Thursday, September 30, 2004
Random ANTM Judge’s Quote of the Week
You know, you just can’t depend on Janice Dickinson like you used to. I don’t know what it is. Maybe she stopped getting wasted shortly before the judging sessions. Or maybe the Botox has numbed her delicious sense of impropriety along with the muscles in her face. Whatever it is, there’s no doubt that Janice is slipping. Witness last night, when she told Norelle, in reference to a pose in which her arm was between her legs, “It looks like something a man should have between his legs.” What happened to the old Janice Dickinson, the one who would blurt out, “You look like you have a penis!” I miss her. So regretfully, I must give the quote of the episode to someone else.
“The Crystal Gale look is not in fashion right now.” –Nolé, on Jennipher’s excessively long hair
If I were Nolé, I would have followed that sentiment with a quip about the ridiculousness of the spelling of Jennipher’s name. I know it’s not poor Jennipher’s fault that her parents are too stupid to understand that if you want to give someone a unique name, you should probably steer clear of Jennifer altogether. (Apologies to all readers out there who may be named Jennifer, but I trust you didn’t need me to tell you that your name isn’t exactly one-of-a-kind. Also, apologies to anyone else actually named Jennipher because…well, you know.) Still, if I were Jennipher, I’d have made a trip to the courthouse a long time ago to legally change my name to Jennifer. Or something really unique, like…uh, Yaya.
You know, you just can’t depend on Janice Dickinson like you used to. I don’t know what it is. Maybe she stopped getting wasted shortly before the judging sessions. Or maybe the Botox has numbed her delicious sense of impropriety along with the muscles in her face. Whatever it is, there’s no doubt that Janice is slipping. Witness last night, when she told Norelle, in reference to a pose in which her arm was between her legs, “It looks like something a man should have between his legs.” What happened to the old Janice Dickinson, the one who would blurt out, “You look like you have a penis!” I miss her. So regretfully, I must give the quote of the episode to someone else.
“The Crystal Gale look is not in fashion right now.” –Nolé, on Jennipher’s excessively long hair
If I were Nolé, I would have followed that sentiment with a quip about the ridiculousness of the spelling of Jennipher’s name. I know it’s not poor Jennipher’s fault that her parents are too stupid to understand that if you want to give someone a unique name, you should probably steer clear of Jennifer altogether. (Apologies to all readers out there who may be named Jennifer, but I trust you didn’t need me to tell you that your name isn’t exactly one-of-a-kind. Also, apologies to anyone else actually named Jennipher because…well, you know.) Still, if I were Jennipher, I’d have made a trip to the courthouse a long time ago to legally change my name to Jennifer. Or something really unique, like…uh, Yaya.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
Cleaning out my closet
You know you have too many clothes when you’re weeding through your closet in an attempt to find items for a garage sale and you come across a shirt that you don’t even remember buying. As someone who both has a photographic memory and who takes shopping very seriously, this has never actually happened to me before.
The shirt in question was a pale yellow sleeveless sweater from the Gap—pretty nondescript, but nonetheless the type of thing that I would be likely to wear fairly often. Except that, if I couldn’t even remember buying it, I certainly couldn’t remember ever wearing it. But I knew that I must have worn it because the tags were out, and I usually don’t cut the tags out of clothes until I’m ready to wear them.
As I stared at the sweater, it all started coming slowly back to me. Laura and I had been out for margaritas and afterward had decided to stop off at the Gap in my neighborhood, although God knows why because this was around the time when the Gap had nothing but khakis and white button-down shirts in its stores. I blame it on the margaritas. Anyway, we were surprised and pleased to find that this Gap actually had things that we would consider buying. Again, probably as a result of the margaritas, we began exclaiming, “This is the magic Gap!” over and over again. With so many cute items magically appearing before our eyes (and many of them on sale), we made many, many trips to the dressing room. This was not very well-received by the sales associates (particularly coupled with our “Magic Gap!” exclamations), as it was almost closing time. So, partly because I liked it and partly because I took pity on the poor Gap employees, I bought the yellow sweater. I guess I must have worn it to work at least once, since there were no tags in it. How it got lost in my closet, I have no idea, but when it suddenly reappeared yesterday, it was like…well, magic. See? It was a magic Gap!
You know you have too many clothes when you’re weeding through your closet in an attempt to find items for a garage sale and you come across a shirt that you don’t even remember buying. As someone who both has a photographic memory and who takes shopping very seriously, this has never actually happened to me before.
The shirt in question was a pale yellow sleeveless sweater from the Gap—pretty nondescript, but nonetheless the type of thing that I would be likely to wear fairly often. Except that, if I couldn’t even remember buying it, I certainly couldn’t remember ever wearing it. But I knew that I must have worn it because the tags were out, and I usually don’t cut the tags out of clothes until I’m ready to wear them.
As I stared at the sweater, it all started coming slowly back to me. Laura and I had been out for margaritas and afterward had decided to stop off at the Gap in my neighborhood, although God knows why because this was around the time when the Gap had nothing but khakis and white button-down shirts in its stores. I blame it on the margaritas. Anyway, we were surprised and pleased to find that this Gap actually had things that we would consider buying. Again, probably as a result of the margaritas, we began exclaiming, “This is the magic Gap!” over and over again. With so many cute items magically appearing before our eyes (and many of them on sale), we made many, many trips to the dressing room. This was not very well-received by the sales associates (particularly coupled with our “Magic Gap!” exclamations), as it was almost closing time. So, partly because I liked it and partly because I took pity on the poor Gap employees, I bought the yellow sweater. I guess I must have worn it to work at least once, since there were no tags in it. How it got lost in my closet, I have no idea, but when it suddenly reappeared yesterday, it was like…well, magic. See? It was a magic Gap!
Monday, September 27, 2004
Does this mean I’m going to have less fun?
First Nicky Hilton did it. Then Britney Spears. And this weekend, I followed suit.
Before you freak out, I’m not talking about staging an impromptu quickie wedding. I went brunette.
