Last night, after displaying signs of vertigo after perusing the paint section at the Hollywood Home Depot for a half hour too long, I was later greeted by a very angry woman in my laundry room who so eloquently let me know that my taking her 3/4-the-way dry clothes out of the washing machine and placing them on the dryer was JUST NOT acceptable. But THAT wasn't enough. Her mother then WAITED for me on my way down to put my things in the dryer to ONCE AGAIN let me know taking her daughters clothes out of the machine was NOT acceptable. Neighbor Friend was with me, THANK GOD, but man oh man, talk about a creepy situation. They were double-teaming and yelling assumptions that just DO NOT exist. Very bad.
Our laundry room has three washers and three dryers. For the size of our building, that is just not very much. I have been apartment dwelling for YEARS and usually give people a grace period as to how long I can hold out on letting their clothes lie dormant, but last night, it was a different story. These clothes were CLEARLY almost dry and had taken the mishape of the washing machine. Whatever the case may be, it was a truly hellish situation and one where communication was JUST NOT getting thru...
The BB was on a rampage earlier this morning so that just added dose of arsenic to my already acid rain-laced cornflakes...
CALGON! Take me away!
(But I did find some nice paint colors and have a fun project in store.)
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Monday, January 30, 2006
Intolerable Cruelty
On Saturday, I finally went and saw, "Brokeback Mountain." J and I opted to see it at the The Arclight.
Let me start by saying, I LOVE the Arclight. Its assigned seating but patrons can choose their spots. GREAT people watching in ticket lines. The sound is great, all of the theaters have stadium seating, comfy seats, good munchie selections AND ushers who try to accommodate you while viewing your flick. (AND…there's an actual bar with actual drinkie-drinks.)
We arrived just a few minutes before the movie was starting, so our seat selection was down to the last few. There were a few on the very bottom and few on the very top. We went to the top.
As we nestled comfortably into our chairs, there was a woman on one side of me and then an empty chair next to her. That was fine. What happened next was NOT fine…
A woman comes barreling up the stairs with the LARGEST popcorn available to man, nachos, well-sized drink and loudly barks to her friend, "_____, can you move over to the next seat??"
Oh no. So Lady-with-the-concessions plops down right next to me. At first, everything seemed okay, except as the movie started, the crunching had begun. Now, I know. People crunch popcorn. This was different as she was putting so much effort in that she was taking obsessive LARGE breaths in between. She was "out of breath" from eating her vat of popcorn.
As that slowly started my descent into anger-at-movies-hell, the two of them started to have little discussions.
"Isn't that Heath Ledger?"
"Oh yes, that's him."
"What was he in again, Braveheart?"
"No, NOT Braveheart, The Patriot."
"Oh yea. He looks different in this movie…."
"He sure does."
These little dialogues happened about every 12 minutes. Yes. I was checking the time to see how long it would take for the next one to start.
"Isn't that guy Jake Gyllenhaal?"
"From Spider-man?"
"No, that's Tobey something."
"Oh, right."
And my personal favorite:
"I know her! That girl (woman is pointing to the extra in a scene and loudly saying this) …she's my doctor'sbestfriendsdaughter-in-law. He told me to watch for her! She's finally getting a break in the movies."
"Wonderful."
J, of course, had no one on the other side of him and of course, I was the only person to his right so after the movie, when I started my tirade about these vicious interruptions, he was like, "What? I didn't hear a thing."
The movie was good. Heath was amazing.
And then there was yesterday morning. I honestly thought the voice from the original Amityville Horror was alive and thriving in my living room ("GET OUT…")
I planned on making chili yesterday. At around 8 a.m., I squintally got out of bed, put on a pot of coffee and start the chili process.
As I blearily put together the coffee stuff, I heard this loud noise, like an airplane or a surge of warped speed light saber sounds. I walked to my window thinking a plane was about to smash into my building when it occurred to me, the people across the way must have gotten a surround sound system…it works. Especially at 8 a.m. on a Sunday. Yay for me.
My "only in L.A." for the day?
As I was pulling out of my apartment, a 60+ year old man was jogging, barefoot in his Speedos around the neighborhood!
