Thursday, July 31, 2008

An Ode to Working Late:

I've realized that anything and everything can be avoided or excused by working late. I came to this realization in the last few weeks b/c I have indeed been working late. How can you be expected to carry out your personal day to day work when you put in so many hours at the office? Right? Right.

Working late allows you to engage in several levels of irresponsibility that might otherwise be frowned upon. Just add the phrase "since I worked so late today" to the end of any sentence and be amazed as people's faces go from cynical to sympathetic. I'll give you a few examples:

"I didn't get around to washing the dishes, since I worked so late today"

That's alright! You don't worry about those smelly ol' dishes. You probably didn't even have time to use a dish seeing as how you worked so late!

"I didn't make it to the gym, since I worked so late today"

Sat around on the couch instead of hitting up that kickboxing class? Don't worry about it! You worked off your lunch by running back and forth to the accounting department. Besides, Diet Coke and Starburst don't have that many calories anyway.

"I'm sorry I never called you back...since I worked so late today..."

This one's a little trickier. I recommend adding a pause before you throw in the chosen phrase to add a dramatic effect. Throw up your hands and shake your head in bewilderment while you lower the bomb. This way people won't consider you a bad friend or a workaholic! They'll simply think you stayed so late at work that you temporarily lost all control of your faculties. You were lucky to even make it home, much less call to chat with them.

So next time you're in a sticky situation try it out! Let the laziness begin!

Tuesday, July 29, 2008

2 bones for an avacado?

I just went to the store and got the shtuff to make some delicious sandwiches.

mmmmmmm. sandwicheeeeeeeeeees.

Sunday, July 13, 2008

Doctor, ain't there nothin' I can take, I said Doctor, to relieve this bellyache?

I write to you a damaged woman. I will use my nine good fingers to explain:

Wednesday night I received a coconut. Eager to enjoy my snack I promptly went to work on it. The nut had already been removed from it's outer crust (see diagram) in traditional grocery store fashion. It was up to me to do the rest. First I drilled a hole into one of the coconut's "eyes" to drain the milk. My drill and I were both pretty excited (the drill doesn't see much action these days). Then I used my brute force to break the subject into several medium sized pieces. The next step was to cut the meat from the softer inner shell, but this would have to wait until tomorrow.

Which brings us to Thursday. Never being one to rise early enough for excessive tasks to be completed before work, I chose my lunch hour as the prime time for coconut meat removal. Unfortunately to explain my lengthy bouts of bad luck with knives and extreme heat would just take too long, so you'll just have to trust me. I knew I would have to move quickly and with great purpose. The longer you meddle with things like knives the greater opportunity for disaster. I grabbed the largest knife I owned. Now I know what you're thinking because I was thinking it too, but the large knife was absolutely necessary. You can't ask a boy to do a man's job. The events that followed were disastrous..... and typical.

I had made it down to the last piece. Maybe it was the sound of Tina Knowles voice in the background, maybe it was the Accident Prone gods smiting me. I dug the knife into the meat and applied full force to ensure a clean cut. Then the coconut buckled landing my left middle finger straight in the path of the blade. I dropped the knife and looked at my finger in disbelief, screaming at a level that was totally unnecessary (see video).

I was able to catch a glimpse of my finger nail hanging off just before my hand was encased in blood. I frantically and aimlessly wandered about the house for a moment, wondering what to do. I then realized I had no choice. I had to drive myself to the ER.

Now I don't mind being single, and I like living on my own. However, when a twenty-five year old, single gal has to do something like drive herself to the emergency room it can be quite traumatizing. When things like that start happening I'm pretty sure you get a complimentary membership to and 10 cats are delivered to your house within the next 24 hours. There's just no coming back from something like that.

So I'm speeding down 4th, calling work with one hand, bleeding with the other (I'm a good knee driver). I jog into the emergency room holding up my bloody hand (loosely wrapped in a lime green hand towel) like the Olympic Torch as if to say, "Here it is! Here's my quick ticket into this place!" Of course, this didn't happen. First the nurse had to order her steak fingers basket for lunch, THEN I got to see the Doctor.

