Tuesday, March 30, 2004
And so it begins...
OK, I didn't want to have to do this. For much of this season of American Idol, the famed Blog Alliance has been pretty dormant, at least on my side of things. Why? Well, there were so many inferior contestants in the Top 12 this year that I simply didn't know where to start. I figured I'd just sit back and let Darwinism play itself out before my very eyes.
So far, this has worked out well. The first week we got rid of the horrible Leah LaBelle, whom no one really liked in the first place. Last week, we were spared the vocal "stylings" of Matt Rogers, whom some people liked and some people didn't. I was in the latter category, so I was happy to see him go. However, there was one person that I felt should have been eliminated before Matt, but this person was spared at the last minute. It is for this reason that I have no choice but to do what I am about to do.
Camile Velasco, you have been targeted by The Alliance. We are tired of you constantly looking as if you're in some sort of intolerable pain. Your facial expressions make us long for the Josh Gracin constipation faces of yore! We are tired of you pretending like you can sing. You can't! You never could! We have no idea why you were even chosen for this competition in the first place (and over Chase, at that!), nor why you have been allowed to continue this far. We also have no idea why Paula thinks you sound like Lauryn Hill, other than the fact that she is obviously on drugs.
Camile Velasco, you are this year's Julia DeMato, albeit with slightly better fashion sense. And we have no choice but to eliminate you from the competition before you become this year's Carmen Rasmusen.
The Alliance has spoken. Thank you.
OK, I didn't want to have to do this. For much of this season of American Idol, the famed Blog Alliance has been pretty dormant, at least on my side of things. Why? Well, there were so many inferior contestants in the Top 12 this year that I simply didn't know where to start. I figured I'd just sit back and let Darwinism play itself out before my very eyes.
So far, this has worked out well. The first week we got rid of the horrible Leah LaBelle, whom no one really liked in the first place. Last week, we were spared the vocal "stylings" of Matt Rogers, whom some people liked and some people didn't. I was in the latter category, so I was happy to see him go. However, there was one person that I felt should have been eliminated before Matt, but this person was spared at the last minute. It is for this reason that I have no choice but to do what I am about to do.
Camile Velasco, you have been targeted by The Alliance. We are tired of you constantly looking as if you're in some sort of intolerable pain. Your facial expressions make us long for the Josh Gracin constipation faces of yore! We are tired of you pretending like you can sing. You can't! You never could! We have no idea why you were even chosen for this competition in the first place (and over Chase, at that!), nor why you have been allowed to continue this far. We also have no idea why Paula thinks you sound like Lauryn Hill, other than the fact that she is obviously on drugs.
Camile Velasco, you are this year's Julia DeMato, albeit with slightly better fashion sense. And we have no choice but to eliminate you from the competition before you become this year's Carmen Rasmusen.
The Alliance has spoken. Thank you.
Monday, March 29, 2004
And this
I have this theory that today's date is the most popular one for birthdays, i.e. that more people were born on March 29 than on any other day of the year. This theory is based on the highly scientific fact that I personally know four (four!) people with birthdays on March 29. Not wanting to just be another face in the crowd, I chose to wait a couple of days and be born on March 31.
Although come to think of it, I know at least four other people who have birthdays on March 31. Damn! Let's just rearrange the theory and say that this entire week is a very popular week for birthdays. Either that, or I just naturally tend to gravitate toward people who either have, or know someone who has, a birthday very near mine.
According to this, it must be the latter.
I have this theory that today's date is the most popular one for birthdays, i.e. that more people were born on March 29 than on any other day of the year. This theory is based on the highly scientific fact that I personally know four (four!) people with birthdays on March 29. Not wanting to just be another face in the crowd, I chose to wait a couple of days and be born on March 31.
Although come to think of it, I know at least four other people who have birthdays on March 31. Damn! Let's just rearrange the theory and say that this entire week is a very popular week for birthdays. Either that, or I just naturally tend to gravitate toward people who either have, or know someone who has, a birthday very near mine.
According to this, it must be the latter.
File this under "crazy," too
Apparently the Chick-Fil-A by my office is so busy during lunch time, they now put a manager in the parking lot in an orange vest to direct traffic. Must be all those yummy butter-and-pickles sandwiches!