Let me start by saying, I LOVE the Arclight. Its assigned seating but patrons can choose their spots. GREAT people watching in ticket lines. The sound is great, all of the theaters have stadium seating, comfy seats, good munchie selections AND ushers who try to accommodate you while viewing your flick. (AND…there's an actual bar with actual drinkie-drinks.)
We arrived just a few minutes before the movie was starting, so our seat selection was down to the last few. There were a few on the very bottom and few on the very top. We went to the top.
As we nestled comfortably into our chairs, there was a woman on one side of me and then an empty chair next to her. That was fine. What happened next was NOT fine…
A woman comes barreling up the stairs with the LARGEST popcorn available to man, nachos, well-sized drink and loudly barks to her friend, "_____, can you move over to the next seat??"
Oh no. So Lady-with-the-concessions plops down right next to me. At first, everything seemed okay, except as the movie started, the crunching had begun. Now, I know. People crunch popcorn. This was different as she was putting so much effort in that she was taking obsessive LARGE breaths in between. She was "out of breath" from eating her vat of popcorn.
As that slowly started my descent into anger-at-movies-hell, the two of them started to have little discussions.
"Isn't that Heath Ledger?"
"Oh yes, that's him."
"What was he in again, Braveheart?"
"No, NOT Braveheart, The Patriot."
"Oh yea. He looks different in this movie…."
"He sure does."
These little dialogues happened about every 12 minutes. Yes. I was checking the time to see how long it would take for the next one to start.
"Isn't that guy Jake Gyllenhaal?"
"From Spider-man?"
"No, that's Tobey something."
"Oh, right."
And my personal favorite:
"I know her! That girl (woman is pointing to the extra in a scene and loudly saying this) …she's my doctor'sbestfriendsdaughter-in-law. He told me to watch for her! She's finally getting a break in the movies."
"Wonderful."
J, of course, had no one on the other side of him and of course, I was the only person to his right so after the movie, when I started my tirade about these vicious interruptions, he was like, "What? I didn't hear a thing."
The movie was good. Heath was amazing.
And then there was yesterday morning. I honestly thought the voice from the original Amityville Horror was alive and thriving in my living room ("GET OUT…")
I planned on making chili yesterday. At around 8 a.m., I squintally got out of bed, put on a pot of coffee and start the chili process.
As I blearily put together the coffee stuff, I heard this loud noise, like an airplane or a surge of warped speed light saber sounds. I walked to my window thinking a plane was about to smash into my building when it occurred to me, the people across the way must have gotten a surround sound system…it works. Especially at 8 a.m. on a Sunday. Yay for me.
My "only in L.A." for the day?
As I was pulling out of my apartment, a 60+ year old man was jogging, barefoot in his Speedos around the neighborhood!
Friday, January 27, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Things that happen when boredom strikes...
Yesterday afternoon, T and I were bored, bored, bored. We found a lost hard-boiled egg on the floor in our kitchen and thought we might make him our new adventure pal. That didn't work out because someone threw him in the garbage. We then settled for Mr. Pathetic, but cute, LemonHead.
Well Dunne
I was at the gym last night. There are four TV's in the cardio section, perched up on the wall. The TV's have "closed captioning" on so if I am music-less or magazine-less, I will usually read the screen. There are usually news programs on and then Larry King live. Love Larry King.
Last night, however, as I rode the elliptical, sweating buckets all over my person and People magazine, I nearly fell off my machine when I read what came across the screen.
Last night's guest was Dominick Dunne. I love Dominick Dunne…HUGE fan. Day-am, that man has been in and out of the ringer a million times over between being a well-known public alcoholic, was once PUNCHED out by a man because "Frank Sinatra told me to," lost his daughter, Dominique (you remember her from "Poltergeist"…she was big sister Dana, who is gone most of the movie, until she comes home to the ghostly chaos and starts shrieking, "What's happening….!!!!!") to a stalker boyfriend, but all in all, his books, "Vanity Fair" articles and everything else he touches, are fascinating.