It’s that time of year again when the fact that half of my hair is a different color from the other half really starts to bug me. Since I can only afford to get highlights once a year (and that’s stretching it, really), I typically solve this problem by dyeing it all a different color with one of those cheap, semi-permanent dyes you can buy at Target. Usually, I opt for some shade of red, but after last year’s lackluster results, I decided it was time for a change. So, following in the footsteps of such trendsetters as Brit and Nicky (not to mention Reese Witherspoon, Keira Knightley and the original brunette trendster, Ashlee Simpson), I opted for a shade of brown a few degrees darker than my natural hair color. (Not that I really even know what that is anymore. But I have a vague recollection.)
I have to say, I really like it. In fact, I like it so much that I'm considering making it permanent. Sure, it’s a little bit Andie on Dawson’s Creek around the time that she freaked out and started talking to her dead brother and had to be shipped off to a mental institution. But it’s also a little bit badass Angelina Jolie after she dumped Billy Bob and returned to her natural hair color, forgoing that scary matte-black Elvira look. Personally, I’m trying to concentrate on the latter. Maybe I'll post a picture so you guys can tell me what you think.
First Nicky Hilton did it. Then Britney Spears. And this weekend, I followed suit.
Before you freak out, I’m not talking about staging an impromptu quickie wedding. I went brunette.
It’s that time of year again when the fact that half of my hair is a different color from the other half really starts to bug me. Since I can only afford to get highlights once a year (and that’s stretching it, really), I typically solve this problem by dyeing it all a different color with one of those cheap, semi-permanent dyes you can buy at Target. Usually, I opt for some shade of red, but after last year’s lackluster results, I decided it was time for a change. So, following in the footsteps of such trendsetters as Brit and Nicky (not to mention Reese Witherspoon, Keira Knightley and the original brunette trendster, Ashlee Simpson), I opted for a shade of brown a few degrees darker than my natural hair color. (Not that I really even know what that is anymore. But I have a vague recollection.)
I have to say, I really like it. In fact, I like it so much that I'm considering making it permanent. Sure, it’s a little bit Andie on Dawson’s Creek around the time that she freaked out and started talking to her dead brother and had to be shipped off to a mental institution. But it’s also a little bit badass Angelina Jolie after she dumped Billy Bob and returned to her natural hair color, forgoing that scary matte-black Elvira look. Personally, I’m trying to concentrate on the latter. Maybe I'll post a picture so you guys can tell me what you think.
Thursday, September 23, 2004
The tables are turning so fast that it’s making me dizzy!
Was that really The Bachelor I saw last night? It must have been, as it was a Wednesday night at 8:00, and I was watching ABC. But without the consistency of date and time, I might not have known. The Bachelor really appears to be shaking things up this season, having broadened their definition of “shaking things up” past stupid twists like the first-impression rose and the least-compatible date and whatever the hell twist they came up with during the Meredith season that was so boring I don’t even remember it. Among the renovations:
-A new house. Which kinda looks the same as the old house, really, only it’s a little more breezy and casual, to go along with the new “more breezy and casual” tone of the show.
-A rewritten and revamped Chris Harrison opening monologue. I can only imagine that this was designed to dispel rumors that he’s actually a robot.
-No Most Dramatic! Rose Ceremony! Ever! promos. Yet. But it’s still early.
-No more out-of-the-limo introductions. Thank God, because if I had to hear one more person say, “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” I was going to throw things at the TV.
-Two bachelors. This was the most hyped change, and frankly the one I found least interesting, mostly because it appears to be blatantly ripped off from For Love or Money. Plus, whatever excitement it does generate really doesn’t last past the first episode. It is worth noting, however, that both bachelors were in their 40s, which corresponds with…
-Older women. Twenty-seven seems to be the youngest age for any contestant this season. I can remember a time in the not-so-distant past when a 27-year-old would have been near the top of the age spectrum.
-The propose-or-die clause. In other words, you can’t do the mealy-mouthed Bob Guiney thing—you either propose to the woman you choose, or you walk away alone.
-The addition of the bachelor himself to the ladies’ living quarters. Of all the changes seemingly designed to improve the show’s track record (which is so far, not counting the Bachelorette seasons, 0-5), this one seems the most practical. After all, one of the problems of the show, as I’ve pointed out, is that it doesn’t exactly prepare people for the reality of marriage by sending them on tons uber-romantic fantasy dates. By having the bachelor live in the same house with the women, they’ll be able to take a bit of the fantasy out of the whole thing. That said, they are still living in a house that’s nicer (I assume) than most of them could afford in real life. And they’re being followed around by camera crews. And the fantasy dates are still there. Bottom line: Even with all the big changes, I still don’t believe it’s possible to form a lasting relationship in this medium. But hey, that’s why I’m not on the show.
J. Alexander’s Quote of The Week
You didn’t think I’d forgotten about America’s Next Top Model, did you? In the absence of the oh-so-quotable Janice Dickinson this week, the almost-as-quotable J. Alexander will have to suffice.
“When she took those puppies out, they were full-grown dogs!” –J., on one of the well-endowed plus-size models
Oh, and did anyone else notice how Catie tried to sneak back on the show this season under the not-so-clever disguise of a black streak in her hair and the name Rachael? Thank God they headed her off, but, unfortunately, not before allowing her to have one last on-screen bawl-fest.
Was that really The Bachelor I saw last night? It must have been, as it was a Wednesday night at 8:00, and I was watching ABC. But without the consistency of date and time, I might not have known. The Bachelor really appears to be shaking things up this season, having broadened their definition of “shaking things up” past stupid twists like the first-impression rose and the least-compatible date and whatever the hell twist they came up with during the Meredith season that was so boring I don’t even remember it. Among the renovations:
-A new house. Which kinda looks the same as the old house, really, only it’s a little more breezy and casual, to go along with the new “more breezy and casual” tone of the show.
-A rewritten and revamped Chris Harrison opening monologue. I can only imagine that this was designed to dispel rumors that he’s actually a robot.
-No Most Dramatic! Rose Ceremony! Ever! promos. Yet. But it’s still early.
-No more out-of-the-limo introductions. Thank God, because if I had to hear one more person say, “It’s so nice to finally meet you,” I was going to throw things at the TV.