Apparently the Chick-Fil-A by my office is so busy during lunch time, they now put a manager in the parking lot in an orange vest to direct traffic. Must be all those yummy butter-and-pickles sandwiches!
Wwrrrreeeeeeeee! Wwrrrreeeeeeeee! Wwrrrreeeeeeeee!
What do you get when you cross Norman Bates and Charles Manson? Answer: the crazy girl who is currently stalking me. As much as I would love to relate this fascinating tale here on the blog, one must be very careful to avoid such publicity when being stalked. So let's just say that, short of the presence of any talking souvenirs (so far), I'm beginning to wonder if I haven't accidentally stumbled into an episode of Wonderfalls. If you'd like the full story, leave me your e-mail address and I'll fill you in. Or you could ask Kate. I told it all to her on Friday, but it has since been enhanced with some wacky new developments.
Also, just in case you were wondering, it is very hard to type out phonetically the accompanying music to the shower scene in Psycho (see title). That's what it sounds like to me, but I'm open to other interpretations/suggestions.
What do you get when you cross Norman Bates and Charles Manson? Answer: the crazy girl who is currently stalking me. As much as I would love to relate this fascinating tale here on the blog, one must be very careful to avoid such publicity when being stalked. So let's just say that, short of the presence of any talking souvenirs (so far), I'm beginning to wonder if I haven't accidentally stumbled into an episode of Wonderfalls. If you'd like the full story, leave me your e-mail address and I'll fill you in. Or you could ask Kate. I told it all to her on Friday, but it has since been enhanced with some wacky new developments.
Also, just in case you were wondering, it is very hard to type out phonetically the accompanying music to the shower scene in Psycho (see title). That's what it sounds like to me, but I'm open to other interpretations/suggestions.
Friday, March 26, 2004
Here we go again
I said I wouldn't do this again, but apparently I have somewhat of a problem. Is there a support group for people who repeatedly try to predict the outcomes of reality TV shows, even though they have been embarrassingly wrong every time they've tried to do so in the past? If so, sign me up, because I just can't resist this one. Here are my predictions for The Apprentice:
Next week, Amy and Nick will lose, and Nick will be fired. The week after, when asked to pick someone to join her team, Amy will pick Bill. Trump will raise his eyebrows and make some sort of sarcastic comment when she does this, since Troy and Kwame picked Bill this week. Amy and Bill will go on to win, which means Troy and Kwame will be headed to the boardroom, where Kwame will be fired, leaving Troy, Amy and Bill to duke it out in the live grand finale.
As for the winner? I can't really say right now, but my instinct's telling me it's going to be Bill. Which will just be anti-climatic, like Yoanna winning America's Next Top Model or Reichen and Chip winning The Amazing Race. Bill is the guy you expect to win this--he's the educated white male. Amy and Troy, on the other hand, are the underdogs. She's a woman; he's never been to college. Still, after this week's serious misstep, I don't see Trump picking Amy, especially if he's watched the episode prior to the finale and sees the underhanded way in which she tried to steal all the other team's ideas. As for Troy, I think he's too much of a loose cannon to win. My guess is that Trump will go for someone more stable and balanced, like Bill. Which will be boring. But what are you going to do? If I were choosing someone to run one of my companies, I'd probably choose Bill, too.
Of course, there is always the slight possibility that I'm wrong. It's been known to happen. Whatever the outcome, there's one thing I'd be willing to put money on. Ten bucks (which I realize is not that much money, but hey, I'm not Donald Trump here, people) says that when the winner is crowned, he/she says to The Donald, "You won't regret it!" Five bucks says that, a year from now, The Donald will regret it.
I said I wouldn't do this again, but apparently I have somewhat of a problem. Is there a support group for people who repeatedly try to predict the outcomes of reality TV shows, even though they have been embarrassingly wrong every time they've tried to do so in the past? If so, sign me up, because I just can't resist this one. Here are my predictions for The Apprentice:
Next week, Amy and Nick will lose, and Nick will be fired. The week after, when asked to pick someone to join her team, Amy will pick Bill. Trump will raise his eyebrows and make some sort of sarcastic comment when she does this, since Troy and Kwame picked Bill this week. Amy and Bill will go on to win, which means Troy and Kwame will be headed to the boardroom, where Kwame will be fired, leaving Troy, Amy and Bill to duke it out in the live grand finale.