Last night, he and Larry were talking about The Rich and infamous families. The Menendez brothers were a part of the discussion, as were a slew of other stories, but at one point, he started talking about the Hilton and proclaimed that Ms. Paris earned a WHOPPING (this on top of her VERY meaty slab of Hilton inheritance) $7 million dollars last year. He also said she was at Sundance and he saw a clip of her helping herself to some "freebie" Chanel (and let's face it, a girl of that money magnitude HARDLY needs a freebie).
To me, Paris earned $7 big ones simply for "showing up." Is her 15 minutes EVAR going to end?? She gets anywhere from $150,000 to $200,000 to appear at a party for 20 minutes. Does she REALLY add that much flare to an event??
I remember having a discussion about a year ago with someone at a party. We were having a little debate about the Kennedy's vs. the Hiltons. He tried to tell me that the Kennedy's were "much shadier" than anything the Hiltons could conger up. Dude. Apples and Oranges. Every family has skeletons (some living and breathing tow-headed sisters), but really…beyond the fact the Kennedy's were political folks, at least the kids (messed up or not) were public servants and DID do things to help out the community. Paris offers nothing. Nada. Zilch. NOT even good fashion tips and especially NO good tips on being an animal mother.
One good thing, the people of Sundance MUST Be in agreement. This was on MTV.com
"God Save the Hollywood Industry," read the banner. Below it hung a sign with Paris Hilton's disembodied head flashing a vapid smile in the middle of a red circle with a "Ghostbusters"-like slash through her face. Beneath that was the entryway to one of Tuesday night's most popular industry parties, the crowd roaring with conversations about how hard-partying pseudo-stars are undermining the Sundance experience." From Kevin Smith, ""[Hilton] is just like, 'Where's there a camera? I'm there. Where's my little dog? In two years, nobody's going to remember that name; mark my words," he laughed, sounding like he'd already R.S.V.P.'d to the "God Save the Hollywood Industry" party himself…."
A little more Hilton: The Chicago Hilton has this beautiful room on the top of it that has purple lights beaming out of it on specific nights. Apparently, Conrad Hilton, who was married to Elizabeth Taylor for just a little under a year, made this amazingly stunning room specifically for her. Imagine if that would have survived!
One other thing…some folks in Detroit want the day after the Superbowl to become a national holiday since apparently over half a million people take the day off anyway. They are calling it, "DA-Day". I am thinking there should be a floating holiday OR a "DAA-Day" for people like myself that think the Academy Awards IS their Superbowl.
Last night, however, as I rode the elliptical, sweating buckets all over my person and People magazine, I nearly fell off my machine when I read what came across the screen.
Last night's guest was Dominick Dunne. I love Dominick Dunne…HUGE fan. Day-am, that man has been in and out of the ringer a million times over between being a well-known public alcoholic, was once PUNCHED out by a man because "Frank Sinatra told me to," lost his daughter, Dominique (you remember her from "Poltergeist"…she was big sister Dana, who is gone most of the movie, until she comes home to the ghostly chaos and starts shrieking, "What's happening….!!!!!") to a stalker boyfriend, but all in all, his books, "Vanity Fair" articles and everything else he touches, are fascinating.
Last night, he and Larry were talking about The Rich and infamous families. The Menendez brothers were a part of the discussion, as were a slew of other stories, but at one point, he started talking about the Hilton and proclaimed that Ms. Paris earned a WHOPPING (this on top of her VERY meaty slab of Hilton inheritance) $7 million dollars last year. He also said she was at Sundance and he saw a clip of her helping herself to some "freebie" Chanel (and let's face it, a girl of that money magnitude HARDLY needs a freebie).
To me, Paris earned $7 big ones simply for "showing up." Is her 15 minutes EVAR going to end?? She gets anywhere from $150,000 to $200,000 to appear at a party for 20 minutes. Does she REALLY add that much flare to an event??
I remember having a discussion about a year ago with someone at a party. We were having a little debate about the Kennedy's vs. the Hiltons. He tried to tell me that the Kennedy's were "much shadier" than anything the Hiltons could conger up. Dude. Apples and Oranges. Every family has skeletons (some living and breathing tow-headed sisters), but really…beyond the fact the Kennedy's were political folks, at least the kids (messed up or not) were public servants and DID do things to help out the community. Paris offers nothing. Nada. Zilch. NOT even good fashion tips and especially NO good tips on being an animal mother.
