One Stop Weird Shoppe

on tv

2007-06-25T22:31:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow night's film offering: Ice-T stars in "AIR RAGE"

You know, I hate it when a pilot cuts me off and I have to follow him his entire flight plan and wait to land before I can start some shit. 'Cause flipping the bird just doesn't do it in the sky.

SODIE POP SODIE POP

2007-06-25T11:32:00.000-07:00

I hear to call of the caffeine sirens,
Compelling me to traipse to the cafe.
The bubbling sweetness may be false in nature
But there is nothing fake about my addiction.
Breathless and still, I hold my cup
To catch the life-giving liquid.

I fill the cup carefully,
Allowing surface tension to hold in even just a couple sips more.

The weirdest stuff turns up on cable

2007-06-23T05:23:00.000-07:00

So, right now, 5:20 a.m. on Saturday, "Critters 2: The Main Course" is showing. On TNT.

I guess they really DO know drama.

Healthy eating! (unless you get poisoned, that is)

2007-06-20T22:13:00.001-07:00

Dave and I are trying, yet again, to eat foods that are better for us than the fast food, fat-laden dishes to wish our bodies and minds have unfortunately become accustomed.
So we're trying to cook more often and center dishes on veggies rather than meat. And when we do eat meat, it's usually chicken or shrimp.
I do most of the cooking (I don't know if it's because I'm the woman, or because I can actually do it, but there you go ...).
Dave realizes that this puts an unfair amount of pressure on me, so he tries to pitch in.
A couple nights ago, for example, he came home from work as I was preparing dinner and immediately pitched in, dicing onions, scrubbing potatoes and defrosting our precooked, frozen shrimp (we love it. It costs more than buying raw shrimp, but it is 100 percent easier).
But sometimes, he bites off more than he can chew.
Last night, we had the idea to make CLTs -- chicken breast, lettuce and tomato sandwiches.
And he decided he wanted to tackle this dish on his own because I'd been doing all the cooking.
So he brought me the first dish, the chicken breast steaming hot from the pan, the lettuce still crisp, the tomato slices juicy and proudly asked me to try it.
So I took a huge bite into this wonderful sandwich he had made me and had so lovingly presented.
A huge bite right into a section of raw chicken.
And he was upset but understood: It's the thought that counts, but only if it doesn't end up poisoning you.

Second day of class

2007-06-20T00:03:00.000-07:00

So, today was better. At least, I feel more confident!
It'll help, I think, if I don't look at other people's stuff.
That's what a friend at work suggested, at any rate.
He said, in fact, "Don't focus on other people. Just give them compliments. But it's not a competition."
He said to remain focused on the work, and it'd get better, and that by the end of class, I'd see.
Then he added, "You can make nice, pretty pictures if you want them to sell at Wal-Mart. Or you can express yourself if you want to stand out."
"Art isn't all about a pretty picture."
He is a genius, my own personal sage.
Now I really feel like no matter what I do, it's going to be OK.
I love the sense of freedom it gives me!
Even if the airplane outline I did tonight is not the best ever, it IS the best I could do.
It's a nice reminder that as long as I'm doing the best I can in everything I try, that's great. Sometimes, my best will be better than what someone else has done. Sometimes, my best won't be as good as someone else's best.
The victory is in the personal best!

Bad haircut

2007-06-19T15:20:00.000-07:00

So, the bad haircut I got about a month ago is starting to grow out, and I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing.
Good: It's growing out, so my scalp has forgiven me for the massive transgression I visited upon it.
Bad: It LOOKS like it's growing out. So it looks like ass.
Good: The curls are floppy, which works with the haircut to make me look like I spend a lot more time on my hair than I actually do.
Bad: The curls are long enough now to tickle my cheeks, and because my hair is extremely fine and my skin can be sensitive, it's driving me MAD and I spend too much time scratching my face, trying not to scratch my face, or trying to keep my hair out of my face so I don't have to scratch it.
Good: Longer hair will cover the gray!
Bad: I still have gray hairs!

Blasts from the past

2007-06-19T10:34:00.000-07:00

The man who played the best friend on "The Wonder Years" is now a lawyer.

And Danica McKellar has a math theorem named after her.

So apparently Fred Savage was really holding them back.

Blarg!

2007-06-19T08:45:00.000-07:00

Things I need:
* To get more sleep.
* To get to sleep earlier.
* To be able to wake up promptly with my alarm.
* To not heed my cats' mewling "we're SO lost and NO ONE cares enough to come find us!" cries at 2 a.m.

Drawing class begins

2007-06-18T23:30:00.000-07:00

So, I'm taking a drawing class at RCC with Susan and Jeff.
I feel like a dork, and not just because I'm going to have to be showing up, like, 40 minutes after class has already started.
Our first in-class assignment was to draw an abstract (a picture out of focus and upside down), then draw the same picture in focus and right-side up.
To put it kindly, they look about like my work did the last time I took a drawing class -- in seventh grade.
It's just embarrassing. I can take a picture, I can write, I can sew, but danged if drawing isn't just one of the most difficult things ever.
The whole showing up late thing adds to my drama. The class overlaps with work and I can see their point: Leaving early would be a huge distraction. So I asked the teacher if I could just show up late, and he was game, to a point. He warned me I'd be missing a huge part of class -- the public humiliation portion (no, really, the evaluation period) at the start of class. But as long as I'm there every day and don't be all distracting when I come in, he'll agree to let me take the class.
It's pretty intimidating. Some of these people, based on the initial works, should NOT be in a beginning drawing class.
I'd rather be surrounded by people who've just graduated from fingerpainting than people whose first-day, 10-minute drawings could fetch real cash money.
(Funny haha P.S. At first I typed "monet" -- I'm such a dork!)

Fictional characters I'd like to meet

2007-06-16T10:09:00.000-07:00

Joe Pike: Robert Crais character. He's a veteran who works with Elvis Cole. He's quasi-antisocial, but has a keen understanding of right vs. wrong vs. the ends justify the means. Like, it might freak me out to actually meet him, cause he's probably pretty intense. On the other hand, I think he'd be really good at giving people some perspective on what's really important. Also, the tats on his shoulders would encourage people to remember to keep moving forward.
Fletch: Gregory McDonald character. NOT the Chevy Chase creation, though that's funny. The novels are darker and more layered. The impression I always got is that IM Fletcher is a hard worker, curious and patient. Bright and sometimes compassionate. I'd like to get his opinion on the Internet age. Where's the place of the investigative reporter in a time when information and news stream 25 hours a day? I think he'd still be a supporter of the printed word. Some stories just don't translate to video.
More to come ...

Too funny NOT to share

2007-06-15T21:28:00.001-07:00

NBC and its sister studio have struck a deal to make both Spanish- and English-language versions of a controversial Colombian telenovela whose title translates to "Without Breasts There Is No Paradise."

Haircat

2007-06-15T21:25:00.000-07:00

I gave Watson a haircut last night.

He grooms himself - I mean, we SEE him grooming himself - but the hair on his chest was matted, like under his chin, on his chest, where he can't really get to it anymore, and his lower back was just sort of greasy.

I know cats have natural oils and all that, but this was just this side of getting stuff stuck in it ...

He purred the whole time, then got twitchy.

So I put down treat food and they both ignored it. Blarg. When it's too hot for cats to enjoy treats, that's too blarging hot.

And then when I had this pile of extra kitty fur, he started sniffing it.

I could only imagine the philsophical Sartre battle waging in his feline brain: "I'm over there, but I'm here. That smells and looks like me, but I am over here. She's taking from me and adding to that. I've achieved enlightenment: I AM in two places at once."

Home and hope

2007-06-14T21:41:00.001-07:00

I spent a good portion of the night making myself feel better by looking at rents in New York City. They're, like, twice as high for half the space. I mean, sure, we're in the IE and not the Big Apple, but that made me feel a little bit better.
I haven't been to New York in my adult life (I think we drove through it on our way to visit one of my mom's college friends when I was a kid), but I like to think our spot of California has more nature in it than most parts of New York City. (New Yorkers, give me a break ... I'm trying to look on the bright side of things.)
When I lived in Springfield, I knew a guy who'd moved there from Chicago and nowhere in the world he'd been, including Springfield, compared to it, and he talked about it All The Time. Every time he found anything about Chicago, he'd send it to us, including an essay that included the poignant phrase, "It's not like there's anything WRONG with your city, it's just not Chicago."
We always good-naturedly raised our eyebrows at his hometown pride. After all, if Chicago's that great, why did he move to Springfield?
Now, I think I can appreciate his feelings.
I loved Kansas. I loved Missouri. But I kept thinking there was something more out there, something better. That's why the California job came at such a wonderful time.
And I wouldn't trade my California experience for anything. After all, this is where I met my husband (a displaced Midwesterner). This is where I've taken some really great pictures, played around at bodyboarding, and made some really great friends (100 percent of them displaced Midwesterners). Heck, I'm only an hour from the beach!
But I miss home.
I miss the clear skies, the clean air, the honest friendliness, the good traffic, the low rent and the weather.
I miss parking easily.
I miss my family, my friends and knowing that no matter where I live, they're probably only going to be an hour away.
I miss knowing where I am, physically and mentally.
It's not like there's anything drastically WRONG with Southern California.
It's just not Kansas.