-Two bachelors. This was the most hyped change, and frankly the one I found least interesting, mostly because it appears to be blatantly ripped off from For Love or Money. Plus, whatever excitement it does generate really doesn’t last past the first episode. It is worth noting, however, that both bachelors were in their 40s, which corresponds with…
-Older women. Twenty-seven seems to be the youngest age for any contestant this season. I can remember a time in the not-so-distant past when a 27-year-old would have been near the top of the age spectrum.
-The propose-or-die clause. In other words, you can’t do the mealy-mouthed Bob Guiney thing—you either propose to the woman you choose, or you walk away alone.
-The addition of the bachelor himself to the ladies’ living quarters. Of all the changes seemingly designed to improve the show’s track record (which is so far, not counting the Bachelorette seasons, 0-5), this one seems the most practical. After all, one of the problems of the show, as I’ve pointed out, is that it doesn’t exactly prepare people for the reality of marriage by sending them on tons uber-romantic fantasy dates. By having the bachelor live in the same house with the women, they’ll be able to take a bit of the fantasy out of the whole thing. That said, they are still living in a house that’s nicer (I assume) than most of them could afford in real life. And they’re being followed around by camera crews. And the fantasy dates are still there. Bottom line: Even with all the big changes, I still don’t believe it’s possible to form a lasting relationship in this medium. But hey, that’s why I’m not on the show.
J. Alexander’s Quote of The Week
You didn’t think I’d forgotten about America’s Next Top Model, did you? In the absence of the oh-so-quotable Janice Dickinson this week, the almost-as-quotable J. Alexander will have to suffice.
“When she took those puppies out, they were full-grown dogs!” –J., on one of the well-endowed plus-size models
Oh, and did anyone else notice how Catie tried to sneak back on the show this season under the not-so-clever disguise of a black streak in her hair and the name Rachael? Thank God they headed her off, but, unfortunately, not before allowing her to have one last on-screen bawl-fest.
Wednesday, September 22, 2004
The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
“There’s such a thing as karma,” says Christie. Oh, yes there is, darling, and now we all know it after watching it come back to bite you on your Texas-emblazoned ass for comments like that and so many other transgressions that are too numerous to mention. Maybe now you’ll think twice before telling cab drivers to mow down innocent pedestrians, hmm?
Although Chip and Kim’s karmic triumph over the evil that is Colin and Christie was no doubt the most amazing thing about last night’s episode, I feel compelled to award second- and third-place “most amazing” awards, in keeping with the finale’s ending. (And besides, there were so many amazing things that it’s hard to mention just one.) So…
The second most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race was Chip saying, “It’s on like Donkey Kong, baby!” I plan to incorporate this phrase into my daily life whenever possible.
The third most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race was a tie between Colin falling off the kayak and Christie wiping out in the airport. Oh, how I love physical comedy. Not to mention karma.
“There’s such a thing as karma,” says Christie. Oh, yes there is, darling, and now we all know it after watching it come back to bite you on your Texas-emblazoned ass for comments like that and so many other transgressions that are too numerous to mention. Maybe now you’ll think twice before telling cab drivers to mow down innocent pedestrians, hmm?
Although Chip and Kim’s karmic triumph over the evil that is Colin and Christie was no doubt the most amazing thing about last night’s episode, I feel compelled to award second- and third-place “most amazing” awards, in keeping with the finale’s ending. (And besides, there were so many amazing things that it’s hard to mention just one.) So…
The second most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race was Chip saying, “It’s on like Donkey Kong, baby!” I plan to incorporate this phrase into my daily life whenever possible.
The third most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race was a tie between Colin falling off the kayak and Christie wiping out in the airport. Oh, how I love physical comedy. Not to mention karma.
Tuesday, September 21, 2004
My soul mate, revised
So remember those other times when I thought I’d found my soul mate? Yeah, scratch that. This time, I really have found him. It’s this guy.
Now, I don’t really know a lot about him (like, for instance, his last name). But I do know that he possesses several of the very important qualities that must be possessed by Clare’s Potential Soul Mate, including, but not limited to:
-A basic grasp of English grammar, spelling and usage (which is not really a soul-mate-specific quality, come to think of it, but rather a quality that I require in pretty much anyone I come in contact with on a semi-regular basis)
-A healthy appreciation for Saved by the Bell (or, at the very least, a healthy appreciation for my Saved by the Bell blog)
-Atlas Shrugged as a favorite book
-Abundant sarcasm
-A love for the medium of television
-A penchant for making sarcastic comments while watching television (not that I know this for a fact, but I can hardly imagine that a sarcastic person would be able to watch television without wanting to make sarcastic comments)
-The desire to marry me
OK, so the last one is not an actual soul-mate qualification, but it doesn’t hurt. And if we’re getting technical here, he doesn’t just want to marry me…he also wants to marry my SBTB blog co-conspirators Bri and Kia as well. But seriously. Do you know how hard it is to find a guy who can appreciate both Saved by the Bell and Ayn Rand? It’s not easy, let me tell you. So if I have to share him with my friends, so be it. I’m sure we’ll all have a blast sitting around in Utah, making sarcastic comments while watching reruns of Saved by the Bell.
So remember those other times when I thought I’d found my soul mate? Yeah, scratch that. This time, I really have found him. It’s this guy.
Now, I don’t really know a lot about him (like, for instance, his last name). But I do know that he possesses several of the very important qualities that must be possessed by Clare’s Potential Soul Mate, including, but not limited to:
-A basic grasp of English grammar, spelling and usage (which is not really a soul-mate-specific quality, come to think of it, but rather a quality that I require in pretty much anyone I come in contact with on a semi-regular basis)
-A healthy appreciation for Saved by the Bell (or, at the very least, a healthy appreciation for my Saved by the Bell blog)
-Atlas Shrugged as a favorite book
-Abundant sarcasm
-A love for the medium of television
-A penchant for making sarcastic comments while watching television (not that I know this for a fact, but I can hardly imagine that a sarcastic person would be able to watch television without wanting to make sarcastic comments)
-The desire to marry me
OK, so the last one is not an actual soul-mate qualification, but it doesn’t hurt. And if we’re getting technical here, he doesn’t just want to marry me…he also wants to marry my SBTB blog co-conspirators Bri and Kia as well. But seriously. Do you know how hard it is to find a guy who can appreciate both Saved by the Bell and Ayn Rand? It’s not easy, let me tell you. So if I have to share him with my friends, so be it. I’m sure we’ll all have a blast sitting around in Utah, making sarcastic comments while watching reruns of Saved by the Bell.