One good thing, the people of Sundance MUST Be in agreement. This was on MTV.com
"God Save the Hollywood Industry," read the banner. Below it hung a sign with Paris Hilton's disembodied head flashing a vapid smile in the middle of a red circle with a "Ghostbusters"-like slash through her face. Beneath that was the entryway to one of Tuesday night's most popular industry parties, the crowd roaring with conversations about how hard-partying pseudo-stars are undermining the Sundance experience." From Kevin Smith, ""[Hilton] is just like, 'Where's there a camera? I'm there. Where's my little dog? In two years, nobody's going to remember that name; mark my words," he laughed, sounding like he'd already R.S.V.P.'d to the "God Save the Hollywood Industry" party himself…."
A little more Hilton: The Chicago Hilton has this beautiful room on the top of it that has purple lights beaming out of it on specific nights. Apparently, Conrad Hilton, who was married to Elizabeth Taylor for just a little under a year, made this amazingly stunning room specifically for her. Imagine if that would have survived!
One other thing…some folks in Detroit want the day after the Superbowl to become a national holiday since apparently over half a million people take the day off anyway. They are calling it, "DA-Day". I am thinking there should be a floating holiday OR a "DAA-Day" for people like myself that think the Academy Awards IS their Superbowl.
Wednesday, January 25, 2006
Miracles and other extraordinary events...
You know, my mani/pedi people are true miracle workers.
Take this dry weather, right? My hands were looking CREE-py and crepe...like the paper. My fingernails looked like I stuck them in pencil sharpeners and rather than make anyone gag or throw up in their mouth a little, I won't even talk about my feet.
But then, you go to the Nail place. Sometimes you don't get the good ones, but today, I got two truly gifted nail people. They took my Nightmare Nails and turned them into colorful, clean and public-friendly appendages. Now they are NICE Nails!
All this for a very low price and peace of mind! Btw, that's the new InStyle with Uma. It's a good one!
Take this dry weather, right? My hands were looking CREE-py and crepe...like the paper. My fingernails looked like I stuck them in pencil sharpeners and rather than make anyone gag or throw up in their mouth a little, I won't even talk about my feet.
But then, you go to the Nail place. Sometimes you don't get the good ones, but today, I got two truly gifted nail people. They took my Nightmare Nails and turned them into colorful, clean and public-friendly appendages. Now they are NICE Nails!
All this for a very low price and peace of mind! Btw, that's the new InStyle with Uma. It's a good one!
Blissful state of being
Well, I am definitely back in L.A. On Monday, it took me an HOUR and 10 minutes to get to work (on a weekend, it takes 15 minutes to do that same drive). While I don't think I could EVER live in Arizona, I definitely appreciated the wide open spaces. Even the gym my friend and I worked out in had TONS of space.
On a different note (no pun intended), I am SO over hearing about how the American Idol judges (SIMON) are so mean. I don't think I will be following the show like I have in past years, but of course, the auditions are loads of fun. But they are AUDITIONS and these total wankers show up thinking that they are either too good for the show or can't take the criticism.
Okay. Now that I am officially ALL over the board today, here is something fun to do in your spare time. The idea is to enter your name and "looks like" (make sure you do it in parenthesis) into Google, hit the "google search" button and see what pops up.
It's amazing what "Lisa looks like" ...
LISA LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD USE A GOOD TOUNGE LASHING!
What'd I do??
Lisa looks like she's going to look great AND be comfortable
YAY for me!
lisa looks like someone's drunk mom.
Maybe NOT the mom...
Lisa looks like a total brat who's making fun of Acid.
Huh??
Lisa looks like a goddess in her newly-finished Goddess yarns poncho!
Why thank you (taking a curtsy)
Lisa looks like she is going to throw up
Work is hard
Lisa looks like a prostitute
Only on a good day..
Lisa looks like she's been caught shoplifting at Saks.
No, that would be Winona...
Lisa looks like she's having a great time
ALWAYS
Lisa looks like she just won the Lotto.
From the web to the Universe...