Britney's mom is just making it worse

2007-06-13T20:53:00.000-07:00

Lynne Spears says her daughter Britney, whose public meltdown included
shearing off her own locks, is "just figuring things out."
"It's sad that the whole world had to watch her make mistakes that all of us have made at one time or another," Spears is quoted as telling Us Weekly magazine in its latest issue.

Yeah, 'cause I remember the last time I shaved my head, talked about how my second baby was an accident, went to rehab and married a man whose baby mama was pregnant with their second kid.

So obvious, my need for anti-anxiety meds

2007-06-13T15:49:00.000-07:00

Called Target pharmacy after realizing I'd been off meds for A WEEK AND A HALF and STILL NO ONE HAD CALLED ME.

Pharm girl: "Well, it's here and filled."

Me: "WHY DID NO ONE CALL ME TO LET ME KNOW MY ANTI-ANXIETY MEDS WERE IN?!"

Pharm girl: "Well, we usually only do that for prescriptions that are renewed monthly."

Me: "So, no one thought it was necessary to call me - even though they said they would - about my ANTI-ANXIETY medication, even when there had been all this trouble, and even though it's ANTI-ANXIETY medication? So, if I hadn't called today, I would never know that my ANTI-ANXIETY medication was in? Can you tell why I need ANTI-ANXIETY medication?!"

Pharm girl: "Uh ... OK, so I'm going to put a note in here that says, call you any time there's any medication in for you."

Me: "Thank you for understanding. I wouldn't be so upset if it weren't about a pill that helps me keep my brain straight."

Pharm girl: "Yes. I understand."

How was Monday terrible ... let me count the ways

2007-06-11T21:25:00.000-07:00

1) Spent $600 fixing a car that we'd just spent $800 to fix.
2) Was tired all day, even though I got, like, nine hours of sleep.
3) Spent $75 on groceries, but then didn't have the energy to cook dinner!!!
4) Got into a misunderstanding with a co-worker, an uber-sucky way to start the week.

OK, spinning it around, for mental health's sake:
1) They think they have it fixed for real this time.
2) I made it through the day just fine and am just an hour or so away from going to sleep!
3) Hey! We actually have groceries!!
4) The co-worker and I debriefed and all is well.

Greetings!

2007-06-06T18:56:00.000-07:00

Happy Wednesday!!!
Otherwise known as Happy Only-Two-More-Days-Until-Friday Day.

Which isn't as good as Happy Only-Two-More-Days-Until-Payday.


But will do in a pinch.

Top wishes as of today

2007-06-05T20:14:00.000-07:00

1) I want to make enough money to afford a house.
2) I want to reduce my pessimistic attitude.
3) I want to stop seeing duplicity behind every face.
4) I want to find ways to be a better person.
5) I want to eat healthier foods.
6) I want to be successful at something that makes me happy.
7) I want to be respected and not just the person to whom people give their work.
7) I want to be happy.

What is it about weekends?

2007-06-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

We had all these Big Plans for this weekend.
We were supposed to clean, then we were going to see "POTC: AWE," then we were going to go the Disneyland.
Thus far, I've mailed packages home and rearranged my sewing area (part of the cleaning to-do list), and that's all.
I wish I could even work up the energy to get irked at myself for my lack of motivation, but this has been the most restful weekend I've had in months!

Crafts, crafts and more crafts

2007-06-02T22:58:00.000-07:00

So, I spent part of my Saturday rearranging my little crafts area. It's hard to find room for creating and for the materials to create in a one-bedroom apartment filled with two people, two cats, too many books, and lots of various doodads and whatnots.
But Dave is patient and tolerant of my stuff being strewn all this way and that, so it all works out for the best.
I even try Googling the best ways to set up a sewing area, and get jealous when I see all these people whose rooms -- yes, ROOMS -- have plenty of storage space and abundant ambient light!
The little desk lamp I bought for my table is plenty bright, but TOO bright. If I glance at it accidentally, I get spots! The problem, I think, is that the lampshade is too clear. It's translucent rather than opaque, and it just doesn't shade enough from the 40-WATT BULB! So I stuck a piece of paper over the lampshade to help with the shading and moved the lamp to the other side side of the sewing machine to try to keep from blinding myself.
And then there's the storage. I'm a sucker for bright fabrics. So remnants, quarter panels (or whatever they're called), regular ol' material on the bolt ... whatever it is, if I like it, I'll tote it home, even if I don't have plans for it. So now I have buckets of fabrics that don't match and that I don't know how to use. I finally hit on the idea of keeping a photo album showing tiny squares of the fabrics I've used. That way, I don't feel like I have to keep the whole piece and I can actually use it!
Such is my addiction to this new hobby that whenever I say I went to JoAnn's, Dave just automatically asks, "So, what did you buy this time?"

I just wish I had more ideas for projects for the quarter panels!

Rent is poopy

2007-06-01T21:15:00.000-07:00

Just found out they're raising our rent more than $100 a month.
Poop!
It's better than the $400 a month more if we don't sign a new lease, but still ... POOP!

I can't believe how ridiculous rent is in SoCal. It's depressing. I don't know how people live here. Like, I simply can't comprehend.

I try to do the math and I can't.

Poop.

Cats -- and evidence thereof -- is EVERYWHERE

2007-05-31T20:25:00.000-07:00

I own two cats -- or rather, two cats who rule our lives live with us -- and they basically pwn our apartment. We are just lucky that they don't like getting on the kitchen counter or eating human food, or quite frankly, I just don't know that we'd be able to keep the human-cat power balance, well, balanced.
And yet, as much as I love the furry little buggers and everything about them (except their dooks -- those are nasty), I am really starting to resent their HAIR.
It gets everywhere.
Clothes fresh from the drier have cat hairs on them.
When I wake up in the morning, I have cat hair in my hair ... and sometimes in my nose.
White, fluffy, lighter-than-air dander floats around my car, a car the cats have never been in.

I have black clothes I can't wear, so sullen are they with cat hair.

And yet ...
When they purr their affection with a sidle at my ankles, when they cozy up to me when I get home from work, when they nap on my chest when we're chilling in the living room, I know that I love them beyond all reason, in spite of the tufts they'll leave in their wake when they have their CatTacks later.
Tufts I call my White Badge of Affection.

Blech

2007-05-30T20:20:00.000-07:00

I came home from work sick today after not even getting to work until late because of spectacular digestive pyrotechnics.
My tummy hurt so much, it woke me from a dead sleep two and a half hours early, then I spent a half hour trying to convince myself I wasn't going to be sick before I got up and was, well, sick.
Horribly and violently so.
I at least feel good that I rallied my troops and got into work for a few hours. It's not enough to save the world, but maybe I at least saved some trouble.

Craftiness

2007-05-29T21:52:00.000-07:00

I've been playing around with sewing since I borrowed Dave's mom's sewing machine a bit ago, and I really seem to be taking to it!
The key, it seems, is precision, not speed. Precision in cutting, precision in seam allowance, precision in pinning.
Of course, sometimes I prefer to just hold the material pieces together and sew that way. If I've cut the pieces properly, they'll line up perfectly.
And there's something about the hands-on approach I like.
Some Web site I read said that sewing has shown to reduce stress up to 40 percent, and I think I'm feeling the effects of that, too. There's something soothing philosophically about turning some flat panel of material into a three-dimensional object.

Who's laughing now, smarty?

2007-05-24T17:27:00.001-07:00

OK, so there's this new over-the-counter weight loss aid coming out in June. It's the first FDA-approved OTC weight loss drug.
1) It works by taking fat you eat and wrapping it up so your body can't digest it. Then it sends it on the flume ride that is your bowels. If you eat a lot of fat, you may have gas accompanied by oil emissions like an old Dodge. You may have oily BMs. And you may lose control over when and where you BM. These are being called treatment effects.
2) These "treatment effects" come into play ESPECIALLY if you don't curb your fat intake. You can CONTROL the effects by limiting your fat intake.
3) If you continue to eat lots of fat, you will have embarrassing emissions and crap a lot.

My take: Best practical joke ever.

I'll probably try it, 'cause God knows, I don't crap enough.

One of the things on their site says you can use the"treatment effects" to judge if you're eating too much fat.
So, let me get this right: Pooping in my pants is my punishment for bad food choices?

Does that seem like a fair tradeoff?

Clothes note

2007-05-23T11:31:00.001-07:00

Note to self: No more corduroy until I lose at least 3 inches of thigh fat.
Depending on how fast I walk, I either sound like I'm the backscratch beat for a remix, or a slowly undoing zipper.

Big Hair

2007-05-22T20:39:00.000-07:00

I love big hair, and I can't deny, you other sisters can't deny.
When a chick walks in with an itty-bitty face and some mall bangs in her eyes, you get jealous, 'cause she's gettin' all the fellas.

Deep in her pockets, you're staring, a 'fro pick peeking out.

Takes lot' o' hairspray and hands of mousse,

A weave standing tall to produce

Bad clothes for kids

2007-05-22T13:30:00.000-07:00

Most disturbing thing ever: In a video I edited, 7- or 8-year-old girl wearing a t-shirt: "No Angel"

Sure, it was just a T-shirt and not a hoochie shirt, but who the hell designs a little girl shirt that says "NO ANGEL"??

It's like designing a onesie that says "slut"

Options when you're bored

2007-05-22T13:27:00.000-07:00

Wanna hacky sack in the picnic area?
All we're missing are hackysacks and a picnic area!
Wanna gossip in our emergency evacuation roll call area?
Wanna fake a fire drill?