Monday, September 20, 2004
It’s a tumor!
Why is it that, during the years and years that I actually had health insurance, I could cruise along without contracting much more than the common cold, yet, mere days after I decide to discontinue my temporary health insurance (since the health insurance for my new job will kick in next month and I really didn’t have the money to pay the premium), I’m suddenly dying? OK, perhaps dying is a bit dramatic. But I have had a pretty persistent headache for the past 48 hours or so. Yesterday it was at its worst—every 10 seconds or so, I had the not-so-pleasant feeling like someone was driving a nail into my head. Today the feeling has subsided somewhat, and now it just feels like someone’s turning a screw into my head, which is not exactly pleasant either, but at least it just makes me want to cry, rather than cry and scream obscenities.
As my lack of health insurance has prevented me from going to an actual doctor, I’ve tried to diagnose myself, using what limited medical knowledge I’ve managed to pick up from watching ER. Here were some of my guesses:
1. Ear infection. (Based on the fact that the pain originated in my ear. However, I abandoned this diagnosis once the pain moved from inside the ear to the area just above it.)
2. Temporary headache caused by change in pressure due to the hurricane. (This was actually Kristen’s diagnosis, but it’s my favorite because it’s the least scary and most easily fixable without medical intervention.)
3. Brain tumor. (I can be a bit of a hypochondriac, which probably means I shouldn’t be diagnosing myself at home.)
4. TMJ. (This diagnosis was actually not drawn from ER, but rather from the episode of Sex and the City where Miranda had TMJ and had to get braces.)
I decided to corroborate my theories with Internet research this morning, and it seems that I do most likely have TMJ. However, the only symptom I seem to have is the headache—no jaw soreness, no popping sound, etc. But still, it seems to make some sense—on SATC, Miranda had TMJ because she was a tongue thruster, which I was when I was younger; perhaps the habit has returned. On second thought, though, maybe Sex and the City is not the best place to turn with medical problems—after all, if Miranda really were a tongue thruster, she wouldn’t have to wear braces, she would have to wear a “rake,” which is a contraption that has four spikes that sit behind your front teeth to prevent you from pushing your tongue up against them when you swallow. And as far as I know, that only corrects the alignment of your teeth. And anyway, none of the Web sites I found mentioned braces as a remedy for TMJ. So it’s obvious that the braces were only being used as a plot device, which really doesn’t help me a whole lot in this particular situation.
Why is it that, during the years and years that I actually had health insurance, I could cruise along without contracting much more than the common cold, yet, mere days after I decide to discontinue my temporary health insurance (since the health insurance for my new job will kick in next month and I really didn’t have the money to pay the premium), I’m suddenly dying? OK, perhaps dying is a bit dramatic. But I have had a pretty persistent headache for the past 48 hours or so. Yesterday it was at its worst—every 10 seconds or so, I had the not-so-pleasant feeling like someone was driving a nail into my head. Today the feeling has subsided somewhat, and now it just feels like someone’s turning a screw into my head, which is not exactly pleasant either, but at least it just makes me want to cry, rather than cry and scream obscenities.
As my lack of health insurance has prevented me from going to an actual doctor, I’ve tried to diagnose myself, using what limited medical knowledge I’ve managed to pick up from watching ER. Here were some of my guesses:
1. Ear infection. (Based on the fact that the pain originated in my ear. However, I abandoned this diagnosis once the pain moved from inside the ear to the area just above it.)
2. Temporary headache caused by change in pressure due to the hurricane. (This was actually Kristen’s diagnosis, but it’s my favorite because it’s the least scary and most easily fixable without medical intervention.)
3. Brain tumor. (I can be a bit of a hypochondriac, which probably means I shouldn’t be diagnosing myself at home.)
4. TMJ. (This diagnosis was actually not drawn from ER, but rather from the episode of Sex and the City where Miranda had TMJ and had to get braces.)
I decided to corroborate my theories with Internet research this morning, and it seems that I do most likely have TMJ. However, the only symptom I seem to have is the headache—no jaw soreness, no popping sound, etc. But still, it seems to make some sense—on SATC, Miranda had TMJ because she was a tongue thruster, which I was when I was younger; perhaps the habit has returned. On second thought, though, maybe Sex and the City is not the best place to turn with medical problems—after all, if Miranda really were a tongue thruster, she wouldn’t have to wear braces, she would have to wear a “rake,” which is a contraption that has four spikes that sit behind your front teeth to prevent you from pushing your tongue up against them when you swallow. And as far as I know, that only corrects the alignment of your teeth. And anyway, none of the Web sites I found mentioned braces as a remedy for TMJ. So it’s obvious that the braces were only being used as a plot device, which really doesn’t help me a whole lot in this particular situation.
Friday, September 17, 2004
I will survive
Well, I made it through my first hurricane. Actually, by the time it reached us yesterday, it had been downgraded to a “tropical storm,” and it didn’t seem that much worse than some of the other bad storms we’ve had in recent months. It certainly wasn’t as apocalyptic (at least not for me) as the media would have you believe. One of my windows was leaking, which was annoying, and my power was out, which was super-annoying, as I had hoped to use my day off to watch some of the movies I checked out from the library last weekend. Instead, I spent the day knitting and listening to NPR/classical music (apparently, the loss of power is enough to turn me into an 80-year-old woman) and eating chips with E-Z cheese (my hurricane food of choice). Incidentally, when I was at the store Wednesday night stocking up on non-perishable food, I was surprised to find that the E-Z cheese display was still almost completely full. How else do people think they’re going to get calcium during natural disasters?! (And before you say that E-Z cheese is not real cheese, let me assure you that it is—I checked. And it even says on the can that it’s a good source of calcium. So there.) Now that the hurricane/tropical storm is over, my power is back on, the window has stopped leaking, and I had to go back to work. But I still have some E-Z cheese left!