As for the winner? I can't really say right now, but my instinct's telling me it's going to be Bill. Which will just be anti-climatic, like Yoanna winning America's Next Top Model or Reichen and Chip winning The Amazing Race. Bill is the guy you expect to win this--he's the educated white male. Amy and Troy, on the other hand, are the underdogs. She's a woman; he's never been to college. Still, after this week's serious misstep, I don't see Trump picking Amy, especially if he's watched the episode prior to the finale and sees the underhanded way in which she tried to steal all the other team's ideas. As for Troy, I think he's too much of a loose cannon to win. My guess is that Trump will go for someone more stable and balanced, like Bill. Which will be boring. But what are you going to do? If I were choosing someone to run one of my companies, I'd probably choose Bill, too.
Of course, there is always the slight possibility that I'm wrong. It's been known to happen. Whatever the outcome, there's one thing I'd be willing to put money on. Ten bucks (which I realize is not that much money, but hey, I'm not Donald Trump here, people) says that when the winner is crowned, he/she says to The Donald, "You won't regret it!" Five bucks says that, a year from now, The Donald will regret it.
Wednesday, March 24, 2004
If I were an Idol...
Here's something I find puzzling about American Idol. Why is it that the contestants constantly talk back to the judges, yet kiss Ryan Seacrest's ass like there's no tomorrow? This makes no sense at all. The judges are essentially the ones in control of the contestants' fate, so shouldn't their asses be the ones getting kissed? Even at this stage of the competition, when the judges don't have a direct effect on who moves on from week to week, their opinions can still affect the voting habits of the American public. And at any rate, they're certainly more influential to the outcome of the show than Ryan Seacrest ever will be.
In fact, it seems to me that if one is trying to use Ryan Seacrest to garner votes, the best way to do this is by being rude to him. If his self-deprecating AT&T commercials are any indication, even he (or at least the marketing gurus at AT&T) realizes that by now, a large portion of the American public can't stand him. So why not try to appeal to this section of the voting community by turning the attitude on Seacrest for a change?
Let's take Fantasia Barrino, for example. Last night when Simon tried to give her what I believe was intended as a compliment (unless I'm totally out of it and calling someone young and fun and energetic is now an insult), Fantasia totally went off on him. Yet when she walked over to the stools and was subjected to yet another round of inane questions from Seacrest, she gave him the most pandering, mealy-mouthed answers possible. If it had been me, I would have done exactly the opposite. Here's how things would have gone had I been the contestant:
Simon: "The thing about you is that you're a very young, fun, energetic performer. But tonight you looked like an old lady. You look like your mother dressed you."
Me: [nod and smile] "OK."
Or, because I seem to remember Simon once saying that he thought Fantasia's exuberant performances were too over-the-top (or maybe that was just Chase), an alternate answer would have been:
Me: [in a respectful, non-mouthing-off manner]: "Well, I'm confused--before you said you wanted me to tone it down. Now I do, and you don't like it. What do you want me to do?"
Now we move on to Seacrest.
Seacrest: "We have to take a break now because I have to do my hair. My grass roots are showing, know what I mean?"
Me: "I don't know about grass roots, but I certainly see some black ones."
Or, as an alternate answer if we needed to stall for time:
Me: [blank stare] "No. That makes absolutely no sense. Who writes your lines, anyway? [peer at teleprompter] Oh my God, you're ad libbing this stuff? Seriously, was that the best you could come up with?"
Here's something else that puzzles me about American Idol: If Randy Jackson's entire repertoire consists of approximately four sentences, how the hell did he manage to write a book?
Here's something I find puzzling about American Idol. Why is it that the contestants constantly talk back to the judges, yet kiss Ryan Seacrest's ass like there's no tomorrow? This makes no sense at all. The judges are essentially the ones in control of the contestants' fate, so shouldn't their asses be the ones getting kissed? Even at this stage of the competition, when the judges don't have a direct effect on who moves on from week to week, their opinions can still affect the voting habits of the American public. And at any rate, they're certainly more influential to the outcome of the show than Ryan Seacrest ever will be.