Lisa looks like a zombie
Only at work
On a different note (no pun intended), I am SO over hearing about how the American Idol judges (SIMON) are so mean. I don't think I will be following the show like I have in past years, but of course, the auditions are loads of fun. But they are AUDITIONS and these total wankers show up thinking that they are either too good for the show or can't take the criticism.
Okay. Now that I am officially ALL over the board today, here is something fun to do in your spare time. The idea is to enter your name and "looks like" (make sure you do it in parenthesis) into Google, hit the "google search" button and see what pops up.
It's amazing what "Lisa looks like" ...
LISA LOOKS LIKE SHE COULD USE A GOOD TOUNGE LASHING!
What'd I do??
Lisa looks like she's going to look great AND be comfortable
YAY for me!
lisa looks like someone's drunk mom.
Maybe NOT the mom...
Lisa looks like a total brat who's making fun of Acid.
Huh??
Lisa looks like a goddess in her newly-finished Goddess yarns poncho!
Why thank you (taking a curtsy)
Lisa looks like she is going to throw up
Work is hard
Lisa looks like a prostitute
Only on a good day..
Lisa looks like she's been caught shoplifting at Saks.
No, that would be Winona...
Lisa looks like she's having a great time
ALWAYS
Lisa looks like she just won the Lotto.
From the web to the Universe...
Lisa looks like a zombie
Only at work
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
AIRPLANE!
I flew to Phoenix this past Thursday evening. Immediately I was happy as it’s a great flight since its only an hour AND this particular flight happened to be quite empty.
Since I was flying Southwest where you choose your seats, I opted to stay close to the front and in an aisle. A guy in his mid-to-late 40's was occupying the window seat, which was nice since we had room in between us.
He started to tell me that he'd grown up in Long Beach and had surfed every inch of the California coast. At one point in his life, he LIVED in his Jeep and surfed every second that it was possible. On the off days, he would detail cars. He ate beans out of the can for several years. I was fascinated. He did this for NINE years. He then joined AA and has been clean for 11 years. Now he was married, helping to raise his wife's three kids in Arizona, but was frequently flying back to his hometown to check in on a business.
We then started to talk about his mothers death. At this point, he told me I should be a reporter, as he said I was really good at asking pointed questions. I am not sure WHAT I asked to provoke this conversation, but since his earlier stories were helping along my hour flight, I wanted to hear his story.
His mother had been ravaged by cancer. I was expecting some tears or some really heavy story. I mean, he told me he took care of her for several months prior. He then told me he held her while she was dying. But this wasn't that "I wept over her ailing carcass story," but instead he was demonstrating those last few minutes….he said he was holding her up, slightly shaking her and yelling, "YEA MA….GET TO THE LIGHT MA!!!!!….GO TO THE LIGHT!!!!....LEAVE THIS F_ING PLACE AND GOOOOOO!!!! LOOK FOR THE WHITE LIGHT!!!! YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH" He demonstrated this while holding his fists up like he was at a 1960's peace rally. He told me the nurses were running into the room in complete shock while he told them to "GET OUT AND LET HER GO…" He re-dramatized this entire scenario, complete with how he was holding her, his expressions and even the volume he was yelling out.
Yes. This is a true story. He said it was one of the most profound moments of his life…I'll bet. Made me think of how sad we all get. Maybe he has the right idea.
My flight back was a little different. It was a PACKED house. Again, I found an aisle seat close to the front of the plane. I was reading my Rolling Stone (which, by the way, this month's issue with Neil Young on the front is PACKED with great stories).
As the aircraft settled in, one of the flight people got onto the intercom. She welcomed us to our flight and said there was a surprise pilot on the plane. No one was really paying any attention until she mentioned, "you'd know him from movies like "Saturday Night Live" … the plane quieted down whilst we waited to see Mr. Travolta pop his Scientological head thru the door. Instead, another flight person popped thru and said, "Gotchya! Now that we have your attention…let's talk about your seatbelts…"
As I started to ease into the Neil story in my Stone, I heard a little voice singing. The voice was really great and I immediately figured the kid singing was on her way to L.A. for an audition. But as I listened a little more closely, I heard her saying things like, "Jesus is my best friend in the world…Daddy is, too."