Well, I made it through my first hurricane. Actually, by the time it reached us yesterday, it had been downgraded to a “tropical storm,” and it didn’t seem that much worse than some of the other bad storms we’ve had in recent months. It certainly wasn’t as apocalyptic (at least not for me) as the media would have you believe. One of my windows was leaking, which was annoying, and my power was out, which was super-annoying, as I had hoped to use my day off to watch some of the movies I checked out from the library last weekend. Instead, I spent the day knitting and listening to NPR/classical music (apparently, the loss of power is enough to turn me into an 80-year-old woman) and eating chips with E-Z cheese (my hurricane food of choice). Incidentally, when I was at the store Wednesday night stocking up on non-perishable food, I was surprised to find that the E-Z cheese display was still almost completely full. How else do people think they’re going to get calcium during natural disasters?! (And before you say that E-Z cheese is not real cheese, let me assure you that it is—I checked. And it even says on the can that it’s a good source of calcium. So there.) Now that the hurricane/tropical storm is over, my power is back on, the window has stopped leaking, and I had to go back to work. But I still have some E-Z cheese left!
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
The most amazing thing I didn’t see last night on The Amazing Race
That would be Colin and Christie getting eliminated, like they rightly should have been. What’s up with the show bucking tradition and making the last episode before the finale non-elimination, thereby sending four teams to the finale instead of three? I was so prepared for that sweet release (the likes of which haven’t been seen since Alison and Donny were eliminated), and it never came. In fact, when Phil started in with, “I’m pleased to tell you…” I actually screamed, “Noooooo!” at my television. (I do that a lot, though, so it’s really not that odd. But I was pissed.)
I really shouldn’t have been, though, because Colin and Christie did provide us this week with several of the most amazing things that actually happened on last night’s Amazing Race. I can’t decide if my favorite moment was when Colin cried with despair, “My ox is broken!” or when a desperate Christie instructed her cab driver to just run the pedestrians over, adding, “They’re not important!” I think it’s the former, because the latter is just frightening. (I know these two are all about flouting the law and everything, but there’s a big difference between failing to pay a cab driver and mowing down a bunch of pedestrians. Man, I hope The Amazing Race never comes through town when I’m out for a walk.)
The apocalypse is upon us
Or at least you’d think it was, based on the degree to which people are freaking out about the impending arrival of Hurricane Ivan. My office has already cancelled work for tomorrow, and they’re letting us off early this afternoon so we can go to the store and buy the necessary provisions (providing that there’s actually something left on the grocery store shelves at this point). It’s times like these that I feel that Dave’s SPAM cookbook might come in handy.
That would be Colin and Christie getting eliminated, like they rightly should have been. What’s up with the show bucking tradition and making the last episode before the finale non-elimination, thereby sending four teams to the finale instead of three? I was so prepared for that sweet release (the likes of which haven’t been seen since Alison and Donny were eliminated), and it never came. In fact, when Phil started in with, “I’m pleased to tell you…” I actually screamed, “Noooooo!” at my television. (I do that a lot, though, so it’s really not that odd. But I was pissed.)
I really shouldn’t have been, though, because Colin and Christie did provide us this week with several of the most amazing things that actually happened on last night’s Amazing Race. I can’t decide if my favorite moment was when Colin cried with despair, “My ox is broken!” or when a desperate Christie instructed her cab driver to just run the pedestrians over, adding, “They’re not important!” I think it’s the former, because the latter is just frightening. (I know these two are all about flouting the law and everything, but there’s a big difference between failing to pay a cab driver and mowing down a bunch of pedestrians. Man, I hope The Amazing Race never comes through town when I’m out for a walk.)
The apocalypse is upon us
Or at least you’d think it was, based on the degree to which people are freaking out about the impending arrival of Hurricane Ivan. My office has already cancelled work for tomorrow, and they’re letting us off early this afternoon so we can go to the store and buy the necessary provisions (providing that there’s actually something left on the grocery store shelves at this point). It’s times like these that I feel that Dave’s SPAM cookbook might come in handy.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
If you give Bono a cookie
Last night, I had a dream that I was hanging out with Bono at the house I grew up in. That's so cool, you may be thinking. (Or you may not be, depending on your own personal opinions of Bono.) But let me assure you, it was anything but. That's because Bono was behaving as if he were a character in one of those "If You Give a [Name of Animal] a [Name of Foodstuff]" books ("If You Give a Mouse a Cookie," "If You Give a Moose a Muffin," etc.). He was incredibly petulant, and everytime I would find something to entertain him, he would become bored with it in a matter of seconds and move on to some sort of destructive activity. He happened to be sick, which could account for his foul and disruptive mood, so I was trying to take him to the hospital. Before we left, however, he insisted that I call his wife on his cell phone and tell her what was going on. But I couldn't seem to find her name in the huge directory on his phone (which also included my name--I guess we were good buds or something). While I was looking for it, he decided he was hot, so he began filling up a baby pool in the backyard. Then he decided that the baby pool wouldn't be enough to cool him off and made me drag a huge fan out to the backyard. While I was occupied with that task, he stole off to the storage shed, where he found a chainsaw and promptly began cutting down all the trees in our yard. He was still doing that when my dad arrived home. Fortunately, my dad was able to talk some sense into him before he completely obliterated our yard of trees. Then I woke up.
I have tried to consult an online dream dictionary to decipher what this might mean, but, unsurprisingly, they have no entry for Bono.
Last night, I had a dream that I was hanging out with Bono at the house I grew up in. That's so cool, you may be thinking. (Or you may not be, depending on your own personal opinions of Bono.) But let me assure you, it was anything but. That's because Bono was behaving as if he were a character in one of those "If You Give a [Name of Animal] a [Name of Foodstuff]" books ("If You Give a Mouse a Cookie," "If You Give a Moose a Muffin," etc.). He was incredibly petulant, and everytime I would find something to entertain him, he would become bored with it in a matter of seconds and move on to some sort of destructive activity. He happened to be sick, which could account for his foul and disruptive mood, so I was trying to take him to the hospital. Before we left, however, he insisted that I call his wife on his cell phone and tell her what was going on. But I couldn't seem to find her name in the huge directory on his phone (which also included my name--I guess we were good buds or something). While I was looking for it, he decided he was hot, so he began filling up a baby pool in the backyard. Then he decided that the baby pool wouldn't be enough to cool him off and made me drag a huge fan out to the backyard. While I was occupied with that task, he stole off to the storage shed, where he found a chainsaw and promptly began cutting down all the trees in our yard. He was still doing that when my dad arrived home. Fortunately, my dad was able to talk some sense into him before he completely obliterated our yard of trees. Then I woke up.
