Kate (left) and Me
Friday, December 30, 2005
Thursday, December 29, 2005
I am feeling much better today. It's amazing what a good night's sleep can do for your disposition. I curled my hair today and played with it a little only to put on an old T-shirt and overalls. I feel comfortable and that makes me happy. Which brings me to the subject line...I am never going to be the kind of girl who dresses up, puts on make up, does her hair and all that girly girl stuff every day. I'm girly inside. I bake. I knit, crochet, cross stitch. I can sew but haven't in years. I can cook, but don't do so for myself. I love a good clean kitchen. I actually enjoy scrubbing my bathroom. Basically, despite what she may believe, Joanie did a good job preparing her daughters to be good wives. Too bad only one of them actually succeeded.
I will dress up next Tuesday, possibly in one of the three skirts I own, wear heels and put on make up just to prove to Tina and the girls that I can. But at the end of the day, I'm a jeans kind of gal and always will be. I love the girly looks, the pretty skirts, the fun shoes, the hair, the makeup. I love Sephora. I subscribe to Lucky magazine just to see all the fun styles, the handbags, the shoes. I always say to myself, "If I were thinner, I'd wear those kinds of clothes". But the truth of the matter is, I was thinner and guess what I didn't wear.
Did I mention shoes? I have six pairs of sneakers and two, count them, two pairs of dress shoes. I have sandals (even a pair of strappy ones) but I never wear them. And clogs. Am I alone in my love of clogs? If I didn't think I'd be laughed into a cave of shame, I'd wear my clogs all the time. I want a pair of the kind the doctors wear, but they cost, like, my whole paycheck.
I've tried to be girly. Lord, how I have tried. In the 80's, I bought a mini skirt, owned several neon accessories and cut sweatshirts to achieve the Flashdance look. But it wasn't me.
I used to work in an office that required me to dress in business attire, and while I got used to it, I never quite enjoyed it. And then there's my hair. I've permed, I've layered, I've had bangs, and one time in six grade, very short (I looked awful) boy cut. Every time I try new hairstyles, I let them grow out to my tried and true long and straight (or wavy) hair. But really, what's wrong with my hair? It's in good condition. It's versatile. It comforts me. So what if my junior year school picture looks eerily like my Kindergarten photo.
I will wear my jeans and Converse high tops into old age. I'll be that quirky old lady you see in the grocery store with long white hair, jeans, Ramones T-Shirt and red Chucks. And I will be happy and comfortable. Amen.
Wednesday, December 28, 2005
I keep thinking of the things I need to do and the list just gets longer and longer. It's so long now, it's daunting. (dirty) I've never been the "break it down so it doesn't seem so bad" kind of gal, so I'm just looking at my work and feeling tired. I should be home. I have English to study. I have to practice on my machine so I can pass my speed test (that's Court Reporter jargon for you non-Bryan people), I should be finishing Audra's scarf so she doesn't think I forgot her again. I should be curled up under the covers with the blinds drawn tightly dreaming while the house elves clean my apartment, do my laundry and fix that leak in the bathroom sink.
My apologies to the Lauries of the world. I'm happy to share the name. Honest and truly. Feel the love! Lauries are so much cooler--Laurie Partridge, for example. Laurie Anderson. Me.
http://svt.se/hogafflahage/hogafflaHage_site/Kor/hestekor.swf (click on each horse to hear it sing; click it again to turn it off. Have fun)
Tuesday, December 27, 2005
Laurie, it seems, is more popular on the West Coast. In fact, Lori is the rarity out here. And I know two, count them, two girls with the exact same first, middle, and last name as me! Oh, the indignity of it all. How I wish I were Tami with an I or Joann, one word with no e.
I'm just plain old me...Laurie.
Monday, December 26, 2005
The parking lot of Ralphs wasn't any better. It was as if all conventional rules of driving had gone out the window. Cars were driving in every direction like Queens on a chessboard. I managed to navigate the fray and parked on the street.
Outside the store was a gauntlet of homeless people with signs all asking for money. I'd never seen this many people panhandling in one spot--not at bus stop, not at the Promenade, never. It was unsettling and again I wondered if I'd missed some important news bulletin. (I'd been watching Charmed, season three, all day). Inside the store, lost souls wandered aimlessly, with the occasional harried husband who'd been sent out for wine, or whipped cream that had somehow been forgotten on the pre-Christmas shopping trip. I mulled over a good bottle of wine, settling on the cheap "on sale" wine instead. (a choice I regret) Picked up the milk, a chocolate eclair, Nestle's ready-to-bake Chocolate Chip cookies, and Funyuns. I think I need an intervention.