As I slowly creaked my head across to see where this was coming from, I nearly fell over in shock. DUDES. It was the REAL Ned Flanders and his family!! I am NOOOOT kidding you. Ned was sitting on the aisle seat. He had his puffy, mullet-like hair, the bushy mustache, the glasses, a powder blue turtleneck and Dockers. On top of that his daughter, the one who'd been singing, was about 10 and wearing an identical outfit as were the two other little boys who must have been the brother spawn. Throughout the flight, they were playing games on their little trays like, "Connect the dots for Jesus," and "Unscramble thy Lord."
I was not being a stalker, but their voices carried and much like a car crash, I could not look away. When out flight folks brought us our drinks, the singing little girl shrieked to the woman behind me (that I figured out was Mama Flanders),."Mommy…don't be jealous but I have … HOT CHOCOLATE.")
At that point, I was dying. I wanted to turn around and see who could have produced the other half of the Flanders clan.
When the flight landed and I went to grab my carry-on, I saw MF. She was draped in a BIG arce denim smock that was stitched through with butterflies and apples and was wearing a cross that looked like it was make of grass (the kind that you mow, not that you smoke.)
SO, all in all, my hour long journeys were quite entertaining, if not a little frightening.
Btw. Phoenix was a lot of fun. I always said I did not like Phoenix, but it was dislike by association (the people I was forced to hang around with made my time VERY dull). This time was pure fun and frolic.
My friend Anne had a co-joined birthday party (her and four other January b-day people) where we took TONS of pics. This one was on our roll. We are STILL figuring out WHO she is, WHERE she came from and HOW she ended up on our film!!!
Since I was flying Southwest where you choose your seats, I opted to stay close to the front and in an aisle. A guy in his mid-to-late 40's was occupying the window seat, which was nice since we had room in between us.
He started to tell me that he'd grown up in Long Beach and had surfed every inch of the California coast. At one point in his life, he LIVED in his Jeep and surfed every second that it was possible. On the off days, he would detail cars. He ate beans out of the can for several years. I was fascinated. He did this for NINE years. He then joined AA and has been clean for 11 years. Now he was married, helping to raise his wife's three kids in Arizona, but was frequently flying back to his hometown to check in on a business.
We then started to talk about his mothers death. At this point, he told me I should be a reporter, as he said I was really good at asking pointed questions. I am not sure WHAT I asked to provoke this conversation, but since his earlier stories were helping along my hour flight, I wanted to hear his story.
His mother had been ravaged by cancer. I was expecting some tears or some really heavy story. I mean, he told me he took care of her for several months prior. He then told me he held her while she was dying. But this wasn't that "I wept over her ailing carcass story," but instead he was demonstrating those last few minutes….he said he was holding her up, slightly shaking her and yelling, "YEA MA….GET TO THE LIGHT MA!!!!!….GO TO THE LIGHT!!!!....LEAVE THIS F_ING PLACE AND GOOOOOO!!!! LOOK FOR THE WHITE LIGHT!!!! YEEEEEAAAAAHHHHH" He demonstrated this while holding his fists up like he was at a 1960's peace rally. He told me the nurses were running into the room in complete shock while he told them to "GET OUT AND LET HER GO…" He re-dramatized this entire scenario, complete with how he was holding her, his expressions and even the volume he was yelling out.
Yes. This is a true story. He said it was one of the most profound moments of his life…I'll bet. Made me think of how sad we all get. Maybe he has the right idea.
My flight back was a little different. It was a PACKED house. Again, I found an aisle seat close to the front of the plane. I was reading my Rolling Stone (which, by the way, this month's issue with Neil Young on the front is PACKED with great stories).
As the aircraft settled in, one of the flight people got onto the intercom. She welcomed us to our flight and said there was a surprise pilot on the plane. No one was really paying any attention until she mentioned, "you'd know him from movies like "Saturday Night Live" … the plane quieted down whilst we waited to see Mr. Travolta pop his Scientological head thru the door. Instead, another flight person popped thru and said, "Gotchya! Now that we have your attention…let's talk about your seatbelts…"
As I started to ease into the Neil story in my Stone, I heard a little voice singing. The voice was really great and I immediately figured the kid singing was on her way to L.A. for an audition. But as I listened a little more closely, I heard her saying things like, "Jesus is my best friend in the world…Daddy is, too."
As I slowly creaked my head across to see where this was coming from, I nearly fell over in shock. DUDES. It was the REAL Ned Flanders and his family!! I am NOOOOT kidding you. Ned was sitting on the aisle seat. He had his puffy, mullet-like hair, the bushy mustache, the glasses, a powder blue turtleneck and Dockers. On top of that his daughter, the one who'd been singing, was about 10 and wearing an identical outfit as were the two other little boys who must have been the brother spawn. Throughout the flight, they were playing games on their little trays like, "Connect the dots for Jesus," and "Unscramble thy Lord."
I was not being a stalker, but their voices carried and much like a car crash, I could not look away. When out flight folks brought us our drinks, the singing little girl shrieked to the woman behind me (that I figured out was Mama Flanders),."Mommy…don't be jealous but I have … HOT CHOCOLATE.")
At that point, I was dying. I wanted to turn around and see who could have produced the other half of the Flanders clan.
When the flight landed and I went to grab my carry-on, I saw MF. She was draped in a BIG arce denim smock that was stitched through with butterflies and apples and was wearing a cross that looked like it was make of grass (the kind that you mow, not that you smoke.)
SO, all in all, my hour long journeys were quite entertaining, if not a little frightening.
Btw. Phoenix was a lot of fun. I always said I did not like Phoenix, but it was dislike by association (the people I was forced to hang around with made my time VERY dull). This time was pure fun and frolic.
My friend Anne had a co-joined birthday party (her and four other January b-day people) where we took TONS of pics. This one was on our roll. We are STILL figuring out WHO she is, WHERE she came from and HOW she ended up on our film!!!
Tuesday, January 10, 2006
Seriously...
Scenario:
Afternoon meeting to go over some new software.
Our wonderful computer guy comes to give our group a "quick" lesson in some very ez-to-use software. I use the word "quick" because I am being sarcastic and am bitter.
Our office is divided up by the "I care", "I kind of care", the "I don't f-ing care" and the "who are you people and where am I??"...and then there is the group who ask questions. Dozens of questions. Zillions and gazillions of meaningless, no point, "I am speaking to hear my own voice" and "I LOVE my voice" questions.
May I mention I used this software, all by my lonesome with no instructions two months ago? T was with me and let me say, as a non-computer savvy person, it was simple. The meeting COULD have been that simple. The five page packet that had lots of pictures made it kindergarten-easy, but NO-OH. The meeting that should have been 10 minutes lasted a whopping 45 minutes. Five minutes of our guys nice and friendly spiel and the other 40 spent listening to a myriad of "stick needles in my eye" stories.
But there were cookies. Two trays. YUM.
P.S. My boss took a slew of the cookies home. That's a story for another day...
Afternoon meeting to go over some new software.
Our wonderful computer guy comes to give our group a "quick" lesson in some very ez-to-use software. I use the word "quick" because I am being sarcastic and am bitter.
Our office is divided up by the "I care", "I kind of care", the "I don't f-ing care" and the "who are you people and where am I??"...and then there is the group who ask questions. Dozens of questions. Zillions and gazillions of meaningless, no point, "I am speaking to hear my own voice" and "I LOVE my voice" questions.
May I mention I used this software, all by my lonesome with no instructions two months ago? T was with me and let me say, as a non-computer savvy person, it was simple. The meeting COULD have been that simple. The five page packet that had lots of pictures made it kindergarten-easy, but NO-OH. The meeting that should have been 10 minutes lasted a whopping 45 minutes. Five minutes of our guys nice and friendly spiel and the other 40 spent listening to a myriad of "stick needles in my eye" stories.
But there were cookies. Two trays. YUM.
P.S. My boss took a slew of the cookies home. That's a story for another day...
Friday, January 06, 2006
I gots me the jitters...
That would be the coffee jitters...
