Showing posts from September, 2009
LIFE'S NOT FAIR Everyone who knows me knows that I basically watch nothing but The Food Network. What can I say? It may seem quite limited, but with my hectic life, I'd prefer to learn how to make some awesome food rather than get depressed with the shit thats all over the news. So, on Saturday night I was curled up on the couch watching Diners Drive-Ins and Dives when host Guy Fieri enthusiastically embraces a tacoria and 5 girls who used to torment me in Jr High School. Dang! Way to harsh my mellow! I hadn't thought about Vickie Ochoa since I left Bill Reed! There she was, smug as ever and being referred to as "chef" no less. Ugh! I could still see her coming down the hall where my lockers were and saying something really nasty about me as she passed. Guy was asking her about her family recipes and I remembered her walking up to the owner of a store called The Cat's Pajamas and loudly telling him that he should call he police because "I just saw tha
NICE OUTFIT AND MORE I work with a woman who dresses up every day. We're a pretty casual office, so she stood out right away with her spiked heels and Mrs Wiggins tight skirts (if you've ever watched The Carol Burnett Show you'll recall the hobble skirt that she wore which caused her to pitch her butt way back in order to try to walk) and fancy blouses. But as the months have worn on, it has become glaringly obvious that she has a dress up disorder. If that isn't in the PDR (Physician's Desk Reference) as an official disorder, then I think Cheryl is a new malady that has never appeared before. To be clear, I do mean "dress up" as in "Hey, let's raid mom's closet and play dress up! You be a rock star and I'll be a rich lady!" She evolved from spiked heels and hobble skirts into wild dresses that at times only needed Carmen Miranda's banana basket hat to complete the ensemble. Yes, she already had the massive platform shoes and a
LIKE A MINT? That can be an awkward question. Every time I enjoy a piece of gum or a mint I think of my 2nd grade teacher Miss Poleman who used to ask us, "Do you have enough to share with the whole class?" I guess she was trying to inspire sharing and help us to avoid a greedy Veruca Salt sort of existence. OK, so it is ingrained in my personal 2nd grade psyche that I shouldn't be opening my purse in a meeting and snatching some gum and unwrapping it and popping it in my mouth and chomping on it* without sharing. Also it should be known that years ago I was in a social group of friends that included a very nice young lady named Kim. But the group called her "Halli". Until I met her I actually thought that was her name. When we met, she held out her hand to introduce herself and I said, "Hi Kim". A friend swooped in and giggled, "Halli, would you like an Altoid?" Kim sweetly declined. I asked Kim why they called her Halli and as she mov
USELESS SPIDERS! OK, anyone who knows me knows about my show down with a very large arachnid that scarred me for life. So now, if I encounter one, I tend to... oh, how shall I term it? 'freak out' is a good descriptor I'd say. Well, after recently making the back yard a lovely So Cal living space, I'd rather be outside lounging on the sofa under one of the umbrellas than being inside. Now, let's back up 4 weeks ago. Me: (lounging while reading in back yard) Hudson: (from behind the fence on the driveway) Ivy? Me: Ummm Yes? Hudson: What does a black widow look like? Me: (clutching my paperback to my chest) What?!? Everyone knows what a black widow looks like! Hudson: I can't be certain I've ever seen one. Me: Well, the females are the deadly spiders and they're a really elegant looking body and legs and very black and on their underside they have a distinct red hourglass mark. You know, they look like they can kill you. Hudson:
DON'T SCREAM AT ME! I've never liked screaming. I'm not sure who does, but then again I don't know why some bands have the popularity they do. And I've been quite disconcerted recently getting into the car to drive to or from work and just about any radio station I select will have a song on their play-list that is screaming. People, let's be crystal clear here. No. Screaming does NOT show talent, vocal range, or even emotion. Do you hear me Avril Lavigne? You start all wistful like and sweet, and then you just start fucking screaming. Give me a break. For that matter, even Tori Amos does it. I'd site the male singers that do it, but I care so little about them I have no idea what their names are. Stop screaming OK*? Even the hard of hearing don't like to be screamed at while they're trying to groove to some music. It's on par with the old 70s and 80s genre of advertising by hollering - a la Crazy Gidian and Crazy Larry. MY PRICES ARE LOWEST!!
KETCHUP AND CATSUP This is my 551st blog post. Not that it's anything to write home about (ha!) just tossing that out there. My I DO go on don't I? Hmmm so what's new? Well, I haven't overheard any more possible body disposal kvetching. Which made me laugh a really dark little laugh, I just pictured Henny Youngman doing a bit up in the Catskills circa 1962 Henny : You think you've got it bad? You should see my wife! Audience: (laughing) Henny: And you may not like your job, but it can't be as bad as my day job! Audience: (laughing) Henny: I'm telling you that being in the body disposal business is no walk in the park! I had to replace the blade in my hack-saw 3 times and that was just last night! Audience: (silence) Henny: Is this thing on? Sorry - I have no excuse for that really revolting lack of taste or even decorum. Let's just keep moving shall we? This weekend I got to discover James K Hahn state park and of course it was against my wi