We can call each other, then yelp, "OHMIGOD!", then run to stairs with serious looks on our faces. Yell "SAVE YOURSELVES THE END IS NIGH!" Then run down the stairs.

Madge dream

2007-05-22T11:27:00.000-07:00

I dreamed that Susan and I went to a Madonna concert and Madonna recognized me as a member of the D staff and signed a program for me.
Then at the concert, the sound was really really sketchy, so Madonna took the whole audience on a train ride as part of the concert, singing on the PA system of the train.
Then we stopped at a small village for pizza and Susan and I turned down a street and Albert were there with some other people making latex masks. And he got totally mad at me for taking his pic.
Then Susan and I ran away and got in line for pizza.
We were worried the train back to the concert hall was going to leave without us.

My definition of Fark

2007-05-21T13:16:00.000-07:00

Looking at Fark is like peeling back Jeff's scalp and seeing the hamster running on the wheel.

Emoticon of a fart

2007-05-18T11:17:00.000-07:00

Fart blossom ==3
Fart being released 3==
Fart blossom from the bum 3 ==3
Wet one 3 ==*

Today's Show at JitB Theater

2007-05-17T15:40:00.000-07:00

Today's Show at JitB Theater: The Manic Display of Over-Reactive Youth

(clears throat)

"What motherfucker called the motherfucking cops on me?! I'ma gon' bust all the way into someone's brain! Motherfuckers don' know who they messin' with! Motherfuckers calling motherfucking cops! (punches trash can, comes back to table) Motherfuckers! ARGH! (takes trash to trash can, throws it all, including tray, away) MOTHERFUCKERS!!! (kicks trash can and hits it again before punching his way outside, still holding drink cup, then stops in middle of drive-thru lane) ARGH!! What'chu doing?! (runs to sidewalk along 14th at such high speed I'm thinking he's going to go straight into traffic) ARGH!!! I SEE YOU, MOTHERFUCKERS!"

Patrons look at each other: WTF?

fini

Just called DH to wake him up for his evening shift

2007-05-16T17:08:00.000-07:00

DH: Where are you?
Me: I'm at work.
DH: What time is it?
Me: 5:06.
DH: a.m. or p.m.?

BYOB as well

2007-05-16T16:14:00.000-07:00

Where: On the acre grounds of Chuck Flanagan's home, 38766 Brookside Ave., Cherry Valley. Bring your own food, chairs and blankets.

This is from an event in a weekly magazine.
I wonder if this guy even knows he's hosting something.

What: Celebrate the coming summer movie season with a film festival
Where: So-and-so's apartment.
Bring your own food, chairs, DVDs and a friend who can pick a lock.

Random

2007-05-09T17:34:00.000-07:00

A guy wearing a dirty black wifebeater and ill-advised facial hair just biked through our parking lot while smoking a cigarette.

????

2007-05-08T14:30:00.000-07:00

The cafe at our office runs its menu online.
There's some coding error or font error or something that's tacking "?" on the ends of menu items: "Luncheon Entree?" "Roast Chicken?"
If you're not sure if it's lunch or the entree, I'm fine with that. But if you're confused about if it's chicken or not, I'm scared.

OMG cords

2007-05-07T11:33:00.000-07:00

My corduroy pants make scary Whish-Whish-Whish noises.
Like, more than ever before.
I try to walk faster to lessen the time it's making the noise, but then it's higher-pitched.
So I try walking with my legs farther apart, looking like a baby with a load.

My nephew's lost afternoon

2007-05-04T10:41:00.000-07:00

My nephew broke his finger at school yesterday!

No one really knows what happened -- the story went from, Leah hit me, to a helicopter came down and chopped it off, but my blood went back inside me and the finger grew back -- but he has a fracture in the bone of his left ring finger.

Doc says it's consistent with someone grabbing the finger and forcing it down, or a blow that caught the finger and forced the hand down.

But since Sawyer's four and prone to stories, my sister doesn't think they'll ever really know what happened.

It's like "S_____'s Lost Afternoon."

My personal fave idea: He's toughing up. No one's gonna tell HIM he can't wear stripes with paisley.

My Mom Vs. the Cell Phone

2007-05-02T15:25:00.000-07:00

Me: Hi, Mom? i just sent you an e-mail.
Mom: What? I can't hear you!
Me (louder): Mom? I just sent you ...
Mom: I can't hear you!
Me (almost yelling): I JUST SENT ...
Mom: WHAT ARE YOU SAYING? I CAN'T HEAR ...
(breaking up, Kate hangs up and calls back on niece's phone)
Me: Hi, A____? Let me talk to Mom.
(Mom is laughing in the background)
Me: Hi, Mom, I sent ...
Mom (still laughing): Amber just must have a better whatchamacallit than I do!
Me: Yeah, so, I sent this e-mail ...
Mom: What?

Old-fashioned

2007-04-24T15:02:00.000-07:00

My 93-year-old uncle just called to make sure that it was OK that he didn't think it was right that my brother had a baby out of wedlock:

UH: Can't you talk some sense into that young man?
Me: Have you ever tried talking sense into a young man? It's a losing battle!
UH: Well, I think the way you did it was sensible. Get married. Then everything that happens after is perfectly legal.
Me: It's a different time.
UH: What do you think? Do you think he's just going to run out on this girl?
Me: Uh ... uh ... it's a different time.
UH: I just hope he's not there when I come out in July.

Damn insomnia

2007-04-23T15:45:00.000-07:00

We got home last night and did seven loads of laundry in three swoops.
So, good for us (and people who ever stand near us), but once we tackled that, I was like, let me just clean this now, and that, and organize this.
I was up until 2:15 fiddling around and then didn't fall asleep until 4 or so because my mind kept going, "Ooo! Let's do this!" or "Why aren't I up doing this?"

"Stick It"

2007-04-19T13:25:00.000-07:00

So, we rented "Stick It."

I have no idea if it's accurate, but it was shot really well. Like some scenes are really interesting.

The only thing that was disconcerting: The alarming "hot" chemistry between Jeff Bridges and the lead actress.

Like, they should be making out, not him mentoring her.

Like, in 5 years, they should be in a romance together.

Yelling at CapOne

2007-04-18T14:45:00.000-07:00

The guy couldn't or wouldn't explain why the paper statement differed from what the electronic statement said, then didn't really have an answer for why the $10 late fee kept appearing on the statement, except that it was going to be off it from now on since the payment I made yesterday covered it.
THEN when we asked why did it just now get covered, since I consistently pay MORE than what is owed, he said, well, because you've never paid more than enough to cover it (despite the fact that I usually pay about $500 on a $292 payment).
And I said that doesn't make sense.
Well, he says, every time you pay, some of it goes to the principal, some of it goes to interest.
So, I say, even though I ALWAYS pay over what we owe, it's never been enough to pay this $10 fee?
Well, he says, that's because we don't know what's supposed to go to pay what.
So, I say, does that mean I should write a SECOND check just for the late fee (god forbid we have late fees again)?
And he says, well, you could just call and tell us it's to go for the late fees.
So, I say, the late fee would have just kept showing up if I hadn't called?
Well, yes, he says, we put it on your statement as a reminder.
WTF, I say. So now I owe $30 in late fees because you couldn't or wouldn't take it out of the FRICKIN YUGE PAYMENTS I MAKE?!
And then basically, he wouldn't help us with anything.
Even though DH had called in Feb. and talked to a girl who said she was going to take the late fee off because a $500 payment we made after not getting printed statements for two months in a row got lost in the mail.
DH to me: Yeah, we should just kiss that money away.
Me to DH: Aren't you glad I was yelling at him and not you?

funny!

2007-04-09T12:15:00.000-07:00

I just found a story I printed out just 3 weeks before I started dating the man who became my husband.

Wire headline on story: Include common sense in search for spouse

A salad I got at work

2007-04-04T13:02:00.000-07:00

I got the chef salad, but the chef is apparently, like, 5 years old.
The boiled egg still had shell on it (gross) and the cheese turned out just to be chopped-up sandwich slices.
Also, stalks made up more than a third of the lettuce.

When I was a kid, I made my mom a salad using cabbage instead of lettuce, 'cause come on, when you're a kid, they're the same thing, right?I was so proud of it, and she winced her way through eating some of it to make me feel better? But I still have to think that was better than this ...

Poor doggy

2007-04-03T10:14:00.000-07:00

On way to work, I saw a disoriented bulldog walking in traffic.

I called DH and he called animal control.

It was so sad.

It (he, definitely a he) had a huge cut on his head and was a mess. He looked like he would be a good dog if someone would take care of him.

He just looked bewildered, like, "How the eff did I end up in the middle of a road?!"

Privacy, please

2007-03-30T15:06:00.000-07:00

Sheri Provost never considered using decorative iron wall art for a
headboard. About a year ago, an interior rearranger and owner of Reinvented Rooms in Fresno, suggested Provost hang a set of three arched panels just above the bed like a headboard.
Provost, who likes the new look, says the set up has
attracted attention.
"A lot of people comment on it when they come over," she says.

Dude, how many people are seeing your BEDROOM?!

Stoopid cars

2007-02-26T11:02:00.000-08:00

Reason No. 4,367 why I can't catch a break: I went to start my car yesterday and it wouldn't start.

At all.

My brand-new, not a year-old car wouldn't start.

So DH had to drive me to work yesterday for the Oscars and pick me up, then this morning, I walked to work.

Anyway, I'm peeved and am calling the dealership.

On the plus side, this isn't even the worst thing to happen to me this month, so I'm actually in pretty good spirits about it!

And luckily, I think it's just the battery 'cause when I lock the doors and it does its little "yep, I'm locked" beep? It started sounding more like "I'm a dying duck put me out of my miser-quack."

Sewing drama

2007-02-21T16:48:00.000-08:00

DH's mom had surgery on her knee last night and will be out of commission for awhile. So we went over to drop off a massive bag of frozen meatballs I'd made so she won't have to worry about preparing meals or whatever.
While we were there, ON OUR MISSION OF MERCY, his mom told him that it was time that I asked her if she needed the sewing machine that I'd borrowed back.
(NOTE: I'd told her to just let me know when she needed it back and I'd be sure to get it back to her promptly.)
DH: "Oh, do you need it back? I'm sure Kate can bring it over tomorrow?"
DH's mom: "Oh, no, I don't need it back. It's just time she asked if I needed it back."
DH: "But you don't want it back?"
DH's mom: "No, it's just time she asked me if I needed it back."

I just kept telling DH, "I don't understand. I don't understand!"
And he kept just saying, "It's not you. She's crazy."
Me: "I'll give it back to her tomorrow!"
DH: "She doesn't want it back, she wants you to ask if she wants it back."
Me: "But I don't understand."
DH: "You're so naïve! You're so sweet! But you're SO NAÏVE!"
Me: "My family is so much easier to get along with!"
DH: "No, your family is crazy too, it's just different crazy."

When DH took the machine back today and she was all, "Did you correctly convey my message to Kate? I wanted to know what her intentions were."
And I was like, "Um, dude, I was going to borrow it until I got one of my own or until she wanted it back. What else was I going to do with it? Pawn it for crack money??"

Deadline nightmares

2007-02-21T11:15:00.000-08:00

I had a dream last night that I was in "Final Destination 4," only instead of keeping people from dying, I was trying to keep people on track to make deadline.
It was horrible.
Everyone screws up in a predesignated order.
And I kept being all like, "OMG, don't ask me that question. This is where we get derailed and MISS DEADLINE!!!"

Hot water gets me ... hot

2007-01-29T11:03:00.000-08:00

The best thing about oatmeal is that I can bring the little packets to work and use the hot water spigot to make it.
I'm apparently becoming a whore for things I can make with the hot water spigot.
I'm a hot water whore.
So steamy.

bad dream

2007-01-29T10:27:00.000-08:00

I had a nightmare last night that it was 9:57 a.m. and I couldn't find my way to work.
Part of the problem: I was in Kansas City.
So I decided the best thing to do would be to call Susan.
So I woke up saying the phrase, "Oh, Susan, I'm so lost!"
Then freaking out that I'd actually called her ...

Argh, co-workers

2007-01-20T18:08:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, the people I work with make me so mad that I want to hit them with a rock.
A rock of learning and compassion that will make them bleed love.

weird vampire dream ... I'll add more details later

2006-06-22T11:34:00.000-07:00

I had a dream about Denise last night. We were at work (but the office looked like my junior high) and I was her boss and we were talking about something, but she expressed a desire to do more writing (!!!) in her job.
This was before the teen vampires showed up. I was undercover reporting at a prom and we were up in a hotel room and they spotted me as a plant.
So I had to regulate.
Yes, inexplicably, they noticed I wasn't a high school student.

And so, life goes on ...

2006-06-20T11:00:00.000-07:00

A party, a move, a wedding ...
A never-ending cycle of planning, of finding stuff to toss (do I really need to keep the mix tapes I made in junior high? Answer: Maybe), of finding stuff to give away (those books that seemed such a good deal at $3 are so good if you don't read them), of finding stuff to pack for later (those water colors I never get a chance to use may yet see the light of day!).

I'm afraid of finding professional movers (every one I find has evil stuff said about them online -- PLEASE if you know good professional movers SEND ME A NOTE!!), but don't have friends who do heavy lifting.
It's almost to the point where I want to give everything except the boxes I can move myself away, then order new furniture delivered to the new place.

We don't want to register for gifts -- we don't need a sterling silver soup ladle and at 35 and 33, we have every kitchen utensil or bedsheet or towel we could ever need -- we want gift certificates. But how do you say that without seeming like money grubbers?

Ack, ack, ack ...

Listen to me complain about how much crap I have ...
God, I'm selfish.

my grandmother

2006-05-09T20:08:00.000-07:00

Mom went down this morning and found GM sleeping/passed out outside her bathroom. Apparently, her walker "got away" from her or folded up on her or she just passed out while walking.

My mom went to wake her, and she sort of mumbled, "This bed is so comfortable."

When my mom told her she wasn't in bed, GM was bewildered.

Mom called Liz to come over.

So, they called an albulance, who had to call the police because they couldn't lift her themselves, or were scared to try lifting them herselves in case they dropped and hurt her.

So, she goes to hospital, where they think they need to run tests on her, so they don't feed her all day, which does nothing to improve her mood. But they put off tests until tomorrow, so fed her dinner.

They find out that she's anemic (they think caused by the Fosomax), her oxygen is low, and she has congestic heart failure (Mom says it's not really that big a deal -- Nana was in CHF for 20 years).

So I asked if I could call GM in hosp. Mom says sure, that'd be nice.

I call, announce that I'm Kate from California. GM calls me Ann? And I say, no, it's Kate in California. And she calls me Ann and asks what I'm doing in California.

Well, we finally establish that I'm Kate, and she says something about how she's staying with these wonderful people (I'm guessing her roommates) and something about doctors and tests, then says she hopes to see me soon (I guess forgetting that we were just there). She talks about how she hates writing letters, but that she loves the green frog I sent her for Christmas.

I said, "Oh, did you know that Dave and I are engaged?" And she says, "Dave?" and I say, "yes, my boyfriend Dave and I are engaged." And she says, "Dave got engaged?" and I say, yes, he got engaged to me. We are engaged. And she says, he's engaged? To whom? And I say to me.

At which point she says, "Did I meet Dave?"

"Yes, Grandmother, you met Dave. He's very tall."

"Hmph."

bad week

2006-04-28T22:06:00.000-07:00

This week has been the worst. The worst ever.
My glasses are broken, my boyfriend's 15-year-old car has broken down, and today, I was forced to wear my skinny jeans (OK, my skinniER jeans) because I've just been too damn tired to do laundry.
I'm not saying these are the trials of Job, but for the love of all that is right with the world, I've never been so frickin' glad to see Friday.
On the one hand, if we can get through a week like this, we're going to be fine.
But I so wish that everything would just go normally.
I'm so frustrated.
My head hurts, I'm annoyed with, just, EVERYTHING AND EVERYONE, and I just want to crawl inside a wine bottle and curl into the fetal position in its curves.

At the 11th annual Run for the Bay

2006-04-09T22:32:00.000-07:00

So, in continuing my quest for athletic greatness, I participated in the Loyola Marymount University's Run for the Bay 5K yesterday.
First of all, the drive out. Even though LA's only about 50 miles away, I always leave about an hour and a half to get anywhere because the traffic is always such BS. Seriously, I can't believe it. No matter where you're trying to go, there are hundreds, if not thousands of people, trying to go exactly the same place. It's maddening. Anyway, everything seems to be going smoothly, the Mapquest directions haven't seemed to lead me astray ... right up to the point where I'm supposed to get on the 405 south.
(If you don't know the Los Angeles area, it doesn't really matter. Suffice to say, the place is built like a heart, only with several more ateries and veins and a bucket more plaque. If your heart worked like the LA traffic arteries, you'd be dead.)
Anyway, on this beautiful day, the exit to the 405 south is closed. There's a sign that alludes to a detour, so I take that exit, and promptly see a sign on the right side of the street that says detour. The arrow points somewhere over there *gesturing wildly somewhere up and to the left*. Well, "over there" is a random wild field, and I'm pretty sure it's not the detour to the 405 south.
I keep driving, and driving, and driving ... and right about the point I get to a residential district is about the point I figure I need to turn around.
So I turn around and head back to the highway. I get back on the highway I'd been on before, figuring if I can't figure my way to the 5K, I can just head home.
And just when I start thinking that'd be an awesome idea, I come across the 405 south exit from the other way. Spectacular!
I get to the 5K and sign up and have actually made it in enough time to do my pre-race routine of taking the goodie bag and T-shirt back to the car (OMG, do I love the free T-shirts. I realize they're cheap and all that, but there's something about racking up this evidence of my ability to walk 3 miles that is incredibly validating), and walking around and stretching.
Though I usually take my camera on these jaunts, I decide against it this time, figuring I can try to go for a good time, and if I see anything I like, I can just go back and take pictures.
So the race starts and I do my walk-run-walk routine, mostly in an attempt to get away from the annoying girly-girl chatter coming from the four girls behind me. The routine does the job and soon I'm on my way.
The LMU campus is beautiful and there's a lot to see ... but somewhere in the middle of this 5K course, someone has decided to send us down this long hill (not too bad) and back up the steepest mofo any poor bastard put on a college campus.
I get to the turning point, and the little girl (like 20, or so) who's there offers encouraging words:
Little girl: Way to go! Just head back that way!
Me: Right. Up that massive flipping hill.
Little girl: Yep!
Easy for her to be cheerful: She gets to stand there and wave people in the right direction.
SO I make the turn and head back up and trudge my way along the rest of the course, which takes us over all parts of the campus.
Toward the end, I'm on a stretch of road more or less by myself. I'm already hot and sweaty but figure I can run a little more. So I give it my all ... and about a minute later am just regretting the whole thing. So I swear softly and stop running ...
at which point a woman running the 10K being held at the same time completely laps me.
But as she passes, she says, "Keep it up, mama. I see you working!"
And I was!
To the point where I finished with a time of 46:18 (check it out here http://www.active.com/results/viewresults_multiple.cfm?filename=1275619_20060409021342.txt).
And I called, like, everyone to tell them.
My competitive spirit swelled: I beat my previous best time, I beat people who were younger (and more fit) than I am, and I was able to still stand at the end of it.
The only smudge on the shine of the day: Is it wrong that I'm thrilled that I beat a guy wearing knee braces?

OMG, I love my office

2006-04-07T16:08:00.000-07:00

funny convo. I overheard in our office (I'm filling in the blanks for the caller's side):
Help desk person: "So you called us earlier and already spoke to someone about this?"
Caller: "Yes, are you the woman I spoke to earlier?"
Help desk person (who is male, BTW): "I can say with certainty that I'm not the woman you spoke to earlier."

saying of the day

2006-04-04T16:32:00.000-07:00

Optimism is the slender strand that tethers parts of my soul together.

Unlikely comparison

2006-03-09T23:05:00.000-08:00

From a story about record companies not posting singles to networks like iTunes because the sales are cutting into album sales.

Tony Brummel, the owner of the independent rock label Victory Records, says he is not interested in selling individual songs from his albums. A rock album, Brummel said, “is a work of art.”

“If you’re buying a Picasso,” he continued, “you can’t just buy the upper right-hand corner.”

Umm, I don't know that Ne-Yo's "So Sick" exactly compares to a Picasso.

Lunch break whimsy

2006-03-08T23:09:00.000-08:00

Funny things I saw on my lunch break:

1) A woman with a tattoo on her throat.

2) A guy with sneakers colored and designed like old-school spats.

Where? "Hair"

2006-03-06T23:13:00.000-08:00

So, this exercise program we're on: One of th days is walk for five minutes to warm up, then for 12 minutes at a faster pace, then run for a minute, then walk and run again.
Anyway, I decided to watch "Hair" while doing my walk tonight.
And during the first minute-long run we're supposed to throw in? A song - sung by a black character - "glorifying" the names people have called black people through the years comes on.
And I was so busy trying to forward through it so neighbors wouldn't hear it and get the wrong idea, I ran a minute and a half.

Goodbye, white

2006-03-05T23:18:00.000-08:00

So, I'm trying to break in a new pair of sneakers.
And right now, they're pristine white.
And it occurs to me that I'm going to be kind of upset when they start getting all smudgy.

But there's no way to prevent it.

Getting exercise

2006-02-28T22:03:00.000-08:00

So, we're trying to get more exercise.
It's hard to get out of bed some mornings. Well, not that it's hard. More that it's too easy to just lie there.
At the least, I can always say I'm being nice to the cats. After all, there's nothing worse than disturbing the living, breathing heating pad curled up next to your feet.
But exercising after work isn't much better.
I ike coming home, putting on the PJs and shop online to reward myself for not freaking out at work and finally telling the people I work with exactly where they can stick their stupid questions and deadline-pushing mistakes.
Magazines make it seem so easy to find 10 minutes here or there to work out. Again, it's not that there's no time, it's just easier to find other things to do.
I actually weigh the options: Should I sit and watch TV or read a book, or spend the time ignoring every cell in my body that screams in torture from the minute the sweat pants go on?
I always think it's funny when articles say, "Work out on your lunch hour!" Where do these people work where either they can take the time to work out for an hour, then re-shower to come back to work, or where they can go work out and just come back to work all smelly?

A victory over e-mail

2006-02-23T22:28:00.000-08:00

Whoo-hoo! The number of deleted items in my e-mail matches the number of items in the in-box!

Note: This is as oppsed to being tilted 1 percent in deleted to 99 percent in inbox.

A nice visit

2006-02-20T22:58:00.000-08:00

About 11 this morning, I got a call from a friend who moved coastal last year.
Mel was coming up to see the mountains, now covered with snow, that he used to see every day on his way to work when he lived here in Riverside.
So he was going to be up in my neck of the woods, and did I want to meet and have lunch.
We ate at a local Japanese restaurant (Cali rolls are the debbil) and had Cold Stone Creamery after (delish! It's got to be bad for you, but at least it's good for your soul, and to be honest, sometimes you just want to wallow in chocolate like it's a sweet spa).
It was such a nice surprise. Here's hoping it's a good omen for the rest of the week!

I feel awful

2006-02-18T12:57:00.000-08:00

Oh my god, am I ever sick. I thought when you lived in Southern California, it was too warm to get sick! But here I am, at home on a Saturday afternoon, wrapped up in a heating blanket, surrounded by my cats, and coughing and blowing my nose to rid my bug-ridden body of generic goo.
I hate being sick, especially on the weekends. It's like a waste of perfectly good time away from work.
I'd rather be sick during the week. I don't call in sick, though. If I'm going to be miserable, I may as well go to work.
Besides, if I call in sick to work, I feel like I'm letting people down, or that people think I'm lying about being sick (just because I think that when other people call in sick. You can always tough it out and go to work).
My parents never called in sick, not ever. My mom was back teaching two weeks after delivering each of us. My dad went back to work a month and a half after a massive heart attack.
Obviously, that's had an effect.
Really, though, the fact that I'm sick isn't that big a surprise. I work in a huge office, lots of shared computers and phones (nomadic employees, you see), and it seems like if one person gets sick, it's only a matter of time before others get sick.
And I'm sick!
:-(
If I thought being sick was miserable when I was a kid (no running around, no playing outside, and if your parents quaratined you like mine did, no TV, since the only TV was in the living room), it's even worse when you're an adult and you either have to take care of yourself, or ask your friends to help you.
Luckily, my boyfriend is emotionally, if not legally obligated to help me, getting me drinks, putting on DVDs I want to watch, going and getting me McDonald's (even though it's his D&D day with the boys).
That's nice.
Also nice: According to my usual sick cycle, this day will be the worst of it!
Hurrah for my body's immune system!!!

Notes from Bush

2006-02-16T17:22:00.000-08:00

WASHINGTON (Feb. 16) - President Bush said Thursday he was satisfied with Vice President Dick Cheney's explanation about his shooting accident, and Texas authorities said they had closed their investigation without filing any charges.
"I thought the vice president handled the issue just fine," the president said in his first public comments on Saturday's accident. "I thought his explanation yesterday was a powerful explanation.
"Shucks, it started with 'Once upon a time.' Ever'body knows I like my stories like that."

NOTE: some comments above are false so to make with the funny.

Enh, it's probably already been done

2006-02-16T15:21:00.000-08:00

Haha, I just thought of this: When Cheney has a gun, it's duck season for everyone around him.

Comment from the victim, I mean, the new cabinet member

2006-02-15T22:30:00.000-08:00

Through hospital officials, Harry Whittington has declined to comment.
"He still kind of wonders what all the hoopla is about," said Peter Banko, administrator of Christus Spohn Hospital Corpus Christi-Memorial.

Dude.
You got shot.
By the VP.
Of the United States.

"You rapscallions with your 'media' and your 'questions'! I miss the good ol' days when a man could shoot a man and there weren't no fuss. You whippersnappers just look to stir up trouble!"

Comments from Dick Cheney

2006-02-15T17:11:00.000-08:00

(AP)-Dick Cheney was soft-spoken and appeared shaken as he described seeing 78-year-old Harry Whittington drop to the ground after he pulled the trigger on his 28-gauge shotgun while aiming at a covey of quail.
"The image of him falling is something I'll never ever be able to get out of my mind," Cheney said. "I fired, and there's Harry falling. It was, I'd have to say, one of the worst days of my life at that moment."
Cheney said that later, though, after he'd thought about it, it was pretty cool, especially since he's never been in the military at all and has never been to war.
"I mean, at that MOMENT, it was the worst day of my life. But in the time since, it's sort of mellowed. Now, on the list of bad things that've happened to me, it's even lower than the massive and multiple heart attacks and the removal of my soul.
"Think about it: Who else gets to shoot someone and watch how it all plays out? Come on. I'm the vice president. That's, like, the ultimate get out of jail free card!
"What am I saying? I'm not going to jail!"

NOTE: some comments above are false so to make with the funny.

Now he wants a license to shoot

2006-02-15T09:07:00.000-08:00

So I guess that settles it: For 7 dollars, Dick Cheney's shooting of that lawyer would have been legal.

www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2006/02/20060213-10.html

Statement by the Office of the Vice President

It has been brought to the Vice President's attention by the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department this afternoon that, although he had acquired a 125 dollar Texas non-resident season hunting license, he lacked a 7 dollar stamp for hunting upland game birds. To address any questions about the licensing:

-- A member of the Vice President's staff wrote a check for 140 dollars understanding that this would purchase a Texas non-resident season hunting license that would permit the Vice President to hunt quail in Texas. It appears now that the license itself cost 125 dollars, and an extra 15 dollars covered the cost of a Federal migratory bird stamp. The Vice President did not need the Federal stamp, as he already possessed one.

-- The staff asked for all permits needed, but was not informed of the 7 dollar upland game bird stamp requirement.