I have tried to consult an online dream dictionary to decipher what this might mean, but, unsurprisingly, they have no entry for Bono.
Monday, September 13, 2004
Life is so unfair
The cutest boy at my new office has a desk that is covered with pro-Bush paraphernalia. Isn't that just the way it always goes?
The cutest boy at my new office has a desk that is covered with pro-Bush paraphernalia. Isn't that just the way it always goes?
Saturday, September 11, 2004
End-of-summer wrap-up
So some of you are probably wondering where I’ve been. I know this because I’ve gotten e-mails from you, asking where I’ve been. The short version of the story goes something like this: home, Cleveland, home, sleeping. The long version of the story goes like this…
I suppose I should go in chronological order so that you can follow along with the short version, but screw that. I’m going in order of excitement. And the most exciting thing of all is that I finally have a job again. For a while there, I actually had two jobs. Or two job offers, at least. One was from the place with my old office furniture, and one was from the company that employs Justin in Kansas City. I spent the first part of this week going over the pros and cons of each job (and writing said pros and cons down on a Southwest cocktail napkin), and finally decided to go with the job here. Partly because I thought it would be more fun and challenging, partly because I really, really hate moving (although I do really like living in new places, which is hard to do without moving), and partly because I hoped I might find my digital recorder in one of the desks. Anyway, I start my new job on Monday. I’ve noticed a disturbing trend among some of my fellow bloggers (Lyndsay, the Tyrant), which is that the quality of their blogging is inversely proportionate to the quality of their job. A new, better job means a decline in the frequency of blogging—or worse, in the case of Lyndsay, the end of blogging altogether. I hope this won’t happen to me.
The next most exciting thing was my weekend in Cleveland with Diana, Nikki and Kristen. We had a fabulous time setting up impromptu beauty salons, trying to help out Huey Lewis in the propagation of his catch phrase, playing detective in Kristen’s freezer, learning that Rodin is not in fact from Cleveland, forcing Kristen’s husband to participate in girly bonding, pretending to be roadkill, playing games of “I’ve never” and discovering that we’ve all become far less interesting since college, and watching Diana try to go down the up escalator (or, in my case, hearing about Diana trying to go down the up escalator). Eventually, I’ll have pictures up on the site that will explain some of that.
On my last night in Cleveland, Kristen and I went to see Garden State, which we both loved. That night, unable to sleep, I blogged about my thoughts on the movie. However, I didn’t publish it at the time (because I couldn’t get it in the correct font), so I just thought I’d wait and publish when I blogged again. Of course, now it seems really strange to suddenly publish a post from Tuesday, so I’m just pasting it here:
After reading (mostly) glowing endorsements of Garden State from Rachel and the Tyrant, I went into the movie with pretty high expectations, which is almost never a good thing. But I'm happy to report that my expectations were definitely met and possibly exceeded. I loved it, and I think what I loved the most was how real the characters felt. Specifically, Natalie Portman's character reminded me of myself more than any other fictional character ever has. And I don't mean that I identified with her or that I wanted to be like her...I mean, it was literally like watching myself on the big screen. (And very close up, I might add, as Kristen and I arrived late and had to sit in the front row.) Part of it was her penchant for starting a new sentence when she was already in the middle of one. Part of it was the fact that the step she used to demonstrate her tap-dancing ability was the same one I use to demonstrate my tap-dancing ability. And while I'm definitely not what you'd call a liar (I'm really bad at it, actually), I do sometimes like to tell people (mostly my sister) really outlandish things just to see if they'll believe them...and I end up confessing right away, partly because I feel bad, but mostly because I'm unable to keep a straight face. But the thing that struck me the most was something most other people probably didn't even notice about the character, which is the way she constantly played with the ponytail holder around her wrist. In fact, at one point during the movie, I noticed her playing with it and looked down to discover that I was doing the exact same thing. Throw in a little more sarcasm and take away the hoodie as a wardrobe staple (I prefer jean jackets), and the character would pretty much be me. It kind of makes me wonder if Zach Braff and I knew each other in a previous life or something. I wouldn't mind that, actually. He looks like he gives good hugs.
Finally, in the midst of all this excitement, I haven't forgotten about the most amazing thing I saw on The Amazing Race. This week, it comes in the form of a quote from Brandon:
"Inflate a zorb?! Aw, baby, I hate doing that!"
Kind of makes you wonder how many zorbs Brandon inflates in his day-to-day existence. As we near the finale, I wasn't all that surprised or upset to see the Twinkies bite the dust. Now, if only we could get rid of Collin and Christie (or at least Collin), we could have, for the first time in history, a finale entirely composed of teams I like. (Or at least teams I don't hate. The moms' constant squealing is starting to grate, but they're mostly harmless.) Unfortunately, barring another breach of international law, I don't see this happening. Collin may be a complete asshole, but that doesn't mean he's not a smart and efficient racer. I guess it's too much to ask that, for once, those traits be mutually exclusive.
So some of you are probably wondering where I’ve been. I know this because I’ve gotten e-mails from you, asking where I’ve been. The short version of the story goes something like this: home, Cleveland, home, sleeping. The long version of the story goes like this…
I suppose I should go in chronological order so that you can follow along with the short version, but screw that. I’m going in order of excitement. And the most exciting thing of all is that I finally have a job again. For a while there, I actually had two jobs. Or two job offers, at least. One was from the place with my old office furniture, and one was from the company that employs Justin in Kansas City. I spent the first part of this week going over the pros and cons of each job (and writing said pros and cons down on a Southwest cocktail napkin), and finally decided to go with the job here. Partly because I thought it would be more fun and challenging, partly because I really, really hate moving (although I do really like living in new places, which is hard to do without moving), and partly because I hoped I might find my digital recorder in one of the desks. Anyway, I start my new job on Monday. I’ve noticed a disturbing trend among some of my fellow bloggers (Lyndsay, the Tyrant), which is that the quality of their blogging is inversely proportionate to the quality of their job. A new, better job means a decline in the frequency of blogging—or worse, in the case of Lyndsay, the end of blogging altogether. I hope this won’t happen to me.
The next most exciting thing was my weekend in Cleveland with Diana, Nikki and Kristen. We had a fabulous time setting up impromptu beauty salons, trying to help out Huey Lewis in the propagation of his catch phrase, playing detective in Kristen’s freezer, learning that Rodin is not in fact from Cleveland, forcing Kristen’s husband to participate in girly bonding, pretending to be roadkill, playing games of “I’ve never” and discovering that we’ve all become far less interesting since college, and watching Diana try to go down the up escalator (or, in my case, hearing about Diana trying to go down the up escalator). Eventually, I’ll have pictures up on the site that will explain some of that.
On my last night in Cleveland, Kristen and I went to see Garden State, which we both loved. That night, unable to sleep, I blogged about my thoughts on the movie. However, I didn’t publish it at the time (because I couldn’t get it in the correct font), so I just thought I’d wait and publish when I blogged again. Of course, now it seems really strange to suddenly publish a post from Tuesday, so I’m just pasting it here:
After reading (mostly) glowing endorsements of Garden State from Rachel and the Tyrant, I went into the movie with pretty high expectations, which is almost never a good thing. But I'm happy to report that my expectations were definitely met and possibly exceeded. I loved it, and I think what I loved the most was how real the characters felt. Specifically, Natalie Portman's character reminded me of myself more than any other fictional character ever has. And I don't mean that I identified with her or that I wanted to be like her...I mean, it was literally like watching myself on the big screen. (And very close up, I might add, as Kristen and I arrived late and had to sit in the front row.) Part of it was her penchant for starting a new sentence when she was already in the middle of one. Part of it was the fact that the step she used to demonstrate her tap-dancing ability was the same one I use to demonstrate my tap-dancing ability. And while I'm definitely not what you'd call a liar (I'm really bad at it, actually), I do sometimes like to tell people (mostly my sister) really outlandish things just to see if they'll believe them...and I end up confessing right away, partly because I feel bad, but mostly because I'm unable to keep a straight face. But the thing that struck me the most was something most other people probably didn't even notice about the character, which is the way she constantly played with the ponytail holder around her wrist. In fact, at one point during the movie, I noticed her playing with it and looked down to discover that I was doing the exact same thing. Throw in a little more sarcasm and take away the hoodie as a wardrobe staple (I prefer jean jackets), and the character would pretty much be me. It kind of makes me wonder if Zach Braff and I knew each other in a previous life or something. I wouldn't mind that, actually. He looks like he gives good hugs.
Finally, in the midst of all this excitement, I haven't forgotten about the most amazing thing I saw on The Amazing Race. This week, it comes in the form of a quote from Brandon:
"Inflate a zorb?! Aw, baby, I hate doing that!"
Kind of makes you wonder how many zorbs Brandon inflates in his day-to-day existence. As we near the finale, I wasn't all that surprised or upset to see the Twinkies bite the dust. Now, if only we could get rid of Collin and Christie (or at least Collin), we could have, for the first time in history, a finale entirely composed of teams I like. (Or at least teams I don't hate. The moms' constant squealing is starting to grate, but they're mostly harmless.) Unfortunately, barring another breach of international law, I don't see this happening. Collin may be a complete asshole, but that doesn't mean he's not a smart and efficient racer. I guess it's too much to ask that, for once, those traits be mutually exclusive.
Thursday, September 02, 2004
So frustrating
My bank and I are currently in a disagreement as to how much money should be in my checking account. Unfortunately, said disagreement is not in my favor--I think there should be $25 more in my account than the bank does. Last night, I went over the past two months' bank statements and still could not account for the missing money. I find it highly suspect that the amount missing is the exact amount that my bank charges for an overdraft fee, yet, to my knowledge, my account has not been overdrawn recently. As frustrating as this situation would be under normal circumstances, it's even more so to a person who: a) is not good with math, and b) is so broke that the sudden disappearance of $25 is a huge freaking deal.
My bank and I are currently in a disagreement as to how much money should be in my checking account. Unfortunately, said disagreement is not in my favor--I think there should be $25 more in my account than the bank does. Last night, I went over the past two months' bank statements and still could not account for the missing money. I find it highly suspect that the amount missing is the exact amount that my bank charges for an overdraft fee, yet, to my knowledge, my account has not been overdrawn recently. As frustrating as this situation would be under normal circumstances, it's even more so to a person who: a) is not good with math, and b) is so broke that the sudden disappearance of $25 is a huge freaking deal.
Wednesday, September 01, 2004
Signs of the times
On Monday I had a job interview in Kansas City (at Justin's place of employment, incidentally), which means I have spent much of the past few days driving on my very favorite interstate, I-70. Actually, it wasn't as bad as I remembered it, which either means that MoDOT finally got its act together or that the roads in Alabama are just that much worse in comparison.
One thing that hasn't changed along I-70 is the proliferation of strange and amusing billboards. After all, this is the same road that gave us such classic billboards as "Abortion Kills Babies," "Ho-Made Pies" and "Monks? Yes!" Here are some of the new billboards destined for the hall of fame:
Billboard #1 featured a picture of a sonogram accompanied by the slogan, "Woman, behold your child!" Other than a vague-sounding Web address written in relatively small letters across the bottom of the billboard, there was nothing else on it that offered any clues as to what it might be advertising. So I came up with the following guesses:
a) anti-abortion sentiments
b) a hospital
c) Jesus (albeit in a very strange way)
After conferring with Doug and Holly later that evening, I learned that my first guess was correct. I wasn't all that surprised, considering the disproportionately high number of anti-abortion billboards lining both sides of I-70. Which makes me wonder, are there really that many knocked-up women driving back and forth across the state of Missouri every day?
