Something fishy about lunch

Criss wanted to go to the Korean restaurant down the street for lunch. The boys took her there once before and it was delicious. We ordered marinated beef and chicken. So, why did our plates come with this?
Now, I'm not necessarily a picky eater, but I draw the line on heads, especially those that look like they died screaming. Criss was super excited about her fish.Then, the strangest thing happened. My fish saw Criss's fish and fell in love. I don't think she felt the same about him. Like my last boyfriend, he's all mouth...and not in a good way.

Ms. Magoo

I need new glasses. "Glasses?" you say. Yeah, you know, the ones I never wear because I hate the frames. I've actually been wearing them a lot lately because, well, I can't see. It's funny how glasses help out in those situations. But I hate the frames because if I'm doing something on the computer and I have to look down I'm looking under the lenses unless I move my whole head and I end up feeling like a bobblehead. And, they mess with my peripheral vision.

This morning, I had a killer sinus headache and my face was swollen, so I was not feeling the love for the glasses. Then I mistook a picture of Mario (of Super Mario Bros. fame) as a picture of a child hugging a pig. I put the glasses on. It still doesn't look like Mario to me. Yep, I need new glasses.

What kind of frames should I get? Here's the old ones for your consideration. For the record, I HATE picking frames. I suck at it. I think doctor or his assistant suggested the ones I have.

Yes, I look stoned. It's the sinus medication kicking in. And my nose is enormous in this photo. Damn. And the bean behind my head looks like the Arrowhead commercial.

Transcription is fun; or Things Laurie Ann does that will surely get her fired.

There's a big meeting tomorrow and I'm in hell. It's a hell of my own doing, though, so I really have no right to complain...but I will. See, I forgot to transcribe the minutes from a meeting which I did not attend but for which I have a recording of the proceedings. [zzzzz--I've lost you already?]

The boss told me "Oh, what about the Blahdity Blah Committee minutes?" about 45 minutes ago. (Crap) Sure, I'll include them too. (Crap) Just as soon as I actually listen to the recording and try to make sense of it. (Crap, Crap, Super Crap) And cover for the receptionist because the other person qualified to cover the position went to lunch late and can't do it. (#%&*$^ Crap)

BALLS!! I'm gonna need more coffee to deal with this.

On the plus side*, my hair apparently looks like I got laid, or so everyone has told me today, and my new company ID photo looks good.

*You're saying to yourself "that's a plus?" Sure. Keeps everyone guessing, since, you know, it's just me and the gnomes at home.

Best Spam Ever...or maybe it's just me.

Back when Michael Jackson's Thriller was released, or more specifically, when the single "Billie Jean" was released, David Letterman did this bit about not understanding the lyrics and thinking it said "the chair is not my son." To prove it, they played the song and this deep announcer's voice would say "Chair" instead of "kid." It was like this:

Billie Jean Is Not My Lover
She's Just A Girl Who Claims That I Am The One
But The CHAIR Is Not My Son
She Says I Am The One, But The CHAIR Is Not My Son

Here is the spam email I received. Mind you, we have no woodcraft, nor are we in the retail business.

MY NAME IS BRET BORTH.I AM A PASTOR.I WILL LIKE TO BUY SOME OF YOUR woodcraft.I WILL LIKE TO ORDER SOME OF YOUR woodcraft AND SHIP IT TO AN ORPHANAGE HOME TO GHANA .I WANT TO KNOW THE SIZES,TYPES AND AMOUNT FOR EACH woodcraft.I WILL LIKE TO KNOW THE TYPE OF PAYMENT YOU ACCEPT.I WILL BE WAITING FOR YOUR REPLY.

Keep waiting, Bret.

"But the woodcraft is not my son..."

OMG, Look at my bean!

You have to read the post title with a Southern accent, which I channeled a few weeks ago with Criss (who's from Atlanta and comes by it naturally) and can't seem to shake. