk pounding away on the register at Wal-Mart.
I gathered my new belongings and headed for the door, making my way to my broken but paid off VW Jetta. The whole ride home, my windshield wipers kept time as thoughts about what the clerk said raced through my mind. Why did she say that? Why did she assume I had someone to go home to? Was it because I was all dressed up? Does pretty girl equate taken in our society? What is this algebraic theory I've never heard of?
If this is the conclusion the clerk jumped to, I started wondering how many other people operate on this theory. Could this be a piece to the puzzle of why I'm still single?
That's my question after a run-in with a clerk at Wal Mart Saturday.
***
I spent the day in the clubhouse at Keeneland, safe from the rain and dressed to the nines in my killer knee-high leather boots. It was a day of rubbing elbows with the hoity-toity set, and I loved every minute of it. I consider myself an expert at people watching... and my semi-annual trip inside the inner sanctum of the horsey set is a rare treasure I file away in my memories of ogling.
Keeneland has two parts to it... the clubhouse, and the part for everyone else. The "commoners side" (where I spend most of my time) has a come-as-you-are attitude with folks in blue jeans, khakis, and everything from t-shirts to casual button downs. It's the side where everyone's allowed to pretty much roll out of bed and wear what ever the hell they want for a day at the races.
image courtesy of Keeneland
The other side is the embodiment of formalities. Men must wear coat and tie, women are expected to wear dresses, skirts or nice suit pants. Denim would be enough to send some of those old biddies into cardiac arrest. Other folks may be intimidated by the high society set, but my mother is a Junior Leaguer so I grew up exposed to a wide array of social settings. Mom taught me well to say please and thank-you, which fork is the salad fork and how to be polite and charming around other folks who are polite and charming. I guess I feel equally comfortable with the upper crust as I do with those who eat Wonderbread.
So yesterday I put on my boots, a smart camel hair skirt, and a beautiful cream colored silk wrap over my wool, black turtle neck. It was a perfect disguise for my task of invading the Other side.
SO. Let me press fast forward. I wow everyone at tailgating with a special breakfast dish, catch up with an old friend whom I hadn't seen in years, and win $12.60 on a one dollar exacta bet (boxed, by the way. It's far safer).
The rain made for a sloppy track towards the end, so I popped up my black umbrella for my walk towards the car. I am a bit ambivalent about rainstorms. Sometimes I hate them because they hinder my plans to enjoy the great outdoors, but Saturday was different. The rainy weekend evening inspired me to cozy up inside and rest my aching feet (the boots) and equally hurting ass (squats and lunges at the gym Friday).
I walked into the nearest Wal-Mart with my whole Keeneland gettup on: the boots, the skirt. I had taken the wrap off and replaced it with a coat I had left in my car, this darling black quilted coat that hits right at the hips with these little zippers on either side... they're kind of popular around these parts in the way of classy little jackets. Needless to say, I looked VERY dressed up for a trip to the ol' Big Box Store.
Image courtesy of the California Observer
So I walk in to the store and head straight for the movies. I figure I can spend a little more and keep the movies I pick, instead of shelling out and returning them to a video rental place (no offense to the fine folks at Blockbuster). I settled on Sweet Home Alabama and Monster's Ball - both thumbs up in my book.
Anyway, after a swing through the frozen foods section for a pizza... I stood there and thought So this is my Saturday night. (Shrugs shoulders) Oh well. I made my way to the check-out line, and that's where the clerk got the hamster in my head running overtime.
She was heavy set and apparently has a heavy hand where eyeliner is concerned. Probably about 35 or so. I couldn't help but notice the various gold rings with little gem chips on so many of her fingers. I could tell she is patient and cautious when painting her pink, frosty fingernails. My clerk was probably on the new side because a thinner, younger girl stood beside her, making sure everything was punched in and swiped correctly. My lady with the eye-lined eyes appeared proud and busy with the task at hand, perhaps it was a new job she was thrilled to have, happily wearing that red, white and blue nametag. Working an honest job at the Wal-Mart check out line, bringing home a little money to call her own.
She easily scanned my two tapes (no, I haven't moved up to a DVD player yet) and veggie primavera pizza when she made what she perhaps considered an off handed comment, but to me it was a lightning rod that shot into my inner being.
"Movie night on a rainy night. I'm jealous. If only I had someone at home to snuggle with. All I got is two kids, and they don't even wanna hug me. Say I got cooties or something."
If only I had someone at home to snuggle with.
I thought about saying something as I handed over my sixteen bucks and change. For a fleeting moment I could have shared a moment with that lady with the rings on all her fingers, telling her I didn't have someone at home, either. I could have gushed that I was going to drive home to my little apartment and far too messy bedroom to hunker down with me, myself and I to watch my tapes and eat my frozen pizza.
Part of me wanted to share my singleness with the clerk, kind of like a secret handshake to an underground society folks don't mention they belong to. The other side of me won out though, shamefully keeping it hush-hush from this clerk pounding away on the register at Wal-Mart.
I gathered my new belongings and headed for the door, making my way to my broken but paid off VW Jetta. The whole ride home, my windshield wipers kept time as thoughts about what the clerk said raced through my mind. Why did she say that? Why did she assume I had someone to go home to? Was it because I was all dressed up? Does pretty girl equate taken in our society? What is this algebraic theory I've never heard of?
If this is the conclusion the clerk jumped to, I started wondering how many other people operate on this theory. Could this be a piece to the puzzle of why I'm still single?
Friday, October 22, 2004
Brown Bag Lunch
From Friday's Feast
Appetizer
Name 3 things that you are wearing today.
Chunky black platform shoes
Silver hoop earrings
The infamous off the shoulder shirt
Soup
Who was the last person you hugged?
Actually it was the woman who I refer to as Betty White in the above linked post about the infamous off the shoulder shirt. She told me her dog has cancer, and I felt really bad for her. I know how important her dog is to her (he's pretty much her replacement for a child) so my heart just sank for her when she told me he was sick.
Salad
What do you like to order from your favorite fast food place?
Actually... I'm just about to run out for a bite. I'm split between a big ass burrito (at Moes, Qdoba or Chipotle) or a juicy bacon cheeseburger. Milkshakes are always a top pick, too.
Main Course
What time of day do you usually feel most energized?
Now that I get to work at 6:30 AM... probably around 9:30-10:00 am. Uusually I'm all systems go after a I have a few cups of coffee running through my system.
Dessert
Using the letters in your first name, write a sentence.
Kisses always trip emotion.
Oooh... I liked that!
Have a great weekend, all! I'm heading to the track tomorrow (despite my weather girl's prediction of a deluge). I hope I don't lose my shirt!
Appetizer
Name 3 things that you are wearing today.
Chunky black platform shoes
Silver hoop earrings
The infamous off the shoulder shirt
Soup
Who was the last person you hugged?
Actually it was the woman who I refer to as Betty White in the above linked post about the infamous off the shoulder shirt. She told me her dog has cancer, and I felt really bad for her. I know how important her dog is to her (he's pretty much her replacement for a child) so my heart just sank for her when she told me he was sick.
Salad
What do you like to order from your favorite fast food place?
Actually... I'm just about to run out for a bite. I'm split between a big ass burrito (at Moes, Qdoba or Chipotle) or a juicy bacon cheeseburger. Milkshakes are always a top pick, too.
Main Course
What time of day do you usually feel most energized?
Now that I get to work at 6:30 AM... probably around 9:30-10:00 am. Uusually I'm all systems go after a I have a few cups of coffee running through my system.
Dessert
Using the letters in your first name, write a sentence.
Kisses always trip emotion.
Oooh... I liked that!
Have a great weekend, all! I'm heading to the track tomorrow (despite my weather girl's prediction of a deluge). I hope I don't lose my shirt!
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Those Sugar Plum Fairies Have Been Busy... But Not As Busy As Britney
This stunning image brought to you by Tiffany
My mind started wandering again.
You have no idea what danger that can lead to. There's lots of uncharted, murky territory between my ears that has yet to be navigated. My synapses, however, are quite successful in maneuvering the well-worn thought paths that lead to Weddingsville. I've earned about a gazillion frequent flyer miles while taking trips there via La La Land.
Forget the damned right hand ring. That's some sorry consolation prize for chicks who want to get married. The only diamond that makes it to one of these ten digits pounding on the keyboard... is the diamond my one true love will buy me someday after we meet and fall in love.
Oh barf.
Speaking of marriages... it turns out Britney Federline (nee Spears) has officially sealed the deal with her betrothed (despite exchanging vows last month). Malaysia's The Star Online (c'mon, isn't THAT your first source for breaking news?) is reporting the Pop Princess arrived on a tropical Fiji hideaway for her honeymoon Monday. Spears-Federline (do you think Britney is the type to hyphenate?) apparently filed an official marriage cert. with Los Angeles officials last week, promptly within the 90 day time limit, a spokeswoman was quick to point out.
Photo courtesy of mtv.com
The delay came after legal wranglings between attorneys over just how much Mr. Spears (maybe Kevin will take Britney's name?) would come out on top with should the two dissolve the marriage (gasp! No! That will NEVER happen).
Britney is quoted in Australia's Sunday Times as saying on her website "My prerogative right now is to just chill and let all of the other overexposed blondes on the cover of Us Weekly be your entertainment."
Congratulations Ms. Federline (maybe she's a Ms. kind of gal...), you managed to plug your latest song, name drop a mag you get a lot of face time on and insult your fan base in one fell swoop.
Batting A Thousand
Image courtesy of classicphotos.com
WOO HOO!!
I've had over a thousand hits on my blog! Thanks to all of you who check in from time to time... you're the reason I spill all my juicy details (and some not so juicy...)
WOO HOO!
Boston is going to the World Series! Finally Beantown shakes off the Bambino's Curse.
WOO HOO!
I had a really great horoscope last week that I just read about yesterday. It really is the little things that make me happy.
From Rob Brezny's Free Will Astrology
SAGITARIUS: Events in the coming week will bring the beginning of the end of an influence you love to hate. They will also usher in a turning point for your relationship with a person you should treat better than you do. And that's just a fraction of the many adventures headed your way, Sagittarius. Finales and climaxes will be in the works everywhere you turn, and you will get one last chance to fix a long-standing mess before it explodes. Is that dramatic enough for you? No? You want even more? OK, then, how's this: You may finally realize what you want to be when you grow up.
This guy is SO on the money... every time.
And finally...
WOO HOO!
I just got some black leather knee-high boots. I am one step closer to becoming the Sex Machine I've always dreamed of being... Or at least looking like I've joined a biker gang.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
Mental Vacation
Stressful day. Trying to let my thoughts wander towards home as a stress reliever.
New England is an INCREDIBLE place to visit in Autumn.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Line Two Is Still Taking Calls...
I was catching up on my favorite blogs when I caught Funqi's plea for a Halloween costume suggestion.
I, too, could use some help for the Bewitching Hour.
I'm having a party on the 30th and you're all invited, as long as you can make it here to Lexington. Fear not, those who are a bit squeamish of visiting the Bluegrass, for I will have a complete recap of all the scandal on this lil' blog.
Until that time, though, I need to think up a costume. And fast.
The party, seeing as it will be a bunch of news types, is a theme of "News Stories 2004." The humor would probably be lost on anyone else but a bunch of journalists, but take my word for it, we're gonna have a ball pointing our fingers at Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunctions and Martha Stewarts in jump suits.
I'm a huge fan of Halloween and always put a lot of time and thought into my costume (over the top, sensational and hugely elaborate would be prime descriptions for previous creations), and I think this year should be no different.
I'm looking for a costume that will be clever, perhaps a bit provocative (gasp!) and of course playing within the bounds of "News Stories 2004." They can be national or local events, though I'm not expecting y'all to have any idea of what's been going on in this little burg (brownie points if you do, though!)
The lines are open, just waiting for your suggestions...
I, too, could use some help for the Bewitching Hour.
I'm having a party on the 30th and you're all invited, as long as you can make it here to Lexington. Fear not, those who are a bit squeamish of visiting the Bluegrass, for I will have a complete recap of all the scandal on this lil' blog.
Until that time, though, I need to think up a costume. And fast.
The party, seeing as it will be a bunch of news types, is a theme of "News Stories 2004." The humor would probably be lost on anyone else but a bunch of journalists, but take my word for it, we're gonna have a ball pointing our fingers at Janet Jackson wardrobe malfunctions and Martha Stewarts in jump suits.
I'm a huge fan of Halloween and always put a lot of time and thought into my costume (over the top, sensational and hugely elaborate would be prime descriptions for previous creations), and I think this year should be no different.
I'm looking for a costume that will be clever, perhaps a bit provocative (gasp!) and of course playing within the bounds of "News Stories 2004." They can be national or local events, though I'm not expecting y'all to have any idea of what's been going on in this little burg (brownie points if you do, though!)
The lines are open, just waiting for your suggestions...
Alert: I Almost Missed a Trend
Image courtesy of the Lance Armstrong Foundation website.
Have I been under a rock? In a coma? In a drunken stupor?
No, No, and thanks to God, No.
So why then am I only finding out about these LIVESTRONG bracelets now?
Apparently they're a fundraiser for Lance Armstrong's foundation, which helps fight cancer through education and advocacy. The bracelets are yellow rubber and cost a dollar each, you can find them on their website or at Niketown stores. Nike is helping to push the bands, which are being used to assist a five million dollar campaign for the cyclist's charity. The tennis shoe maker says it will pony up another cool mil. if everyone and their mother (or at least five million people) buy the wristbands.
I discovered these bracelets after receiving one as a favor at a wedding I attended last night (no, I did not catch the bouquet). The bride and groom had opted to make a charitable donation in honor of all the guests, and placed one of these bracelets at each place setting as a small token.
The folks at my table informed me these bracelets are the hottest things going these days, with even the presidential candidates sucking up to the sensitive set, wearing the golden accessory on their respective campaign trails.
Photo Courtesy of the AP
Celebrities aren't out out of the loop on this one, either. Bruce Willis, Sheryl Crow and Robin Williams have all been spotted with LIVESTRONG on the wrist. So have Pamela Anderson, Matt Damon and Bono.
Do a Google search and you'll notice some criticism of the bands, saying it makes trendy what people should already be doing: giving to charity. Others say this is a commercial bandwagon for folks to outwardly display their acts of kindness for all the world to see. Still others wag a shameful finger at Nike, saying their association with the bracelet is a shoddy attempt at a reputation renovation.
I say nay to all those naysayers.
It's charity, plain and simple.
If a simple piece of yellow rubber incites others to give their money to a good cause, more power to it. As for Nike, well, I'm not so down with their child labor practices, but it appears they're trying to put the best rubber-soled foot forward. And If some folks wanna feel cool and braggadocious about where they give their money, let 'em. No one said you had to be quiet about your contributions. Sure, that would be the classy way to act, but one needs to spend no more than five minutes in a Starbucks to know that class is going the way of handwritten thank you notes (another travesty, in my book).
I am proudly wearing my LIVESTRONG bracelet.
And I just bought ten more.
Friday, October 15, 2004
Dinner Is Served
From Friday Feast
Appetizer
What is your favorite beverage?
Probably a big fatty milkshake, although Diet Coke makes vastly more frequent trips down the ol' esophageous
Soup
Name 3 things that are on your computer desk at home or work.
A Statue of Saint Clare (Patron Saint of all Television Writers, Workers and News Broadcasts)
A Picture of my family (about 6 years old though!)
One of those Page-A-Day Calendars with pictures of Italy... my next fantasy trip.
Salad
On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being highest), how honest do you think you are?
About a 9. My parents say I'm honest to a fault. I'll admit... I've got no poker face, though I have told a couple white lies (mostly to refrain from hurting another's feelings)
Main Course
If you could change the name of one city in the world, what would you rename it and why?
I'll probably think of a far better choice hours or days from now... but right now I would have to go with Louisville... only because so many people have trouble saying it. Loo-uh-vill, Luhll-vuhl.. Lew-ee-vill... there are so many options. I guess I'd rename it Cracker Ass City (just kidding, that's the nasty Kentucky Wildcat fan in me).
Dessert
What stresses you out? What calms you down?
What stresses me out: being hen-pecked at work. Nagging all the time. No assistance... lots of gestapo type questioning with very accusatory tones. Lots of C-Y-A going on by Those Who Make Decisions Without Thinking... and I sometimes end up with the finger pointed at me.
What calms me down... spending time with good friends and eating comfort food like ice cream, mashed potatoes and other "cozy" grub.
Appetizer
What is your favorite beverage?
Probably a big fatty milkshake, although Diet Coke makes vastly more frequent trips down the ol' esophageous
Soup
Name 3 things that are on your computer desk at home or work.
A Statue of Saint Clare (Patron Saint of all Television Writers, Workers and News Broadcasts)
A Picture of my family (about 6 years old though!)
One of those Page-A-Day Calendars with pictures of Italy... my next fantasy trip.
Salad
On a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being highest), how honest do you think you are?
About a 9. My parents say I'm honest to a fault. I'll admit... I've got no poker face, though I have told a couple white lies (mostly to refrain from hurting another's feelings)
Main Course
If you could change the name of one city in the world, what would you rename it and why?
I'll probably think of a far better choice hours or days from now... but right now I would have to go with Louisville... only because so many people have trouble saying it. Loo-uh-vill, Luhll-vuhl.. Lew-ee-vill... there are so many options. I guess I'd rename it Cracker Ass City (just kidding, that's the nasty Kentucky Wildcat fan in me).
Dessert
What stresses you out? What calms you down?
What stresses me out: being hen-pecked at work. Nagging all the time. No assistance... lots of gestapo type questioning with very accusatory tones. Lots of C-Y-A going on by Those Who Make Decisions Without Thinking... and I sometimes end up with the finger pointed at me.
What calms me down... spending time with good friends and eating comfort food like ice cream, mashed potatoes and other "cozy" grub.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
To Call, Or Not To Call, That Is the Question
I am an impatient person.
I have a hard time waiting for lots of things, but waiting for the phone to ring is the absolute worst. The trouble is "The Rules" say I can't initiate phone calls or e-mail... I can only return them.
I don't know what to make of that.
I mean, really, I think some of these rules are idiotic. But I guess I'm so afraid of doing something stupid (or overly aggressive) that I'm actually following them.
Who's the idiot now?
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Red Bull, "The Rules", and the Dalai Lama
My weekend was full of contrasts.
I went on a retreat to Lebanon, Kentucky to cast out all of my impurities (there are a lot of 'em) and fill myself with relaxation, renewal and rejuvenation.
All the while I was stressing over a looming first date.
I was to meet "match.com John" Sunday night, and the anticipation was anything but relaxing. That's not to say I wasn't looking forward to meeting him (because I was) but I always get nervous by these kinds of things... you know... Meeting a total stranger, putting yourself out there and trying to convince them your great without being a jackass.
I also was a bit nervous because I didn't want John to think I was odd for not drinking. I am very secure in my sobriety, but I am still having a tough time broaching the subject with strangers... I always worry they're going to think I used to be a lush who slurred my words and lost my inhibitions 24-7 before I dried up.
24-2 would probably be more accurate.
Anyway... I ordered my ol' standby Red Bull and Cranberry
to which there was no question, no curiosity, no nothin'.
Whew! Primary stresses minimized. My worries then turned to whether this guy was actually interested in me... or whether he took one look at me and decided not.
Dumb sucker if he did, but I don't think that's a problem. Twice upon leaving he mentioned that we needed to go out again soon. I kind of just dismissed the comments as a polite way to end the date, but his interest was confirmed the next morning... when he sent me a follow up email... at 7:45 A.M.
He basically said "Thanks again... I hope I impressed you... We'll definitely do it again soon..."
So that's a good sign, right (this is where you can hear the insecurity in my voice)?
My dating strategy has changed drastically thanks to my mom and sister. For years I've always been the chaser... I can remember as far back as 2nd Grade... running around the playground chasing this cute little blonde boy I had a huge crush on. I've always been the chaser and I guess a closer examination of my dating history is enough proof to know it's not working.
Who the hell are these guys who says they like it when a girl asks them out? I've never met 'em.
Well anyway, my mom and sis long declared that I needed to get myself a copy of "The Rules." You know... it's the book that was all the rage a few years ago... telling chicks to not ask guys out, to not be prompt with phone call and email responses, and to basically be mysterious and a "creature unlike any other."
A part of me likes this strategy... because it's pretty obvious when a guy likes you: he asks you out. But another part of hates it only because I can't pursue any guy I'm interested in... I have to hang around like a wallflower until they ask me out.
So far I've done well following The Rules, and John seems to be responding, but we'll see.
***
I mentioned the retreat I went on prior to this nervewracking date, didn't I?
Well, it was really sweet. Some folks from my bible study went to a cabin owned by the mother of one of our friends. I was a little nervous before we went there... I'm not what you call a rustic chick. My idea of camping is a night at the Marriott (okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration... but not MUCH of one), so I was a little concerned about just how rugged this whole outing was gonna be.
Boy, was I all worked up for nothing.
We pulled up in the thick of darkness and a forest of trees to find an immense, incredible cabin. The whole thing was maybe 6000 square feet, complete with two beautiful full bathrooms, a hot tub and a kitchen Martha Stewart would envy (well at this point, just about anything would be better than prison.)
The front of the cabin was graced with a serene pond with a nice little dock and a campfire pit nearby. With the trees changing... showing off a spectacular show of color including ambers, crimsons, tobacco greens, gold and cinnamon, the place was a little slice of heaven hidden in Lebanon.
I thanked Laura for graciously letting us visit this serene spot and she mentioned how her mom got the place not just for family, but as a nice little retreat for church groups and priests and such. Laura then slipped in how the Dalai Lama once used the cabin as spot for his own little personal retreat.
How cool is that? Hopefully a little bit of his Zen rubbed off on me (does he even believe in Zen?)
For all my meditation over the weekend, I still haven't found the answers for how to act on date two. I guess we'll find out when I get there.
I went on a retreat to Lebanon, Kentucky to cast out all of my impurities (there are a lot of 'em) and fill myself with relaxation, renewal and rejuvenation.
All the while I was stressing over a looming first date.
I was to meet "match.com John" Sunday night, and the anticipation was anything but relaxing. That's not to say I wasn't looking forward to meeting him (because I was) but I always get nervous by these kinds of things... you know... Meeting a total stranger, putting yourself out there and trying to convince them your great without being a jackass.
I also was a bit nervous because I didn't want John to think I was odd for not drinking. I am very secure in my sobriety, but I am still having a tough time broaching the subject with strangers... I always worry they're going to think I used to be a lush who slurred my words and lost my inhibitions 24-7 before I dried up.
24-2 would probably be more accurate.
Anyway... I ordered my ol' standby Red Bull and Cranberry
to which there was no question, no curiosity, no nothin'.
Whew! Primary stresses minimized. My worries then turned to whether this guy was actually interested in me... or whether he took one look at me and decided not.
Dumb sucker if he did, but I don't think that's a problem. Twice upon leaving he mentioned that we needed to go out again soon. I kind of just dismissed the comments as a polite way to end the date, but his interest was confirmed the next morning... when he sent me a follow up email... at 7:45 A.M.
He basically said "Thanks again... I hope I impressed you... We'll definitely do it again soon..."
So that's a good sign, right (this is where you can hear the insecurity in my voice)?
My dating strategy has changed drastically thanks to my mom and sister. For years I've always been the chaser... I can remember as far back as 2nd Grade... running around the playground chasing this cute little blonde boy I had a huge crush on. I've always been the chaser and I guess a closer examination of my dating history is enough proof to know it's not working.
Who the hell are these guys who says they like it when a girl asks them out? I've never met 'em.
Well anyway, my mom and sis long declared that I needed to get myself a copy of "The Rules." You know... it's the book that was all the rage a few years ago... telling chicks to not ask guys out, to not be prompt with phone call and email responses, and to basically be mysterious and a "creature unlike any other."
A part of me likes this strategy... because it's pretty obvious when a guy likes you: he asks you out. But another part of hates it only because I can't pursue any guy I'm interested in... I have to hang around like a wallflower until they ask me out.
So far I've done well following The Rules, and John seems to be responding, but we'll see.
***
I mentioned the retreat I went on prior to this nervewracking date, didn't I?
Well, it was really sweet. Some folks from my bible study went to a cabin owned by the mother of one of our friends. I was a little nervous before we went there... I'm not what you call a rustic chick. My idea of camping is a night at the Marriott (okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration... but not MUCH of one), so I was a little concerned about just how rugged this whole outing was gonna be.
Boy, was I all worked up for nothing.
We pulled up in the thick of darkness and a forest of trees to find an immense, incredible cabin. The whole thing was maybe 6000 square feet, complete with two beautiful full bathrooms, a hot tub and a kitchen Martha Stewart would envy (well at this point, just about anything would be better than prison.)
The front of the cabin was graced with a serene pond with a nice little dock and a campfire pit nearby. With the trees changing... showing off a spectacular show of color including ambers, crimsons, tobacco greens, gold and cinnamon, the place was a little slice of heaven hidden in Lebanon.
I thanked Laura for graciously letting us visit this serene spot and she mentioned how her mom got the place not just for family, but as a nice little retreat for church groups and priests and such. Laura then slipped in how the Dalai Lama once used the cabin as spot for his own little personal retreat.
How cool is that? Hopefully a little bit of his Zen rubbed off on me (does he even believe in Zen?)
For all my meditation over the weekend, I still haven't found the answers for how to act on date two. I guess we'll find out when I get there.
Thursday, October 07, 2004
What To Do With 25 Dollars
Help me spend 25 dollars.
You heard me right, I need advice on how to spend a 25 dollar Amazon gift certificate.
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I totally did not expect receiving it... but now that I have it... I have no earthly idea how to use it.
You may not realize what a phenomenon this is: me having trouble spending money.
No need to call a doctor, I am feeling just fine. I've scanned their fine website and I have no earthly idea what to select as my very own. Books, CDs, a fine fragrance... I just can't decide (though I AM passing on the Paris Hilton jewelry collection).
So I am taking suggestions.
Things I know I DON'T want: Anything related to hunting, books about Science Fiction or Fantasy, tools or hardware, car parts or professional supplies.
Other than that... the field's pretty open.
Any ideas?
You heard me right, I need advice on how to spend a 25 dollar Amazon gift certificate.
I totally did not expect receiving it... but now that I have it... I have no earthly idea how to use it.
You may not realize what a phenomenon this is: me having trouble spending money.
No need to call a doctor, I am feeling just fine. I've scanned their fine website and I have no earthly idea what to select as my very own. Books, CDs, a fine fragrance... I just can't decide (though I AM passing on the Paris Hilton jewelry collection).
So I am taking suggestions.
Things I know I DON'T want: Anything related to hunting, books about Science Fiction or Fantasy, tools or hardware, car parts or professional supplies.
Other than that... the field's pretty open.
Any ideas?
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
When Does The Fairytale Begin?
Happily Ever After has to start somewhere.
Prince Charming and his wonderful bride don't just grow up married to each other. It has to start with a courtship. A little bit of romance. You know, a great story to tell the kids someday.
But even before all that, you've got to get to the First Date (cue blood curdling scream here). With every First Date, I wonder if my prospective suitor is the one I'll end up marrying. I don't wanna sound psycho, but it, without a doubt, is a thought I've mulled over before we even reach the dinner table.
Is this one going to be the yin to my yang? The one who "gets my motor running?" The one who will someday be the daddy of my kids? Is he going to leave me with the kids someday, stuck in squalor and chaos, for a day at the NASCAR track with the guys? (please God, no.)
Is he going to leave me with the kids period?
All these little pipe dreams (or nightmares) race through my brain before we've even said hello. While curling my hair, I think about the possibilities of his proposal. Will it be special? Will he put thought into it? (He better.) Then... as the lipstick rounds my pout, I consider whether he'll be kind and compassionate. I wonder if he'll like movies as much as I do. My perfume just barely kisses my skin while I consider the passion of our own kisses.
And who said primping wasn't dangerous?
The latest, unsuspecting victim of my overactive imagination is a guy I met on match.com. Our story is already getting off to a storybook start:
Guy sees girl on website.
Guy starts e-mailing girl, and she replies. The banter ensues.
Guy stops e-mailing and she forgets about him.
Guy emails two months later asking "Where'd you go?"
Girl shows mercy by replying again.
Guy says he knew she looked familiar... and then emails her at her work account... explaining they had met in a bar three years ago... and he kept her card... all this time.
Yep. That last part was the kicker for me. I mean, who hangs on to a girl's card for three years, especially when the guy never called her in the first place?
I don't know what to make of it, but if things work out... it could be a real cute story to share with the grandkids, and I guess that would make us Happily Ever After.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Irreverent Notes From A Few Randomly Freewheeling Synapses I Managed To Have A Conversation With
I am again obsessing on the idea of marriage. I have a match date Sunday and am already thinking about the ring I want and all the sex positions I'll get to practice if we start dating. Okay, so I'm joking on that second part.
(I warned you about the irreverence).
I cannot wait to get home and see the Vice Presidential debate. Honest. I am a registered Republican (the second really personal fact I've offered in this whole entire blog. Can you name the first?) but am enthusiastically jumping ship for what, in my book, appears to be a far more seaworthy oceanliner.
Edwards looks to me like he's going to win this thing hands-down. He's got the smarts to be a court room litigator so I'm sure he'll mop the court with Dick Cheney in that regard, plus he's charisma personified. The Bush camp calls him The Golden Tongue. I'd like to know what that's about (second irreverent reference).
There is nothing more euphoric than shopping. At least not in the universe I currently reside in. Even a 7 dollar pair of earrings can make me happy.
I apparently have some aversion to cleaning up my apartment. Respectfully I cannot even describe what you would find behind the door of XXX Main Street Number X because chances are the developing spores would make you sick... even through your high speed internet connection. Lemme just boil it down to a whole lotta dirty dishes... a whole lotta clothes thrown EVERYWHERE and even a ring around the toilet. Flylady would be so ashamed.
Gotta go. 10 minutes to The Golden Tongue. Dick Cheney... eat your pacemaker-ed heart out.
(I warned you about the irreverence).
I cannot wait to get home and see the Vice Presidential debate. Honest. I am a registered Republican (the second really personal fact I've offered in this whole entire blog. Can you name the first?) but am enthusiastically jumping ship for what, in my book, appears to be a far more seaworthy oceanliner.
Edwards looks to me like he's going to win this thing hands-down. He's got the smarts to be a court room litigator so I'm sure he'll mop the court with Dick Cheney in that regard, plus he's charisma personified. The Bush camp calls him The Golden Tongue. I'd like to know what that's about (second irreverent reference).
There is nothing more euphoric than shopping. At least not in the universe I currently reside in. Even a 7 dollar pair of earrings can make me happy.
I apparently have some aversion to cleaning up my apartment. Respectfully I cannot even describe what you would find behind the door of XXX Main Street Number X because chances are the developing spores would make you sick... even through your high speed internet connection. Lemme just boil it down to a whole lotta dirty dishes... a whole lotta clothes thrown EVERYWHERE and even a ring around the toilet. Flylady would be so ashamed.
Gotta go. 10 minutes to The Golden Tongue. Dick Cheney... eat your pacemaker-ed heart out.
It's Nice To Be Nice (The polite version of Mean People Suck)
Why should I give a rat's ass what other people think about the clothing I choose to wear?
This question keeps clawing at the innards of my brain following an incident in my newsroom. I call it incident because I am not prone to "calling people out," sharply pointing out the lesser moments of weakness that simply define a mean person.
Rather... I am one of those folks who accept the whispered abuses of others (you know... those twits in the cubicles across the office) in part because I reconcile that A) their opinion DOES NOT matter in my universe and B) they really don't exist in my universe, anyway.
We have two primary offenders in our newsroom. Wannabee fashionistas, I'll call them, who berate and nit-pick the hell out of everyone else. They pick on folks who wear open-toed shoes with pantyhose, people who wear polyester, and they are VERY critical where shoes are concerned (hell, even Jimmy Choo would be laughed out of our shop).
The catch is... Donatella Versace and Calvin Klein, they're not. A young Betty White and an older Bart Simpson would be a more appropriate description. For sure, these two do not deserve to be handing out the fashion design demerits. Bart wears jeans and polo shirts to work consistently and makes little effort to demonstrate his mastery of mixing and matching colors properly. "Betty White" would be found guilty in any courtroom of making her own fashion mistakes. For Exhibit A, I point to an homage-to-the-80s-decade navy blue knit wool dress with hideous maroon trim and conspicuously gaudy gold buttons. Exhibit B: the most obscene pink leather two piece suit (I had no idea the leather industry was capitalizing on the availability of gay cows). I could go on and on but really, this is an exercise in subjectivity, right?
Precisely my initial inspiration for this diatribe.
Normally I accept the consequence of what I wear when my name is drawn by the lottery of their abuse. It's easy to tell when one's a target because they punctuate their ridicule with mutual glances and gawking that ooze with feigned discretion. In that brief moment of their "private" review (first they'll rake a poor soul over the coals with one another, then they further the abuse by gossiping about the unsuspecting victim with whomever gets trapped in their web of venomous critique), I hang my head and shame myself for my poor wardrobe choice made in the haze of an early morning.
But today was different.
I was mighty proud last night when I made a score at the local Mallopolis. I found two really cute tops with an off-the-shoulder cut (all the kids are wearing them) for 15 bucks each. They're long sleeved with a high neckline on the right, and slant all the way off the shoulder on my left side, but are otherwise fitted. It's a modern version to a popular fashion of the 80s... updated with more tailored construction.
This is the closest example I can find on-line, except mine have two sleeves.
photo courtesy msn.com
My new schedule at work affords me the treasured luxury of dressing casual five days a week, and the new tops were a perfect addition to add a dash of trendy to the recipe of an otherwise classic wardrobe.
They're cute, and they make me happy. Must I need any other reasons to justify their wearing?
Well, I suppose so. I happened to catch Bart humming the theme song to that great 80's flick Flashdance as I walked by: "She's a maniac, maniac on the floor. And she's dancing like she's never danced before."
I mean, c'mon. Am I supposed to believe he just happens to have this song in heavy rotation in his CD player, and that he just happens to be humming it as I walk by? A tune from the movie that first made off-the-shoulder-shirts popular?
Maybe someone else. But Not Bart. I know the way he operates.
It ticked me off. For a good 15 minutes I considered letting his little mental-joyride-at-my-expense slide by, just like all the other times. But suddenly I was awash (cue the America The Beautiful music here) in justice and doing what's right and patriotism and standing up to the bully and fighting for the little guy.
Basically I wanted to put Bart in his place. He's the guy with whom I make chit-chat, punctuate his day with flirty glances and share an occasional guffaw with in otherwise glum newsroom. Betty White I can live without, but Bart, he was a pal and I felt betrayed by his meanspirited blasting.
So I called him on it.
I passed him by the bathroom doors as I happened to walk from one department to another.
"So Bart. Was it a coincidence you were humming the Flashdance song? Or was it because of me?"
My delivery started off with a smile (which I do when I'm either happy or nervous) but quickly my expression turned to granite.
"I wasn't humming the song to Flashdance."
"Yes you were. I heard you. 'She's a maniac, maniac on the floor.'"
I glared at him, waiting for his second retort. An innocent person would have made another swipe at disputing my claim.
Not Bart.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder and sauntered over to my desk, where my phone was ringing. As I picked up my receiver, I stared Bart down, who looked at me while grabbing a bottle of water from his desk before heading outside.
His expression said one word: Busted.
Part of me was bursting with vindication. Finally! I had nabbed Betty and Bart and their clandestine criticism of the collective newsroom. I had demonstrated the testicular fortitude to stand up to folks who mask their insecurities by being mean to everyone else. My mind raced with victorious energy akin to the feelings reserved for an Olympics medal ceremony... and all I did was call a jerk out on his mean-spirited remarks.
But another side of me felt guilty. I celebrated my "hunt" with others who had fallen victim at one time or another, but their cheers and pats on the back were fleeting when compared with the guilt of acknowledging I was no better than Bart and Betty were.
Sure. I didn't pick on them on purpose. But my celebrating at Bart's expense came from the same vein of unkindness as their own actions.
It's not so much which I did, but what I did with it, that I have a problem with. Standing up for one's self is a right no one should feel ashamed of. But my badnaming them in turn was no way to cap off an otherwise honest and deserved defense of myself.
I guess "It's nice to be nice" is a two way street ;)
This question keeps clawing at the innards of my brain following an incident in my newsroom. I call it incident because I am not prone to "calling people out," sharply pointing out the lesser moments of weakness that simply define a mean person.
Rather... I am one of those folks who accept the whispered abuses of others (you know... those twits in the cubicles across the office) in part because I reconcile that A) their opinion DOES NOT matter in my universe and B) they really don't exist in my universe, anyway.
We have two primary offenders in our newsroom. Wannabee fashionistas, I'll call them, who berate and nit-pick the hell out of everyone else. They pick on folks who wear open-toed shoes with pantyhose, people who wear polyester, and they are VERY critical where shoes are concerned (hell, even Jimmy Choo would be laughed out of our shop).
The catch is... Donatella Versace and Calvin Klein, they're not. A young Betty White and an older Bart Simpson would be a more appropriate description. For sure, these two do not deserve to be handing out the fashion design demerits. Bart wears jeans and polo shirts to work consistently and makes little effort to demonstrate his mastery of mixing and matching colors properly. "Betty White" would be found guilty in any courtroom of making her own fashion mistakes. For Exhibit A, I point to an homage-to-the-80s-decade navy blue knit wool dress with hideous maroon trim and conspicuously gaudy gold buttons. Exhibit B: the most obscene pink leather two piece suit (I had no idea the leather industry was capitalizing on the availability of gay cows). I could go on and on but really, this is an exercise in subjectivity, right?
Precisely my initial inspiration for this diatribe.
Normally I accept the consequence of what I wear when my name is drawn by the lottery of their abuse. It's easy to tell when one's a target because they punctuate their ridicule with mutual glances and gawking that ooze with feigned discretion. In that brief moment of their "private" review (first they'll rake a poor soul over the coals with one another, then they further the abuse by gossiping about the unsuspecting victim with whomever gets trapped in their web of venomous critique), I hang my head and shame myself for my poor wardrobe choice made in the haze of an early morning.
But today was different.
I was mighty proud last night when I made a score at the local Mallopolis. I found two really cute tops with an off-the-shoulder cut (all the kids are wearing them) for 15 bucks each. They're long sleeved with a high neckline on the right, and slant all the way off the shoulder on my left side, but are otherwise fitted. It's a modern version to a popular fashion of the 80s... updated with more tailored construction.
This is the closest example I can find on-line, except mine have two sleeves.
photo courtesy msn.com
My new schedule at work affords me the treasured luxury of dressing casual five days a week, and the new tops were a perfect addition to add a dash of trendy to the recipe of an otherwise classic wardrobe.
They're cute, and they make me happy. Must I need any other reasons to justify their wearing?
Well, I suppose so. I happened to catch Bart humming the theme song to that great 80's flick Flashdance as I walked by: "She's a maniac, maniac on the floor. And she's dancing like she's never danced before."
I mean, c'mon. Am I supposed to believe he just happens to have this song in heavy rotation in his CD player, and that he just happens to be humming it as I walk by? A tune from the movie that first made off-the-shoulder-shirts popular?
Maybe someone else. But Not Bart. I know the way he operates.
It ticked me off. For a good 15 minutes I considered letting his little mental-joyride-at-my-expense slide by, just like all the other times. But suddenly I was awash (cue the America The Beautiful music here) in justice and doing what's right and patriotism and standing up to the bully and fighting for the little guy.
Basically I wanted to put Bart in his place. He's the guy with whom I make chit-chat, punctuate his day with flirty glances and share an occasional guffaw with in otherwise glum newsroom. Betty White I can live without, but Bart, he was a pal and I felt betrayed by his meanspirited blasting.
So I called him on it.
I passed him by the bathroom doors as I happened to walk from one department to another.
"So Bart. Was it a coincidence you were humming the Flashdance song? Or was it because of me?"
My delivery started off with a smile (which I do when I'm either happy or nervous) but quickly my expression turned to granite.
"I wasn't humming the song to Flashdance."
"Yes you were. I heard you. 'She's a maniac, maniac on the floor.'"
I glared at him, waiting for his second retort. An innocent person would have made another swipe at disputing my claim.
Not Bart.
I flipped my hair over my shoulder and sauntered over to my desk, where my phone was ringing. As I picked up my receiver, I stared Bart down, who looked at me while grabbing a bottle of water from his desk before heading outside.
His expression said one word: Busted.
Part of me was bursting with vindication. Finally! I had nabbed Betty and Bart and their clandestine criticism of the collective newsroom. I had demonstrated the testicular fortitude to stand up to folks who mask their insecurities by being mean to everyone else. My mind raced with victorious energy akin to the feelings reserved for an Olympics medal ceremony... and all I did was call a jerk out on his mean-spirited remarks.
But another side of me felt guilty. I celebrated my "hunt" with others who had fallen victim at one time or another, but their cheers and pats on the back were fleeting when compared with the guilt of acknowledging I was no better than Bart and Betty were.
Sure. I didn't pick on them on purpose. But my celebrating at Bart's expense came from the same vein of unkindness as their own actions.
It's not so much which I did, but what I did with it, that I have a problem with. Standing up for one's self is a right no one should feel ashamed of. But my badnaming them in turn was no way to cap off an otherwise honest and deserved defense of myself.
I guess "It's nice to be nice" is a two way street ;)
Monday, October 04, 2004
Get to know me better...
AN EMAIL I JUST SENT OUT TO ALL MY GIRLFRIENDS.... IT'S ONE OF THOSE CHAIN LETTERS...
Welcome to the next edition of getting to know your friends. Okay, here's what you're supposed to do.....and try not to spoil the fun! Just give in.
Copy (not forward) this entire e-mail and paste it into a new e-mail that
you can send. Change all the answers so that they apply to you. Then, send
this to a whole bunch of people you know INCLUDING the person who sent it to
you. The Theory is that you will learn a lot of little known facts about
your friends. It's fun!
1. What is your Full Name:
Katherine Louise (Elizabeth) C------ (do you really think I'm gonna post my last name?)
2. What color pants are you wearing now? Gray
3.What are you listening to right now: A friend JS's smiley voice
4. What are the last 2 digits of your mobile phone number(s): 23
5. What was the last thing you ate: caramel and apple spice cupcake
6. If you were a crayon what color would you be: scarlet
7. What is the weather right now: crisp and sunny
8. Last person you talked to on the phone: See number 3
9. The first thing you notice about the opposite sex: Their eyes
10. Do you like the person who sent this to you: She is a spiritual rock
11. How are you today: I am alive, I am here and I am blessed
12. Favorite Drink: root beer
13. Favorite Alcoholic drink: used to be martinis
14. Favorite Sport: Specifically UK basketball
15. Hair Color: chemically derived blonde
16. Eye Color: blue
17. Siblings: two sisters
18. Favorite Month: OCTOBER!!!
19. Last movie you watched: American Beauty
20. Favorite Day of the Year: Hmm. Maybe Thanksgiving or the 4th of July
21. Are you too shy to ask someone out: Nope but I'm learning that's not the way to go.
So hard to be the chasee!!