I did eventually see a nice lady doctor (not a lady doctor... a lady doctor) who glued the hanging stump back onto the rest of me. They tell me there's no reason why my finger won't go on to have a perfectly happy and healthy life. Sadly I don't own a digital camera, so any actual sitings of the finger will have to happen in person. But it does look something like this:

Okay, not really. But it is pretty gross.

Tuesday, July 8, 2008

Monday Night Smack Down (Tuesday Edition)!

Tonight's Smack Down is between the great Warren Zevon and the not so great Kid Rock.

It has long been a petpeeve of mine when struggling (or not) artists take a slightly lesser known classic and whore it out just to make a dime. Take Kid Rock's recent taste of success with "All Summer Long". By sampling Zevon's hit "Werewolves of London" and poorly referencing Lynyrd Skynyrd's timeless "Sweet Home Alabama", Kid earns his place as a two time offender. Perhaps someone's bank account needs a little beefing up. It seems that pride wasn't the only thing Mr. Rock lost in his divorce from Pammy.

But don't let me decide for you!! Take a gander at the clips and decide for yourself. I will award KR a few points for the righteous party boat featured 1:06 in (I give credit where credit's due) but Lynyrd Skynyrd takes the ultimate prize with the sexy crowd footage ;)

*Warren Zevon's 'Werewolves of London'

*Kid Rock's 'All Summer Long'

*Lynyrd Skynyrd's 'Sweet Home Alabama'

Sunday, July 6, 2008

In the AM

This is how I feel some mornings...

Thursday, July 3, 2008

Another year older, another guy wiser.

Forgive me for my neglect. It was never intentional.

In recent news, I turned 25. I am now 1/4 of the way toward my goal of living to see 100. In reaching this milestone of a birthday I have attempted to do some soul searching of sorts. Of course I'm always attempting to soul search, but a birthday gave me a legit reason to do so. In the grand tradition of searching ones soul, I decided to buy a book. Through the course of wading thigh deep through my soul I have finally decided to come to grips with my situation with Apples.

Apples is just not that into me.

It's alright, I can embrace this. After all, I am 25 now and living with the false hope of a Happily Ever Apple isn't doing anyone a lick of good. So I swiftly settled on the book of the similar title "He's Just Not That Into You". Aside from selling millions this book is supposedly a jolly read on top of a good gut check. After casually looking (that's a dirty lie, I tirelessly scavenged) around Walmart and Target I came up empty handed. It was time to consult the professionals: Barnes and Noble. So Wednesday, after an exhausting session of kickboxing, I hit the hip book store to purchase my new view on dating and relationships. I knew they would have it, they have everything.... and this was a best seller!

As I walked in I briskly scanned over the displays down the middle aisle. Ahhh yes, the coveted middle aisle display. Where all the popular books with hip, colorful jackets sit. It's like the cafeteria at school. You have your New Arrivals greeting you like president of the student council while the New Fiction and New in Paperback arm wrestle at the jocks table. The Bargain Books cheat off of the Bestsellers' homework while the Children's Books furiously text away in the back corner. And then there's that new kid, Beach Reads. Not really sure about that guy. I looked everywhere. EVERYWHERE.

I even slowly skulked past the help desk hoping the hidden location of my book might somehow be transfered through osmosis. I could've asked an employee where to find it, but the only thing more ridiculous (and by ridiculous I mean sad and pathetic) than me asking a book to explain my relationships to me was asking someone to help me find the book.

Nothing. Where could it be? I had exhausted all possible locations......... except......... the Self Help Section (cue lightning and shattering glass). Hmmph! I smuggly "wandered" through the aisles just "casually" letting my eyes "glance" at the covers. Way of the Peaceful Warrior: A Book that Changes Lives and Just Who Will You Be?: Big Question, Little Book, Answer Within constructively judged me as I walked by. All of these books, but not mine.

I finally gave up and went home. Perhaps I'm not meant to read the book. I ate an orange in the car.......... that Orange was definitely into me.

Be who you are and say what you feel, because those who mind don't matter and those who matter don't mind. ~Dr. Seuss