T, my darling office friend that sits just a kick under the desk away and I have been consuming lethal amounts of coffee all afternoon. What started out as a pleasant stroll together to the kitchen at around 9 a.m. has now brought us to 5-ish p.m...and after watching a few hours (alright..I am exaggerating) minutes of some REALLY bad Internet shows, we are now fizzling out. At our height of the coffee high, I was suddenly brought back to the movie, "Requiem for a Dream," minus the hard drugs, mood music and gut-wrenching end.
Btw. I watched a few minutes of "Dancing with the Stars" last night. I make fun of George Hamilton quite a bit for NO good reason, but last night, I fell in love with the senior-esque, over-tanned charmer. He is SOOO debonair and was smiling like a Cheshire cat the entire time, which immediately made me want to vote for him. He's got old-school swoon going on.
I missed everyone else.
T, my darling office friend that sits just a kick under the desk away and I have been consuming lethal amounts of coffee all afternoon. What started out as a pleasant stroll together to the kitchen at around 9 a.m. has now brought us to 5-ish p.m...and after watching a few hours (alright..I am exaggerating) minutes of some REALLY bad Internet shows, we are now fizzling out. At our height of the coffee high, I was suddenly brought back to the movie, "Requiem for a Dream," minus the hard drugs, mood music and gut-wrenching end.
Btw. I watched a few minutes of "Dancing with the Stars" last night. I make fun of George Hamilton quite a bit for NO good reason, but last night, I fell in love with the senior-esque, over-tanned charmer. He is SOOO debonair and was smiling like a Cheshire cat the entire time, which immediately made me want to vote for him. He's got old-school swoon going on.
I missed everyone else.
Tuesday, January 03, 2006
The Bitter Sweet...
Thank goodness. It's over. The cornucopia of crazy holiday fun is D-O-N-E for another year.
Truthfully, this was one of the best years, without a doubt. Lots of festivity, lots of joyous moments and really, time off that made me realize more and more how positively wonderful it would be to have a lot of self-made money to play with while living high on the hog. Sigh. It happens all the time, so maybe that should be on the "to do" list this year, right??
What seems to be the common theme EVERYWHERE is change. Whether this means a new do', a new look, a new way of thinking or putting a kibosh on something bad, there seems to be a rejuvenation happening to everyone, moreso than I have noticed in years...or am I just getting old??
As far as resolutions...rather than the usual, "lose 15 pounds, run a marathon, do this or that.." I am opting for a more practical, yet crafty approach...taking what is there and making it better.
Let's face it. We all want, but this past season made me really focus on what I have and peeps, I have A LOT. I am rich beyond my wildest dreams. My apartment is safe, cute and comfortable, I have peace of mind, a cat that now has CLEAN teeth (!!), MORE comfy stuff ("things") than most people could imagine and most importantly, I have some of the most fabulous people around me, whether here or far away...everything else that needs to happen is out there, it just needs to be tweaked, churned, coddled, tapped into...you get my point.
Anyway, Happy New Year and may you find what you need...
Truthfully, this was one of the best years, without a doubt. Lots of festivity, lots of joyous moments and really, time off that made me realize more and more how positively wonderful it would be to have a lot of self-made money to play with while living high on the hog. Sigh. It happens all the time, so maybe that should be on the "to do" list this year, right??
What seems to be the common theme EVERYWHERE is change. Whether this means a new do', a new look, a new way of thinking or putting a kibosh on something bad, there seems to be a rejuvenation happening to everyone, moreso than I have noticed in years...or am I just getting old??
As far as resolutions...rather than the usual, "lose 15 pounds, run a marathon, do this or that.." I am opting for a more practical, yet crafty approach...taking what is there and making it better.
Let's face it. We all want, but this past season made me really focus on what I have and peeps, I have A LOT. I am rich beyond my wildest dreams. My apartment is safe, cute and comfortable, I have peace of mind, a cat that now has CLEAN teeth (!!), MORE comfy stuff ("things") than most people could imagine and most importantly, I have some of the most fabulous people around me, whether here or far away...everything else that needs to happen is out there, it just needs to be tweaked, churned, coddled, tapped into...you get my point.
Anyway, Happy New Year and may you find what you need...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)