In fact, it seems to me that if one is trying to use Ryan Seacrest to garner votes, the best way to do this is by being rude to him. If his self-deprecating AT&T commercials are any indication, even he (or at least the marketing gurus at AT&T) realizes that by now, a large portion of the American public can't stand him. So why not try to appeal to this section of the voting community by turning the attitude on Seacrest for a change?
Let's take Fantasia Barrino, for example. Last night when Simon tried to give her what I believe was intended as a compliment (unless I'm totally out of it and calling someone young and fun and energetic is now an insult), Fantasia totally went off on him. Yet when she walked over to the stools and was subjected to yet another round of inane questions from Seacrest, she gave him the most pandering, mealy-mouthed answers possible. If it had been me, I would have done exactly the opposite. Here's how things would have gone had I been the contestant:
Simon: "The thing about you is that you're a very young, fun, energetic performer. But tonight you looked like an old lady. You look like your mother dressed you."
Me: [nod and smile] "OK."
Or, because I seem to remember Simon once saying that he thought Fantasia's exuberant performances were too over-the-top (or maybe that was just Chase), an alternate answer would have been:
Me: [in a respectful, non-mouthing-off manner]: "Well, I'm confused--before you said you wanted me to tone it down. Now I do, and you don't like it. What do you want me to do?"
Now we move on to Seacrest.
Seacrest: "We have to take a break now because I have to do my hair. My grass roots are showing, know what I mean?"
Me: "I don't know about grass roots, but I certainly see some black ones."
Or, as an alternate answer if we needed to stall for time:
Me: [blank stare] "No. That makes absolutely no sense. Who writes your lines, anyway? [peer at teleprompter] Oh my God, you're ad libbing this stuff? Seriously, was that the best you could come up with?"
Here's something else that puzzles me about American Idol: If Randy Jackson's entire repertoire consists of approximately four sentences, how the hell did he manage to write a book?
Monday, March 22, 2004
Sometimes I amaze myself
Today at lunch, I managed to drop an entire tub of hummus on my lap. That's a quite an accomplishment, even for someone as clumsy as me.
Oh, no!
Kristen's husband is going on a reality TV dating show! OK, not really. But doesn't this picture of the new Bachelor bear an uncanny resemblance to Jason? Perhaps they're long-lost twins!
Today at lunch, I managed to drop an entire tub of hummus on my lap. That's a quite an accomplishment, even for someone as clumsy as me.
Oh, no!
Kristen's husband is going on a reality TV dating show! OK, not really. But doesn't this picture of the new Bachelor bear an uncanny resemblance to Jason? Perhaps they're long-lost twins!
Friday, March 19, 2004
I've fallen
Doug was right (again). Wonderfalls is awesome. So awesome, in fact, that by the end of the premiere's encore last night, I was already setting my VCR to tape tonight's episode. It's kind of like Amelie, only the heroine is a quirky, sarcastic American girl instead of a quirky, adorable French girl.
I wonder...is the quarter motif symbolic of Jaye's apparent quarter-life crisis? Or am I reading too much into it? Yeah, probably so.
Doug was right (again). Wonderfalls is awesome. So awesome, in fact, that by the end of the premiere's encore last night, I was already setting my VCR to tape tonight's episode. It's kind of like Amelie, only the heroine is a quirky, sarcastic American girl instead of a quirky, adorable French girl.
I wonder...is the quarter motif symbolic of Jaye's apparent quarter-life crisis? Or am I reading too much into it? Yeah, probably so.
Thursday, March 18, 2004
Genius strikes again
Last night, after watching a re-run of last week's Apprentice, I had the most brilliant idea for another reality series. The Apprentice is a great show, I thought, but why confine it just to the business realm? Why not bring it to the world of...publishing?
Originally, my concept for the show was to have a bunch of seasoned editors duking it out for the privilege to manage the launch of a hot new magazine for one of the big publishers. But soon I realized that this idea was missing one of the crucial elements of a successful reality show: a cast composed mostly of dumb, pretty people.
So I switched to focus of the show to a contest that would take freshly scrubbed college grads and put them through an intensive set of challenges each week (similar to those on The Apprentice, although obviously targeted toward the magazine industry), with the ultimate reward being the chance to work as an editorial assistant at a major glossy. (Believe it or not, there are people out there who would still consider that a "reward." Even after reading The Devil Wears Prada.)
My first choice for a host? Graydon Carter. If he's busy, I'm sure Bonnie Fuller, Tina Brown or Anna Wintour would all be equally entertaining.
I think this is my favorite reality-show idea yet.
Last night, after watching a re-run of last week's Apprentice, I had the most brilliant idea for another reality series. The Apprentice is a great show, I thought, but why confine it just to the business realm? Why not bring it to the world of...publishing?
Originally, my concept for the show was to have a bunch of seasoned editors duking it out for the privilege to manage the launch of a hot new magazine for one of the big publishers. But soon I realized that this idea was missing one of the crucial elements of a successful reality show: a cast composed mostly of dumb, pretty people.
So I switched to focus of the show to a contest that would take freshly scrubbed college grads and put them through an intensive set of challenges each week (similar to those on The Apprentice, although obviously targeted toward the magazine industry), with the ultimate reward being the chance to work as an editorial assistant at a major glossy. (Believe it or not, there are people out there who would still consider that a "reward." Even after reading The Devil Wears Prada.)
My first choice for a host? Graydon Carter. If he's busy, I'm sure Bonnie Fuller, Tina Brown or Anna Wintour would all be equally entertaining.
I think this is my favorite reality-show idea yet.
Wednesday, March 17, 2004
This episode was brought to you by the word "sex"
Last night on America's Next Top Porn Star...er, Model, Shandi kicked things off by cheating on her boyfriend when she got drunk and bedded down with an Italian stud. But can you blame her? Two months living in Estrogen Central + red wine + hot Italian men + a hot tub = sorry, boyfriend. Hell, I cheated on my boyfriend during that scene, and I wasn't even there! And I don't even have a boyfriend! (Well, unless you count Jon Peter Lewis and/or his brothers.)
The carnality continued when the girls were asked to do a nude girl-on-girl shoot. OK, seriously. Nude is one thing. Girl-on-girl is one thing. But together? What's next? The girls help launch Tyra's foray into soft-core porn? I'm telling you, they're not far away.
Last night on America's Next Top Porn Star...er, Model, Shandi kicked things off by cheating on her boyfriend when she got drunk and bedded down with an Italian stud. But can you blame her? Two months living in Estrogen Central + red wine + hot Italian men + a hot tub = sorry, boyfriend. Hell, I cheated on my boyfriend during that scene, and I wasn't even there! And I don't even have a boyfriend! (Well, unless you count Jon Peter Lewis and/or his brothers.)
The carnality continued when the girls were asked to do a nude girl-on-girl shoot. OK, seriously. Nude is one thing. Girl-on-girl is one thing. But together? What's next? The girls help launch Tyra's foray into soft-core porn? I'm telling you, they're not far away.
Tuesday, March 16, 2004
Aaack!, or Buh-bye, Arizona
I found a scorpion in my suitcase on Friday morning when I was packing to go home, causing me to seriously reconsider my earlier decision to never leave Arizona. So here I am back in Birmingham, where apparently we do have scorpions, but I have thankfully never seen one in my personal belongings.
All Joe-d Out
Another thing I'm seriously reconsidering is my devotion to the Average Joe franchise. At this point, I'm really only watching it because there's nothing else worth watching on Monday nights. However, after last night's premiere of "Adam Returns," in which Adam summarily dumped all of the slightly pudgy girls, proving that he's no better than his beauty-queen predecessors, I began to wonder if my time wouldn't be better spent reading novels while listening to classical music, in Bridget Jones self-improvement fashion. Plus, seeing Jason Peoples in drag was really not something I needed to make my life complete. And when did he and Adam get to be such good buddies, anyway? Do you see what they're giving us to work with? Ugh. Hopefully this will be the last show in the Joe collective. I absolutely refuse to watch anything resembling "Brian's Back!"
I found a scorpion in my suitcase on Friday morning when I was packing to go home, causing me to seriously reconsider my earlier decision to never leave Arizona. So here I am back in Birmingham, where apparently we do have scorpions, but I have thankfully never seen one in my personal belongings.
All Joe-d Out
Another thing I'm seriously reconsidering is my devotion to the Average Joe franchise. At this point, I'm really only watching it because there's nothing else worth watching on Monday nights. However, after last night's premiere of "Adam Returns," in which Adam summarily dumped all of the slightly pudgy girls, proving that he's no better than his beauty-queen predecessors, I began to wonder if my time wouldn't be better spent reading novels while listening to classical music, in Bridget Jones self-improvement fashion. Plus, seeing Jason Peoples in drag was really not something I needed to make my life complete. And when did he and Adam get to be such good buddies, anyway? Do you see what they're giving us to work with? Ugh. Hopefully this will be the last show in the Joe collective. I absolutely refuse to watch anything resembling "Brian's Back!"
Wednesday, March 10, 2004
Bliss, or I'm not leaving Arizona
So since arriving in Arizona at noon today, I have already had
a) A cherry cheesecake Blizzard from DQ
b) A nice relaxing swim in the pool, coupled with a nice relaxing nap by the pool
c) Some delicious caramel cookies (called Daelman's Caramel Bites) left for me in my room by the folks at Cat
d) A nice long fantasy American Idol audition in my fabulously acoustical shower
All that, and I'm getting ready to go out to dinner, probably for some sublime Mexican food (which, as a rule, is better the closer you are to Mexico--and I'm less than an hour away). Were it not for 100-degree-plus summers and the fact that Heather is coming to visit me on Friday, I would seriously have to consider whether going back to Birmingham is really a wise decision.
So since arriving in Arizona at noon today, I have already had
a) A cherry cheesecake Blizzard from DQ
b) A nice relaxing swim in the pool, coupled with a nice relaxing nap by the pool
c) Some delicious caramel cookies (called Daelman's Caramel Bites) left for me in my room by the folks at Cat
d) A nice long fantasy American Idol audition in my fabulously acoustical shower
All that, and I'm getting ready to go out to dinner, probably for some sublime Mexican food (which, as a rule, is better the closer you are to Mexico--and I'm less than an hour away). Were it not for 100-degree-plus summers and the fact that Heather is coming to visit me on Friday, I would seriously have to consider whether going back to Birmingham is really a wise decision.
Tuesday, March 09, 2004
This takes the cake
So as all of you (especially Doug) know, I get a little fed up with the way LiveJournal refuses to acknowledge me by insisting that my name is "Anonymous" every time I try to post a comment. I hate it even more when I try to post a comment to my own comment (usually to leave my name, which I often forget, since HaloScan not only knows that I have a name but actually remembers what it is) and LiveJournal refers to me as "Someone." In my opinion, if they're going to insist that my name is "Anonymous," they should be consistent and keep calling me that.
However, today I have discovered a whole new level to LiveJournal's insults. Today, when attempting to post a comment on Holly's blog, I was met with the following reply from LiveJournal: "Please confirm that you are a human."
OK, look, LiveJournal. I've accepted the fact that you don't want to acknowledge that I have a name. But now you're trying to say that I'm not even a human being?! I don't think so. This is war!
So as all of you (especially Doug) know, I get a little fed up with the way LiveJournal refuses to acknowledge me by insisting that my name is "Anonymous" every time I try to post a comment. I hate it even more when I try to post a comment to my own comment (usually to leave my name, which I often forget, since HaloScan not only knows that I have a name but actually remembers what it is) and LiveJournal refers to me as "Someone." In my opinion, if they're going to insist that my name is "Anonymous," they should be consistent and keep calling me that.
However, today I have discovered a whole new level to LiveJournal's insults. Today, when attempting to post a comment on Holly's blog, I was met with the following reply from LiveJournal: "Please confirm that you are a human."
OK, look, LiveJournal. I've accepted the fact that you don't want to acknowledge that I have a name. But now you're trying to say that I'm not even a human being?! I don't think so. This is war!
Monday, March 08, 2004
Deja vu
As far as ensemble films about people having relationships in New York that are directed by an actor and feature Rosario Dawson, a slightly skeevy mustachioed older gentleman and the director's blonde then-significant other go, I much preferred Sidewalks of New York to Chelsea Walls. Once I figured out that they were not in fact the same film, that is.
Thank heaven I'm a girl
Sometimes it's good to be a girl. Case in point: Today I was doing a little research on glass-replacement companies so I can get Michael Stipe's windshield replaced. I went to the Web site of the glass company that had repaired the window of my old car when it got broken into and noticed that they had a "Ladies' Day" special on Wednesdays, meaning that they would waive my $50 or $100 deductible. Awesome, but there was one problem: I'm leaving for yet another business trip (Tucson this time) very early on Wednesday morning.
So I called the glass company and explained my situation to the man on the phone, asking in my sweetest voice if the Ladies' Day special was really just for Wednesday. He said if I didn't spread it around (which, now that I realize it, probably precludes me from writing about it on the blog, but since I didn't give the name of the company, I think it's OK), he would fix my windshield tomorrow and still give me the Ladies' Day special, which he said would be $50 off my $100 deductible. A few minutes later, he called back and said they could cover the entire $100. Score!
I wonder if I would have gotten this deal if one of the female receptionists who normally answer the phone had been there to take my call. It's probably best not to think about it.
As far as ensemble films about people having relationships in New York that are directed by an actor and feature Rosario Dawson, a slightly skeevy mustachioed older gentleman and the director's blonde then-significant other go, I much preferred Sidewalks of New York to Chelsea Walls. Once I figured out that they were not in fact the same film, that is.
Thank heaven I'm a girl
Sometimes it's good to be a girl. Case in point: Today I was doing a little research on glass-replacement companies so I can get Michael Stipe's windshield replaced. I went to the Web site of the glass company that had repaired the window of my old car when it got broken into and noticed that they had a "Ladies' Day" special on Wednesdays, meaning that they would waive my $50 or $100 deductible. Awesome, but there was one problem: I'm leaving for yet another business trip (Tucson this time) very early on Wednesday morning.
So I called the glass company and explained my situation to the man on the phone, asking in my sweetest voice if the Ladies' Day special was really just for Wednesday. He said if I didn't spread it around (which, now that I realize it, probably precludes me from writing about it on the blog, but since I didn't give the name of the company, I think it's OK), he would fix my windshield tomorrow and still give me the Ladies' Day special, which he said would be $50 off my $100 deductible. A few minutes later, he called back and said they could cover the entire $100. Score!
I wonder if I would have gotten this deal if one of the female receptionists who normally answer the phone had been there to take my call. It's probably best not to think about it.
Saturday, March 06, 2004
Vegas, or something like it
Sadly, my first trip to Vegas was a bit lackluster. That's mainly because all the people I was with were veteran industry journalists who had already been to Vegas a million times. So while I was all, "Vegas, baby, Vegas!" they were all, "Vegas...eh." Undoubtedly my trip would have been better had I been able to meet up with the delightful Miss Christine Mayer, but that was not in the cards. (Chrissy, if you're reading this, by the time I got your message, I was heading for bed. Everyone else, if you're reading this, I apologize for using the blog to deliver personal messages to Chrissy. But I figured it was time I gave Rob's blog a break.)
Just when you thought it was safe to drive again
Mere months after recovering from his unfortunate accident, Michael Stipe is once again injured. Now he has a crack in the windshield, ostensibly caused by some unknown and unseen flying rock-like object. I first noticed the crack yesterday afternoon as I was leaving work, and it didn't seem so bad, as it was only a couple of inches long and not very deep. It has since grown to twice its size, leading me to believe that it's only a matter of time before the entire windshield shatters into a million pieces. Hopefully I can get it fixed before this happens.
Sadly, my first trip to Vegas was a bit lackluster. That's mainly because all the people I was with were veteran industry journalists who had already been to Vegas a million times. So while I was all, "Vegas, baby, Vegas!" they were all, "Vegas...eh." Undoubtedly my trip would have been better had I been able to meet up with the delightful Miss Christine Mayer, but that was not in the cards. (Chrissy, if you're reading this, by the time I got your message, I was heading for bed. Everyone else, if you're reading this, I apologize for using the blog to deliver personal messages to Chrissy. But I figured it was time I gave Rob's blog a break.)
Just when you thought it was safe to drive again
Mere months after recovering from his unfortunate accident, Michael Stipe is once again injured. Now he has a crack in the windshield, ostensibly caused by some unknown and unseen flying rock-like object. I first noticed the crack yesterday afternoon as I was leaving work, and it didn't seem so bad, as it was only a couple of inches long and not very deep. It has since grown to twice its size, leading me to believe that it's only a matter of time before the entire windshield shatters into a million pieces. Hopefully I can get it fixed before this happens.
Monday, March 01, 2004
Gross and grosser
On Friday, thanks to one of my illustrious co-workers, the entire office was given a coupon for a free chicken sandwich (with the purchase of medium fries and a medium drink) at Chick-Fil-A. Today, I decided to go cash my coupon in, even though I really prefer their nuggets. But who can turn down a free sandwich? As I was ordering my sandwich, I realized that I had forgotten to make a very important inquiry.
"What comes on the sandwich?" I asked the cashier.
"Butter and pickles," he answered.
Come again? Butter and pickles? Hastily, I switched my order to a plain sandwich. Seriously, butter and pickles?! Have you ever heard of anything so gross?
With my butter-and-pickle-free chicken sandwich in tow, I was speeding back toward the office when suddenly, the light I was approaching turned yellow. I slammed on the brakes, thereby spilling every single one of my nice, warm waffle fries all over the passenger-seat floorboard. So I did what any self-respecting fry-lover would do. I cited the five-second rule (not to be confused with the five-minute rule), reached over and threw the fries that had landed on what appeared to be a clean part of the floor mat back into the bag. And took them back to my office and ate them (inspecting them first, of course, for any signs of dirt or carpet fuzz).
Is it wrong that I find the prospect of a chicken sandwich with butter and pickles much, much more disgusting than the prospect of eating food that's been on the floor of my (almost brand-new, mind you) car?
On Friday, thanks to one of my illustrious co-workers, the entire office was given a coupon for a free chicken sandwich (with the purchase of medium fries and a medium drink) at Chick-Fil-A. Today, I decided to go cash my coupon in, even though I really prefer their nuggets. But who can turn down a free sandwich? As I was ordering my sandwich, I realized that I had forgotten to make a very important inquiry.
"What comes on the sandwich?" I asked the cashier.
"Butter and pickles," he answered.
Come again? Butter and pickles? Hastily, I switched my order to a plain sandwich. Seriously, butter and pickles?! Have you ever heard of anything so gross?
With my butter-and-pickle-free chicken sandwich in tow, I was speeding back toward the office when suddenly, the light I was approaching turned yellow. I slammed on the brakes, thereby spilling every single one of my nice, warm waffle fries all over the passenger-seat floorboard. So I did what any self-respecting fry-lover would do. I cited the five-second rule (not to be confused with the five-minute rule), reached over and threw the fries that had landed on what appeared to be a clean part of the floor mat back into the bag. And took them back to my office and ate them (inspecting them first, of course, for any signs of dirt or carpet fuzz).
Is it wrong that I find the prospect of a chicken sandwich with butter and pickles much, much more disgusting than the prospect of eating food that's been on the floor of my (almost brand-new, mind you) car?
Quick Poll in Lieu of Actual Post
Tonight on Average Joe 2, Larissa will reveal a "shocking" secret. What do you think it could be?
a) All of her "art" was done with the help of a paint-by-numbers kit.
b) She's actually already married...to Chris Harrison of The Bachelor/ette.
c) Together with Sarah from the original Joe Millionaire, she's made hundreds of foot-fetish bondage videos.
d) Something stupid and trite, like she's really a millionaire.
Personally, I vote for anything in the a) through c) range, although since this show has yet to introduce the "money" element into the "abs vs. money" debate, it's probably more along the lines of d). Boo.
Tonight on Average Joe 2, Larissa will reveal a "shocking" secret. What do you think it could be?
a) All of her "art" was done with the help of a paint-by-numbers kit.
b) She's actually already married...to Chris Harrison of The Bachelor/ette.
c) Together with Sarah from the original Joe Millionaire, she's made hundreds of foot-fetish bondage videos.
d) Something stupid and trite, like she's really a millionaire.
Personally, I vote for anything in the a) through c) range, although since this show has yet to introduce the "money" element into the "abs vs. money" debate, it's probably more along the lines of d). Boo.
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