Billboard #2 was a black-and-white picture of a hand holding a candle, accompanied by the text, "Drink and drive? You will be missed." You're probably thinking that this doesn't sound too odd. Just your average PSA, right? Wrong. This was an ad for a funeral home. The implicit message being, of course, "If you drink and drive, you'll die...and we'll certainly appreciate your business! Bottoms up!"
In the runner-up category (because they weren't technically on I-70) are the new construction-zone safety signs in Illionis, which read, "Hit a Worker, $10,000 Fine, 14 Yrs Jail." Now, I realize that they didn't have a lot of room on the sign for words like "if." But it's such a small word, and it's kind of important here. Otherwise, it's pretty much an invitation to take out a construction worker. Plus, what if you're speeding past and all you see is "Hit a Worker, $10,000"? You might think that not only does the state of Illinois want you to get rid of some of its highway laborers, but they're also going to pay you a pretty good sum to do it. I shouldn't complain, though. It's a vast improvement over the "Abby's daddy/Bobby's mommy" series. (You know the ones. "Please slow down. My daddy works here. --Abby") When I saw those signs, I was always tempted to stop at the site and yell, "OK, which one of you is Abby's daddy?" Of course, it would have been my luck that one of the guys really would've had a kid named Abby.
The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
Stupid Republicans (not you, Kate) and their stupid convention, pushing back The Amazing Race by an hour. Actually, it was stupid CBS's fault that I missed most of last night's episode. Why can't they be like other networks and, when changing the time of a show, run about a million promos that all mention the time change very loudly several times throughout the spot? But no, they simply stick the new time down in the corner of the screen on a regular promo and just expect you to notice it. Well, I did notice it. The problem was, it didn't really make that much of an impression, so I didn't remember that the time had changed until the episode was nearly over. I tuned in just in time to see Brandon and Nicole flee from the head-shaving Fast Forward and to hear Brandon's rationalization for doing so: "I wouldn't mind shaving my head--it'll grow back--but I wouldn't let Nikki cut off her beautiful hair." Because her hair won't grow back? I'm not sure I understand the logic here. Also, Nicole's justification that they couldn't do it because they're models is just lame. Did she learn nothing from Sinead O'Connor and Demi Moore? Head-shaving generates publicity, which is generally a good thing for people in the public eye. However, had they done it and found out later that the leg was non-elimination, it would have really sucked. So in this case, I think their decision worked out in their favor.
On Monday I had a job interview in Kansas City (at Justin's place of employment, incidentally), which means I have spent much of the past few days driving on my very favorite interstate, I-70. Actually, it wasn't as bad as I remembered it, which either means that MoDOT finally got its act together or that the roads in Alabama are just that much worse in comparison.
One thing that hasn't changed along I-70 is the proliferation of strange and amusing billboards. After all, this is the same road that gave us such classic billboards as "Abortion Kills Babies," "Ho-Made Pies" and "Monks? Yes!" Here are some of the new billboards destined for the hall of fame:
Billboard #1 featured a picture of a sonogram accompanied by the slogan, "Woman, behold your child!" Other than a vague-sounding Web address written in relatively small letters across the bottom of the billboard, there was nothing else on it that offered any clues as to what it might be advertising. So I came up with the following guesses:
a) anti-abortion sentiments
b) a hospital
c) Jesus (albeit in a very strange way)
After conferring with Doug and Holly later that evening, I learned that my first guess was correct. I wasn't all that surprised, considering the disproportionately high number of anti-abortion billboards lining both sides of I-70. Which makes me wonder, are there really that many knocked-up women driving back and forth across the state of Missouri every day?
Billboard #2 was a black-and-white picture of a hand holding a candle, accompanied by the text, "Drink and drive? You will be missed." You're probably thinking that this doesn't sound too odd. Just your average PSA, right? Wrong. This was an ad for a funeral home. The implicit message being, of course, "If you drink and drive, you'll die...and we'll certainly appreciate your business! Bottoms up!"
In the runner-up category (because they weren't technically on I-70) are the new construction-zone safety signs in Illionis, which read, "Hit a Worker, $10,000 Fine, 14 Yrs Jail." Now, I realize that they didn't have a lot of room on the sign for words like "if." But it's such a small word, and it's kind of important here. Otherwise, it's pretty much an invitation to take out a construction worker. Plus, what if you're speeding past and all you see is "Hit a Worker, $10,000"? You might think that not only does the state of Illinois want you to get rid of some of its highway laborers, but they're also going to pay you a pretty good sum to do it. I shouldn't complain, though. It's a vast improvement over the "Abby's daddy/Bobby's mommy" series. (You know the ones. "Please slow down. My daddy works here. --Abby") When I saw those signs, I was always tempted to stop at the site and yell, "OK, which one of you is Abby's daddy?" Of course, it would have been my luck that one of the guys really would've had a kid named Abby.
The most amazing thing I saw last night on The Amazing Race
Stupid Republicans (not you, Kate) and their stupid convention, pushing back The Amazing Race by an hour. Actually, it was stupid CBS's fault that I missed most of last night's episode. Why can't they be like other networks and, when changing the time of a show, run about a million promos that all mention the time change very loudly several times throughout the spot? But no, they simply stick the new time down in the corner of the screen on a regular promo and just expect you to notice it. Well, I did notice it. The problem was, it didn't really make that much of an impression, so I didn't remember that the time had changed until the episode was nearly over. I tuned in just in time to see Brandon and Nicole flee from the head-shaving Fast Forward and to hear Brandon's rationalization for doing so: "I wouldn't mind shaving my head--it'll grow back--but I wouldn't let Nikki cut off her beautiful hair." Because her hair won't grow back? I'm not sure I understand the logic here. Also, Nicole's justification that they couldn't do it because they're models is just lame. Did she learn nothing from Sinead O'Connor and Demi Moore? Head-shaving generates publicity, which is generally a good thing for people in the public eye. However, had they done it and found out later that the leg was non-elimination, it would have really sucked. So in this case, I think their decision worked out in their favor.
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