I rushed out of the store, hurried home and lock the door tightly, just in case the Zombies could smell my fear and decided to come after me. Oh Crap! I have windows on my front door. I'm screwed!.....aaaaaaaaaaaaeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaa
One bottle of wine later and it was "zombie, schmombie".
ps...C.H.U.D.--that's what they were--Cannibalistic Humanoid Underground Dwellers.
Friday, December 23, 2005
Lunch today with the boss. First, there was lipstick on our glasses. Then, about four pieces of bread in the basket. No beverages until I asked. And then, when I asked them to wrap the leftovers to go, they threw them away. Fortunately, this is a pretty nice place so the chef made me a little portion of my pasta to take with me. That was nice.
Note to self: Don't stop at Ralphs before you eat breakfast.
Did I mention I'm bored? I've had about two hours of sleep because I was out late showing a friend my car and he couldn't get out of work until 3:30ish, so I'm also pretty sleepy. Speaking of said friend....he peed with the bathroom door open. I'm just a little taken aback by this because he's a fairly private person, not prone to showing the goods or anything, and certainly never in the many years we've been acquainted has he ever gone pee and left the bathroom door open. We weren't in mid-conversation, which would have been understandable. There was no other sound to drown out the obvious sound of a man peeing. And he didn't seem even slightly fazed by the fact that he did this. I wanted to say something but it was late, he was annoyed and we've been getting along really well lately. At least he washed his hands.
Thursday, December 22, 2005
I'm looking at my Year To Date gross and thinking, "there is no way in hell I made that much money this past year. Where did it all go?" I have 11 hours of sick time left. (cough cough) I'm feeling mighty poorly. (cough) Perhaps I should stay home tomorrow.
Speaking of tomorrow, our corporate office has a half day and they're closed Monday. I mentioned to my boss, since I'm getting hosed on my paid holiday (Christmas is on Sunday), maybe I could take Monday off? Mr. I'm-on-salary-and-have-no-sympathy-for-you-hourly-people said, "well, I wouldn't say your getting hosed. You don't have to work Christmas do you?" No, but regardless of what day Christmas was, I wouldn't be working it. However, if it were on a week day, I'd be getting paid not to work it. Sheesh! Guess I'll be here on Monday. Crap!
Tuesday, December 20, 2005
On my last day of bus riding, I stumbled (literally) over these shoes just sitting there on a sidewalk along Sunset Blvd as if the wearers had just lost them in midstride. As a big fan of the "sneakers on the powerline" mystery, I had to wonder who loses a shoe, a boot even, and doesn't go back to pick it up? Perhaps they were on the run, or up to no-good somehow and didn't want to attract attention. I remember walking through Stroud Mall one day wearing underpants that had lost their elastic and were slowly but surely slipping down my thighs. I kept praying that they'd stay above the knee and not slip below the hem of my skirt, because my hands were full and I couldn't stop to pull them up without attracting attention. I thought to myself, "if they fall off, just step out and keep on walking" because how much more embarrassing would it be to stop, put down the things I was carrying and pick up my pantaloons. Luckily, I made it to my office at the movie theater where I could tactfully pull up my britches and secure them with a pin. No, I was not wearing hose.
The circles mark the shoes.
Sunday, December 18, 2005
Don't you just love the Sound of Music? I don't care if it's wholesome and cheesy and I've seen it a million times (okay, about 30 times) but I love that movie. I love when the Captain gets all choked up singing "Adelweiss" and Maria jumps in to help him. I love when the nuns vandalize the Nazis' cars so they can't follow the Von Trapps. I love "My Favorite Things". I love to hate the conniving Baronness. Oh, The Hills are alive....
Drunken Ho acosted me at the bus stop today. I'm standing there minding my own beeswax waiting for the trusty Westwood 2, when I hear this whisky-soaked voice behind me say "would ya look at that. My zipper is down. I had no f*&$ing idea. LOOK!". I turned to look, don't ask, and sure enough, her zipper is down. So I said to her, "are you gonna take care of that?" and, I swear, Tina, if you're reading this, I am not making it up, she looked at me and said "BAH!" then walked away and as far as I can tell, never pulled up her zipper.
Tomorrow, potentially Blog-title-changing events are afoot. Stay tuned...
OH--PS: Pete the Dead Potato Bug is decomposing. Actually, he's drying and shriveling, but it's just as gross as decomposing (as if he wasn't horrific enough). It's the gift that keeps on giving. Please, for the love of all that is sacred and holy, someone get rid of that bug.
Friday, December 16, 2005
To all who are concerned, Tami was released from the hospital today and should be on her way to Pennsylvania by 6:30 tomorrow. Yippee! We still don't know what's ailing her, but they'll figure that out in January.
Oh, and to the doughboy who sat his ass on the stool as Sofia and I tried to navigate our way out of the Santa Monica Pier parking lot...How about a little less lip, Waldo. We DID follow the &$% signs and we STILL ended up back at your booth, so how about a little more help instead of your flippant "uh, follow the signs?" commentary when the nice sober ladies ask you for directions. Obviously your signs suck.
Thursday, December 15, 2005
But we love Joyce and we especially love The Palm, with its Filet Mignon the size of a Dodge Ram, its creamed spinach and whipped taters served family style, its old Hollywood charm and characatures on the walls, and the fantabulous dessert tray (Jamaica be damned). But alas, Joyce is retiring so this was most likely our last Palm lunch. Bye Bye clandestined celebrity sightings. Bye bye steak that costs more than my electric bill. Bye bye Creme Brulee. I will sure miss these lunches....and Joyce. I'll miss her too.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
But my friend Tami is still really sickand in the hospital. Well, I actually don't know if she's really sick, but she's in pain. Lots of pain. And she's doped up on the morphine and something really strong that I can't spell or pronounce. I feel so helpless because I can't do anything for her and she can't do anything either. Her cell phone needs charging, but her charger is at home in Pasadena. If she would just get over her fear and let me drive to Pasadena, her problems would be solved.
Sigh. I have to go now. School beckons and I want to visit Tami before I go.
Thursday, December 08, 2005
What is his secret? Oh, you think I'm gonna tell you so you don't have to shell out your hard-earned cash? Hells, no.
Okay, I'm a pushover. His secret is that he adds natural citrus extracts to each bottle of Joy.
oooo, don't let that leak out to the press.
By the way, there is a dead potato bug in the basement. The boys have erected a shrine to it, with a candle and a rose. It is the ugliest damn bug ever. Seriously, bring on the roaches. They are downright cute next to "Pete" as the boys have named him. Don't believe me? http://www.whatsthatbug.com/potato.html
Tuesday, December 06, 2005
State of Confusion: How the hell am I going to schedule 15 two-day inventories in 30 days, leaving at least four days freight time for scanners to ship to Las Vegas, and not schedule big stores on new release days or the week that the national sales changeover.
Condition of Agitation: After playing hooky and having dinner with my fellow delinquent classmates, I couldn't sleep. I was agitated. Why are men jerks? Okay, not all men, but there are sure a lot of jerks out there. And why do we lovely, vibrant women compromise ourselves for these jerks. I'm just as guilty as the next gal. I put up with bullshit from a man (or two) who put me down, made me feel like I was the problem, I wasn't worthy, I should be grateful he even deigned to look in my direction in the first place. But then after all is said and done, I realized it wasn't me at all, it was HIM. HE was an idiot who had low self-esteem, couldn't stand that I was smarter than him, couldn't grow up long enough to realize that there is more to a relationship than partying and I'm much better off without his crap! YA YA!
To all my sisters out there, straighten that backbone, hold your head high, walk out the door and know that YOU ARE WORTH SO MUCH MORE THAN HE'S WILLING TO GIVE. And we all love you, so come cry on our shoulders when it gets rough. Next time we'll pick a place that serves adult beverages, though.
State of Commotion: Oh My God. Who slept with whom? Who doesn't get along because of some perceived slight five years ago? I thought we were having a Christmas party, not planning the seating arrangement for the Oscar party. Jeepers Creepers, people. Get over it.
I'm cranky. Can you tell?
Saturday, December 03, 2005
So, big things are a brewing in my little mind, folks. I don't want to say much for fear of jinxing things but I've got plans. Big plans. You'll see. I also have misgivings. Big misgivings.
They say you should never make any big decisions or get a hair cut while you're (avert your eyes, sensitive male readers) having your period. Well, most of my biggest decisions and best haircuts have happened during that time of the month, so phooey on that. I'm making decisions and, well, not getting a haircut, but decsions, boy howdy!
Misgivings? Well, you see, for all the whining I did about Mr. Man a few posts ago, I'm a bit of a Procratination Jones. For instance, I should have done laundry today, but you know, I just didn't feel like dragging my clothes four blocks to the laundromat and sitting there for two hours. I haven't felt like doing that for so long that I'm down to the clothes that I normally reserve for going to the laundromat only purposes. You get the picture. I have a history of falling short of the mark and, well, I'm a little worried I'll do the same this time around.
But I'm older now, and allegedly wiser. I feel like I can break the habit and succeed this time. I'm going for it. I can do it.
"Do what?", you ask. Stay tuned.
Friday, December 02, 2005
What did Confused give to the Birthday girl?