-- Because the requirement is new, the Department has informed us that it is issuing warnings, and the Vice President expects to receive one. He will take whatever steps are needed to comply with applicable rules.

-- In the meantime, the Vice President has sent a 7 dollar check to the Texas Parks and Wildlife Department, which is the cost of an upland game bird stamp.

Snowboarding hell

2006-02-07T23:06:00.000-08:00

I have friends who've enjoyed snowboarding, so I decided to try it.
In doing so, I discovered I'M TERRIBLE AT IT!
Because I wouldn't know if I liked it or not, I decided not to invest in anything more than gloves, so I went up in jeans and flannel. I figured it had been good enough for winters in the Midwest, it must be OK for snowboarding in Southern California.
So, I get up to the resort and rent the board and boots and all and head up to the lessons area.
The instructor couldn't have been nicer, but his niceness was no cushion for my bootie.
I couldn't even make it down the babiest bunny slope without falling every 5 feet or so.
Encouraged by the instructor's enthusiasm, I make it to the ski lift, where he waits for me so we can get to the upper hill, strap both feet on to the board and commit more acts of torture on ourselves.
We get on the lift and he spends the 3 and a half minutes giving me a pep talk, saying that he likes the fact that every time I fall, I get back up. And that he won't give up if I don't give up. Very, very encouraging.
We get to the top and I strap in. And every other person in the class just starts going down the hill. And I'm still shimmying my way to the top of the run.
But the story is no different than the bunny slope story: Every five feet, I lose my balance, plop down and slide about five more feet.
Only now, because my jeans are wet, they are leaving big denim blue streaks every time I fall.
So I get about 25 feet down the hill, look up and there are blue streaks about every 5 feet.
And I'm getting cold from falling on my butt and my knees are hurting from falling. But every time I fall, I have to roll over on to my knees because it's easier for me to get up that way.
About two-thirds of the way down the hill, though, I try to get up and instead fall backward and hit my frickin' head.
So I lie there for a minute contemplating how nice the sky looks, so clear and blue.
From downhill, I hear the instructor yell, "Are you OK?" followed by the crunching sound of him running up the icy hill.
"Oh, yeah," I say. "I'm just not used to hitting my head."
OK, he says. So he decides that we'll go down tandem, or something like that. He'll guide me and I'll power. But, he says, I have to pay attention and do exactly what he says. And he won't give up if I don't give up.
So he helps me up. And then he gets up.
And says, "OK, move that way," and points to the right.
And I start scootching.
And fall again.
And hit my head again.
That's about the point at which I give up.
I mean, considering the fact that I'm not, umm, coordinated or, umm, physically fit, snowboarding is apparently not my thing.
Plus my brain's pretty much what I have going for me. It's one of the body parts I have the most fun with.
I can't risk smearing it all over ice!

5Ks and beyond

2006-01-27T22:29:00.000-08:00

We decided we're going to train for the Disneyland half marathon in September.
Since we're both overweight and lazy, this presents a unique challenge for our bodies and our minds.
But we're going to start off slowly. We did several 5Ks last year, starting with the 5K that was part of the LA Marathon. Our time there was 1:06, and we've done under an hour each 5K since. My personal best is something like 48-50 minutes for a 5K in Malibu last year.
But this half marathon seems fairly daunting. It will be the longest event either of us has done in both time and distance.
I can't imagine spending three and a half hours doing something I like, let alone three and a half hours running (the half marathon has a time limit of 3.5 hours, meaning we'd have to maintain a speed of something like 3.75 miles an hour to make it. Right now, we're at about 3 miles an hour.).
Luckily, there are plenty of training programs available online.
The bad part? They all assume that people seeking these plans have at least a passing relationship with exercise.
Exercise and I are like bad one-night stand participants: I get all dressed up, we meet and flirt, and have fun for about an hour, but afterward, I stumble out into the morning light, muscles crying and head pounding.
But, for now, my next step is running a 5K. I think I can do it, at least, if I can manage to keep myself from stopping and taking pictures every quarter of a mile.
Dave's thinking big, though: A couple days ago, as we were talking about the half marathon, he asked, "So, after we complete this half marathon, do we want to think about running a marathon?"
It's good to dream.

lala

2005-09-28T21:47:00.000-07:00

adopt your own virtual pet!

weirdo dream

2005-09-28T08:15:00.000-07:00

I had a dream that Dave and I went to see a concert by Crystal Gayle and Loretta Lynn and, like, Loretta Lynn's mom, and at some point in the concert, they come out dressed as characters from "Star Wars." There's a Plexiglass wall set up around them and they bring out their "lightsabers" and every time they hit the wall with them, the wall sparks (it's full of pressure-sensitive fiber optics or something).
Anyway, at some point, Lynn (in a Darth Vader costume) "strikes down" Gayle (who is playing Luke Skywalker) and starts telling her to admit that Lynn is her father.
From that vantage point, we can see that Gayle has had breast implants recently (keep in mind, this isn't true) and that there are huge scars.
So anyway, we go home and go to sleep. When I wake up the next morning, I discover (to my dismay) that I've been given breast implants and have huge scars under my breasts and that my breast are now hard lumps.
I freak out and start rubbing them, trying to soften them up ('cause from what I understand, isn't that part of the procedure?).

GROSS!

Why I love this GIF movie gear

2005-09-18T11:53:00.000-07:00

Dang, I'm going to make these forever!

All sorts of experiments

2005-09-17T23:48:00.000-07:00

Not only am I playing with animated gifs, but I'm also experimenting with being a fish owner.
Copying after a friend of mine out here, Dave and I added to our little family with a beta fish (beta or betta? I'd always thought it was beta, but the food we got for it and some advice sites say betta). Ours is not nearly as brightly colored as hers is (hers is the beautiful red and blue, ours is just sort of pink. Maybe it's albino?), but we got it because, well, dang, they sure are relaxing to look at! If only they came out with, like, a easy-transport fish you could take to work every day. We named him Tonti, and the cats are not interested in him at all so far. If he makes it to the two week mark, maybe we'll get a second one!

2005-09-17T21:28:00.000-07:00

Ain't nothin' goin' on but the rent

2005-09-17T19:27:00.000-07:00

I'm not really doing anything, just trying to avoid editing pictures I took in Las Vegas last weekend and watching "The Big Lebowski."
I'm pretty lazy but only when it has to do with my personal life.
Jeff Bridges is such an incredibly underrated actor. In fact, he may be one of the most underrated actors of our time. What other actor could could play characters as varied as "The Dude" Lebowski, Starman and "Wild Bill" Hickok in one career?
And "Starman" was such an underrated movie. John Carpenter's only Oscar-nominated film. Not that all of his are stellar, but a good horror film has got to count for something.
Minute for minute, "The Fog" is an awesomely thrilling horror movie.
I can't believe they're remaking it. Is nothing safe from the scourge of remakes?
"Revenge of the Nerds" isn't. It's being remade, but will probably get remade into a bland little PG-13 P.O.S., lacking scenes where they break into the sorority house to plant cameras to catch a sight of "hair pie," or adding a back story for the football coach to explain his asshole-osity, something about how when he was growing up, his father ignored him.
I'm not claiming "Revenge of the Nerds" is a great American film, but dammit, it sure is funny.
PC is the death of comedy.
Like, "Porky's" probably wouldn't get made today. Not only is there too much winky for an American movie (even though it's Canadian, I believe), it's also pretty irreverent.
In fact, the only thing out today that stacks up is "Arrested Development." And it's on the verge of cancellation.
Holy crap, I think the actor who plays the youngest son on that plays the giggling dude in Maude's studio in "The Big Lebowski."
I'm gonna go check that out.
...
Nope, it's not listed on imdb and googling "Tony Hale" and "Big Lebowski" doesn't help.
Poop!

MP3 Philosophy

2005-08-30T22:31:00.000-07:00

Playing on the MP3 Player: "You Always Hurt the One you Love" by Brenda
Lee

Philosophical Realization: What a stupid song. If you loved them you
wouldn't hurt them. I think it's more like "The One You Love Always Hurts
You."

Episode 11-15-2002: Where I Pick Up Hitchhikers

2005-08-25T21:17:00.000-07:00

I was living in Springfield, Mo., at the time, working the evening shift at the News-Leader.
I get off work one night just as the bars downtown are closing, and as I'm driving home, two men carrying cups (of what I assume was, well, alcohol) stumble into the street in front of my car. So I stop to let them pass, not realizing that the path they are intent on following was still on the road.
At the point they finally get off to the side of the road, they have their thumbs out in the classic "hey, give us a ride -- we're drunk, dammit" position, and I pull up even with them.
I roll down my window, which they take as a sign that I'm going to help them, and crowd around my window, much like animals at a drive-through park waiting to get fed.
"Hey, we need a rrrrrrride. Can you give us a rrrrrrrrrrrrrride?"
This is the taller, bigger and swarthier of the two talking. When I'd first spotted them, in fact, my first thought was that he looked like my brother.
He puts his arm around his slighter friend, a guy who looked, now that I think of it, like a miniature version of a guy I'd gone to high school with, all freckles-on-pasty-skin and red hair and oddly bulbous features.
"I's his 21st birthday ... and i's COLD!"
(Author's note 1: He really did pronounce "it's" as "i's")
(Author's note 2: It WAS cold. In fact, I think the low was to be maybe 28 degrees that night.)
"I'd really like to help you out," I sayid, "but I don't have enough room for both of you."
I gesture to my back seat, which is full of bags from a recent visit home, a box of food my nana who starved herself to death a month later had insisted we take with us the last time we had visited her, and the ubiquitous generic crap that never makes it from my car to the house.
"Oh, c'mon," Swarthy Boy says. "I's his BIRTHDAY."
"An' I'm drunk," Mini-Carrot Top pipes up.
Swarthy Boy chimes in again: "An' i's not that far ... an' I can sit in back."
This is funny and not at all scary, just weird in a Bermuda Triangle-in-downtown-Springfield kind of way.
What the hell ...
"Sure, fine," I say, "but one of you" - I point to the smaller one -- "is going to have to sit on the other one's lap" -- and I point to the bigger one.
They grin and run around to the passenger side of the car.
Swarthy Boy opens the back door and looks a the massive amount of crap there, and says what shall resound through the ages as one of the Ultimate Truths, one of the declarative statements that echoes through philosophy books that are studied for eons:
"You got a lot of crap in your car."
Yes, well ...
"That's why one of you's gonna have to sit on the other's lap."
SO Swarthy Boy sits in the passenger seat, and Mini-Carrot Top gets in on top of him.
They get situated and shut the door, at which point Mini-Carrot Top looks over at me: "I's my birthday. I'm 21 today."
So off we go, them giving me directions, me thinking what I'll do if they suddenly say, "Hey, by the way, we live in Arkansas."
I turn up the heat.
Swarthy Boy: "Thank you, thank you. I's his birthday and i's cold and we're druuuuunk."
Me: "Hey, no problem. Besides, the last thing you want on a birthday is to get hypothermia."
Swarthy Boy: "That's right. You don' wanna get hypothermia on your birthday."
That's Mini-Carrot Top's cue. "I's my birthday. I'm 21 an' my head's in a windshield."
(Author's note 3: His head was indeed in the windshield.)
(Author's note 4: At this point, I'm hoping against hope that Mini-Carrot Top won't puke in my car.)
Me: "So, how are you now?"
Swarthy Boy: "We're druuuuuuuuuuuuunk, and we were walking home, an' i's cold, did you know i's cold, and we were hopin' we'd get a ride from some sweet woman, an' here you are."
Awwww ...
The radio is tuned to the regional Old Tyme Music station, one that usually plays standards from the '40s through the '70s, but right now, it's the jazz hour. I don't remember exactly what's playing, but it's definitely jazz.
Swarthy Boy: "Do you like jazz?"
Me: "Who doesn't?"
Swarthy Boy: "I like jazz." (long pause) "I like whacking off to it."
Mini-Carrot Top: "He whacks off the jazz music."
Me: "I can understand that. It has a good beat, but it's kind of sassy at the same time."
Swarthy Boy: "I wanna whack off now."
Mini-Carrot Top: "Dude, I'm on your lap."
And indeed, he is.
Swarthy Boy looks around the car and into the back seat.
"You should clean your car."
I'll take that under advisement, since we're all such buddies now. God forbid my car not meet the oh-so-high-and-lofty standards of a couple of downtown Springfield hitchhikers.
Mini-Carrot Top: "I's my birthday."
(Author's note 5: Nov. 15 is the birthday of some random miniature version of Carrot Top who lives in Springfield, Mo.)
Swarthy Boy: "You should blow him."
Me: "Maybe not, but thanks all the same."
Swarthy Boy: "But i's his birthday."
Me: "Yeah, but all the same, not quite thinking that's going to happen. Besides" -- I gesture toward a stain at the crotch of Mini-Carrot Top's shirt -- "judging by that stain, it looks like someone already got there."
Mini-Carrot Top (looking down in wonder): "There's somethin' on my shir'!"
Swarthy Boy: "Dude, that's where I spilled beer on you." (to me) "C'mon, blow him."
Me: "Judging by the state you're in, I think it'd be a case of the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak."
(Author's note 6: At this point, I'm thinking, If you guys were sober, you'd be thinking this was one hell of a funny conversation.")
By this point, we're closing in on their home.
They point me down a one-way street (going the wrong way, of course, kind of symbolic of the whole trip, actually), point at a house that's all lit up and has the front door open, and I pull up to it and stop.
Whatever, I think.
Even if it's not a house they know, or even belong to, once they get out of my car, I figure my Karmic Credit Plan's paid up for awhile.
Mini-Carrot Top opens the passenger door and gets out.
Mini-Carrot Top: "Than' you."
Me: "Have a happy rest of your birthday."
Mini-Carrot Top flutters his fingers and goes to the house.
I look at Swarthy Boy.
Swarthy Boy: "He'd have a better birthday if you blow him."
Me: "Yeah, no, not so much that's going to happen."
Swarthy Boy: "OK."
He gets out of the car, the leans back in, his hands on the seat. Then he bends down even further and picks up an empty Diet Coke bottle that's on the floor.
He looks at it, turning it a little, then drops it.
"You gotta clean your car. I's a fuckin' pigsty."
And with that, he shuts the door and walks into the night, leaving behind nothing but the astounding truth of his final statement lingering in the air as any proof that he'd been there at all.

Found on amazon.com

2005-08-23T21:53:00.000-07:00

This was on the page for Motley Crue's "Red, White & Crue":

Not The Complete Hitz!! Support Emo And Nu-Medal Instead!!!, August 22, 2005
Reviewer: Fred Dursts Numba One Fann (The Ghetto's of Guam) - See all my reviews

Yo yo my peeps, how ya'll be hangin' dis nite?? I recently purchased this album expecting all kind of killa hitz from Motley Crew, boy was I let down by the track listing they chose!! Come on now, just how the hekk can ya have a Motley Crew compilation and not include timeless hitz like "Round And Round", "Lovin' You's A Dirty Job", "Lay It Down", "Back For More", "You're In Love", "Wanted Man", "Way Cool Jr.", "Slip Of The Lip", "Body Talk", "Lack Of Communication", "I Want A Woman" and "Nobody Rides For Free"!!! The rekord company really let us down here peeps, so look to today's awesome talent in the music fields of emo, pop-punk, ghetto rapp and of course nu-medal!! This Vince Pearcy guy isn't really the best singer around, and the rest of the band dress dark and wear make-up just cuz Good Charlotte and My Chemical Romance made it cool to do it on TRL!!! You'll thank me later when you let go of this old, wacked out musik and suport the likes of Limp Bizzkit, Linkin Park, KoRn, Slipknot, Mudvayne, Disturbed, Atreyu, Trapt, Papa Roach, Kidd Rokk, Staind, Good Charlotte, Weezer, My Chemical Romance, Simple Plan, Nelly, Chingy, Ja Rule, 50 Cent, U$her, Juvenile, Ludacris, the funny yet brutal Green Day and those silly cowboys---Toby Keith, Garth Brooks and the cute Kenny Chesney-Zwellwigger!! Peace out my girls, girls, girls...

For someone who goes on to dismiss Motley Crue, he sure knows a lot about songs they left off this set.
And while he's "Fred Dursts Numba One Fann," he can't even spell that name of Durst's band correctly (in fact, spelling it incorrectly even differently than it's correctly spelled incorrectly).
And it kind of sickens me that he thinks male band members in makeup started with Good Charlotte and My Chemical Romance on TRL.

Holy crap. If I actually thought this person was for real, I'd have to laugh in his face for his stupidity and weep at the culture that created him.

Weird-ass KISS dream

2005-08-23T20:13:00.000-07:00

In this dream, my mom, dad and I are going to Maine with my Uncle Henry so he can visit some people he went to college with. When we get there, it turns out that they're the parents of the original KISS members, who are living together in a small apartment a la "The Monkees."
So, my mom, dad and Uncle Henry go to visit with my uncle's friends, leaving me in KISS' apartment.
The apartment is in a converted Victorian house, maybe on the second floor.
There are plants hung '70s style in macrame baskets all over the room.
One wall of their living room is book shelves top to bottom, and there's an entertainment center with a huge TV right in the center. There's a couch right in front of the shelves facing the TV.
The wall to the right has two windows that lead out to the fire escape, a huge iron staircase and "balcony" that overlooks the parking lot and a back alley. The dining table is on the back wall under another two windows.
And on the wall to the left, the wall with the front door, is a bar.
Whereas the wall with the TV has shelves full of books, this wall is top to bottom BOOZE.
This looks like the wet bar that Dudley Moore's character in "Foul Play" would have had, down to a mirror behind the liquor shelves.
It's Bacchus' downfall.
I'm sitting on one end of the couch watching TV when in walk KISS.
Two of them head behind the bar to mix drinks, one sits on a bar stool and starts playing with a caged bird at the end of the bar, and Gene Simmons (OF COURSE I recognize Gene Simmons) comes and sits at the other end of the couch to portion out marijuana into baggies to sell.
He scowls at me when I try to talk to him, so I just sit back to watch TV.
Eventually, he just sort of grunts and tosses a joint to me.
I thank him, and he just grunts again.
I light it up and get two good lungfuls when half the pot falls out of the rolling paper onto my shirt.
From out of nowhere, a kitten hops on my lap, eats some of the pot and IMMEDIATELY just takes off rocketing around the apartment. Were this a cartoon, you'd see clouds of dust kicked up as the speedy cat blurred itself into oblivion.
For some reason, this INFURIATES Gene Simmons, who stands up and starts bitching about why did I do that and how did I let that happen.
I stand up, too, noticing that he's much shorter than I thought, and as the cat starts weaving figure 8s around our legs, I'm struck by the realization that the cats was ALL OVER the pot.
And that seems curious.
I point at Gene.
"YOU'RE CUTTING THE POT WITH CATNIP!"
He stamps his feet, frightening the cat.
"NO, I'M NOT!"
"You ARE! You MUST BE! There's no reason the cat would have done that ..."
His roommates are enjoying the show as Gene just gets madder and madder.
Finally, he gives up, and reminds his roommates, "We gotta go find my sister."
Turns out, his younger sister (played in this dream by my friend Meredith) had run away and he and KISS have to go find her.

Regarding weird band names

2005-08-19T18:08:00.000-07:00

Further evidence of the weirdness of people in bands these are real band names:
* Throwdown
* Turmoil
* Most Precious Blood
* Remembering Never
* The Agony Scene
* Scars of Tomorrow
* At All Cost
* From Autumn To Ashes
* Rise Against

"Honky"

2005-08-19T18:05:00.000-07:00

This guy I work with got sent to cover a shooting and when he was trying to interview the dead guy's survivors, they got really upset and some guy called my co-worker a "mother-fucking honky."

I didn't even know people still used that word as an insult. I'm not sure if that means that I CANNOT just start calling people "honky" instead of, say, "dude," or if I SHOULD start using it to show that I'm "owning" the word and that therefore it can't be used to insult me.
I also thought it was funny because it's just so obvious. I mean, this guy is so white, he's clear, for crying out loud.

Testing this out

2005-08-18T19:48:00.000-07:00

Apparently, I'm supposed to be able to post by sending stuff to an e-mail address. I tried this before with NO success. Fingers crossed for this.

Remake fever

2005-08-18T19:35:00.000-07:00

Touchstone Pictures has picked up "Blowback," a buddy action comedy with Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson and Ryan Reynolds attached. The high-concept project is being described as a modern-day "Lethal Weapon." The two main characters are San Francisco cops.

I thought "Lethal Weapon" WAS a modern-day "Lethal Weapon."

The tale of the flickering light

2005-08-18T19:31:00.000-07:00

For months, the fluorescent light above my desk has had a slight, but constant flicker.
I think it's getting more and more depressing, like Fight Club depressing where suddenly the flickering light is occupying my every workday thought.
In my mind, I keep closing in on it and it's getting bigger and bigger and bigger, like an unchecked tumor pushing on my brain.
I imagine that the walls are that weird medical green and that there's a fly stuck somewhere, its buzzing accompanying the flicker in some Teddy Ruxpin-ish symbiosis.
It's funny how right before people go completely nuts in movies, they achieve exactly the same sense of clarity to where they notice crap like bugs caught in lights and stuff like that.

Wonder when I'm going to snap ...

:)

High hopes

2005-08-18T19:26:00.000-07:00

Apparently from the World Entertainment News Network:

Sylvester Stallone's mother Jackie is urging movie beauty Angelina Jolie to play her in a film the Rambo star is making about her colourful life.
The celebrity astrologer has worked as a circus rider, a trapeze artist, a dermatologist, a trainer of two psychic dogs and appeared on British reality TV show Celebrity Big Brother earlier this year (05).
And her doting son insists her experiences would make a gripping movie, particularly if the Tomb Raider star gives in to his mother's demands, reports British newspaper the Daily Mail.
An insider says, "Jackie's adamant. She wants to be played by Angelina Jolie."

As long as we're playing the laughably improbable card, I want Nicole Kidman to play me.

Truth in advertising?

2005-08-18T19:18:00.000-07:00

LOS ANGELES (Hollywood Reporter) - David Arquette and Richard T. Jones will save the world in a real-time CBS TV movie tentatively titled "Time Bomb."

Considering it's starring David Arquette, maybe the name should just be "Bomb."

FREAK OUTS!

2005-08-18T19:12:00.000-07:00

My parents have had a ton of stuff in storage for me since I moved to California in January 2003.
About three days ago, my mom sends me this FRANTIC e-mail talking about how she's trying to get rid of some junk while keeping the important stuff, and she knows my my sister wants to get in the storage shed to get some stuff and wouldn't it be nice to be able to move all the stuff to a smaller storage shed, basically saying she wants me to come home and go through it all and toss some stuff and freak out freak out freak out.
So I frantically try to figure out when we could go out there and deal with it and money for tickets and when could my boyfriend and I take off work and I send her e-mails about plans and options and freak out freak out freak out.
And she's not responding to my e-mails or calling back or anything and I'm getting more and more frantic.
So I FINALLY talk to her and she's like, "I said that? I must have been having a bad day!"

Dead frog, red eye

2005-08-11T20:30:00.000-07:00

I found a dead frog inside our apartment! Gross! I'd moved one of the cat beds and saw a shadow there. At first, I thought/hoped it was a leaf, but the Kansas in me said, "Hope all you want, but guess what, that's a frog shape." The light in the room it was in is bad, but I sure as heck didn't want to touch it, so I (in typical Kate fashion) contented myself with taking picture after picture of it to satisfy my curiosity and confirm that it was indeed a dead frog, then waited for Dave to come home and clean it up. (That may sound stereotypical and sexist, but the deal is that I deal with spiders and bugs, and he gets the amphibians. Considering he's so tall he ends up getting the bugs that are too high for me to get, I'm sure I'm getting the better of the deal.)

After we found the frog, I went on a massive cleaning jag (a FROG, for crying out loud) and burst a blood vessel in my eye while moving furniture. Nothing was wrong, it just looked bad!

My "Seinfeld" episode idea

2005-08-11T13:40:00.000-07:00

Jerry does something to some woman while ______ (fill in the blank. Maybe they're in line at the dry cleaner's, or he steals a parking space from her but thinks he deserved it, whatever). That woman knows Elaine but doesn't know Jerry, so she complains to Elaine about Jerry. Jerry's talking to Kramer about this run-in with the random person when Elaine comes in and starts complaing about what this rude guy did to her friend.
Then Elaine gets the idea to set up Jerry and this random friend up on a blind date.
Jerry and the woman meet at the restaurant but don't realize that they're the blind date duo, but recognize each other from the run-in, so start fighting again about _______(the place in line, who was at the dry cleaner's first, who deserved the parking space, whatever).
So they're fighting and Elaine shows up to spy on the blind date.
Obviously it's going poorly. The random woman storms out, leaving Jerry and Elaine alone.
And then some clever ending.

Dark and sad

2005-08-10T13:12:00.000-07:00

Some record coompany that has a boatload of those "rah rah, kill kill, die die die" types of bands is having an all-star tribute CD in the fall. I think all these bands are a bit too aggressive for most people, so I wonder who's going to buy it.
The bands have names like Life Of Agony and Coal Chamber and songs like "Tired 'N Lonely," "Annihilation by the Hand of God" and "The Enemy."
And I'm not making those up.
It would be easy to say there was a band called At the Devil's Right Hand or something like that to scare you, but the fact that a band actually sat down and decided to call itself Life of Agony is bizarre.
I just have to think that those people are just like, "Hmm, what sounds really nasty that we can be all posy and dark about? I know! Pus-Filled Heart! That's AWESOME!"
And that's just sad.

Weird dream

2005-08-02T20:41:00.000-07:00

I meet Ben Stiller and Owen Wilson in a mall bar, then we go to see "Wedding Crashers." We are the only people in the theater.
In the theater next door are the contestants from "I Want to be a Hilton," and I take pics of them as they ham it up for the camera. Then I go back to watch the movie with Ben and Owen.
We had left our coats at the bar, so we have to go to the security office to get them.
So, we're in Ben's Gremlin and driving to the office. Ben says it's closed and they won't give them to us. I say, "I'm a girl, I'll charm them into giving me the jackets."
So, I get back his jacket (a black leather jacket with fringe), but the office ends up giving me a better coat, a light leather duster. Owen gets a midnight blue tuxedo jacket with shiny lapels and pocket edges.
As we're driving off, I tell them that they have to meet Dave because they'd think he was a funny guy.

Wow. 'Dukes of Hazzard' sucks and the AP's peeved they aren't getting to review it

2005-08-02T20:31:00.000-07:00

Here's a note the Associated Press sent out. Check out the wording:

We will not have a film review of “The Dukes of Hazzard.” To suppress critical coverage, the studio prevented critics from seeing the movie in time for AP to write our review.

The AP

Usually, they just say, "Such-and-such movie was not available to review."

I wonder if this was written by some young editor who rode a "Dukes of Hazzard" Big Wheel down his sloping front yard, carving with his stops a doughnut groove into the area in front of the stone wall at the bottom of the hill, and so feels betrayed by the studio's choice.
Damn, it's gonna be bad.
But it's the casting that confuses me. Not Seann William Scott and Johnny Knoxville, who are funny and seem to have real personalities and you can see how they'd mesh well as Bo and Luke Duke. Willie Nelson has a great personality too, and seems perfectly cast as Uncle Jesse. Plus he's a rebel. And even Burt Reynolds has shown that he has the edge and williness to overplay Boss Hogg.
No, what confuses me is the casting of Jessica Simpson. Sure, she has a personality, but not much of one beyond being her Svengali father's Barbie.
I mean, she playacts at being dumber than she is, but she's not even smart enough to play dumb well.

Euphoria on a Monday morning

2005-08-01T12:09:00.000-07:00

Hearing "White Lines" on the radio on the way to work.