22. Summer or Winter: Summer
23. Hugs or Kisses: Both
24. Chocolate or Vanilla: Chocolate
25. Do you want your friends to write back: Sure
26. Who is most likely to respond? Maybe Lady M since she's at home, lucky girl!
27. Who is least likely to respond? My sister B because she's a busy girl and a NEW HOMEOWNER!!
28. What books are you reading? re-reading "Great Expectations" by Charles Dickens... one of my favorite books of all time... and also "Bachelor Girl... the Secret History of Single Women in the 20th Century"
29.What is on your mouse pad: Colorbars. It's a M.P. I picked up at the Guggenheim Museum in NYC
30.What did you do last night: Visited with one of my dear friends Lady L (and her adorable baby K) and watched the new Practice spinoff. Love James Spader.
31. Favorite Tree: Maybe a Christmas Tree?
32. Favorite Smells: A good cologne, the smells of oranges and Christmas, an old musty church with a trace of incense
33. Can you touch your nose with your tongue: no
34. What inspires you? My women friends
35. Sky diver or race car driver? Sky Dive
36. Favorite Flower? Roses and maybe peonys
37. Favorite Cookie: Chocolate Chip or those Peanut Butter ones with the Hershey Kiss in the middle
38. How many books do you own? Enough to fill several bookcases in two different states
39. What's your favorite thing to cook? Anything but I have a proclivity for baked goods
40. Is your car dirty or clean? Oh so dirty. But I don't care. It's paid off and it's MINE!
41. If you had one wish, what would it be? To be blessed with an undying true love and a happy family
42. Favorite Vacation spot? Bermuda or London
43. Favorite quote: "The light at the end of the tunnel: it it Heaven or an oncoming train" (it's my own)
Saturday, October 02, 2004
Day Late and A Dollar Short
From Friday's Feast
Appetizer: What sound, other than the normal ringing, would you like your telephone to make?
Perhaps a tune relevant to the caller.
The boy I like: The Hallelujah Chorus.
My place of Employment: Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive
One of my sisters: That taunting tune kids yell at eachother in the school yard "nyah-nyah, nyah-nyah, nyaaaah-nyah
Soup: Describe your usual disposition in meteorological terms (partly cloudy, sunny, stormy, etc.).
Mostly sunny
Salad: What specific subject do you feel you know better than any other subjects?
The mechanics of writing, the art of literature (and the vast difference between the two)
Main Course: Imagine you were given the ability to remember everything you read for one entire day. What books/magazines/newspapers would you choose to read?
Well I still DO only have one day, so War and Peace would be a total waste in my book (no pun intended!). Perhaps I'd start with the Psalms as they're said to be pretty uplifting. I might read the journals I've already written so I'd not forget key events and people of my past, even whence struck by Alzheimer's. I'd skim through the Best of Cosmo so as to know a few pertinent sex tricks when the appropriate moment, ahem, arises... and maybe I'd read a Dickens novels as I think they're practically perfect in every way.
Dessert: If a popular candy maker contacted you to create their next candy bar, what would it be like?
It would have toffee in it because toffee is God's gift to sweet tooths and dentists everywhere. There would be chocolate involved and maybe something totally unexpected like cinnamon. Sweet would be the primary word to describe my confection, but hard and sticky would come into play as well.
My God. From the looks of things my sexual frustrations are creeping into my post. Wow. I have to do something about that.
Appetizer: What sound, other than the normal ringing, would you like your telephone to make?
Perhaps a tune relevant to the caller.
The boy I like: The Hallelujah Chorus.
My place of Employment: Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive
One of my sisters: That taunting tune kids yell at eachother in the school yard "nyah-nyah, nyah-nyah, nyaaaah-nyah
Soup: Describe your usual disposition in meteorological terms (partly cloudy, sunny, stormy, etc.).
Mostly sunny
Salad: What specific subject do you feel you know better than any other subjects?
The mechanics of writing, the art of literature (and the vast difference between the two)
Main Course: Imagine you were given the ability to remember everything you read for one entire day. What books/magazines/newspapers would you choose to read?
Well I still DO only have one day, so War and Peace would be a total waste in my book (no pun intended!). Perhaps I'd start with the Psalms as they're said to be pretty uplifting. I might read the journals I've already written so I'd not forget key events and people of my past, even whence struck by Alzheimer's. I'd skim through the Best of Cosmo so as to know a few pertinent sex tricks when the appropriate moment, ahem, arises... and maybe I'd read a Dickens novels as I think they're practically perfect in every way.
Dessert: If a popular candy maker contacted you to create their next candy bar, what would it be like?
It would have toffee in it because toffee is God's gift to sweet tooths and dentists everywhere. There would be chocolate involved and maybe something totally unexpected like cinnamon. Sweet would be the primary word to describe my confection, but hard and sticky would come into play as well.
My God. From the looks of things my sexual frustrations are creeping into my post. Wow. I have to do something about that.
When the Going Gets Tough... The Tough Go Shopping
Image courtesy of J'amori
I came across this website and immediately thought of my fasion savvy friend, Pink Poppy. She's always on the up-and-up with what the hip folks are wearing these days. I like to think I'm a bit of a style watcher myself, though I'm always looking for a way to stretch a dollar, too.
Girls, this website is the place to do it.
I got tipped off to J'amori from my daily Daily Candy newsletter, something I think y'all should check out, if for no other reason it's a great way to take a five minute mental vacation from the grind at the ol' salt mine.
Anyway... this mecca for the foot fetish set has a wealth of glorious shoes. Mules, sling backs, knee high boots, pumps, slides, ankle boots, stilletos, sandals and ankle wraps... they're ALL there. J'amori is the place for brand whores, too. Jimmy Choos (lots and lots), Dolce & Gabbana, Moschino, G. Zanotti... there are all kinds of fancy pants brands to check out. The kicker is... many of these shoes are for sale at 25% to 75% off.
So have fun shopping: this website will knock your socks off... just be sure to pay the rent first!
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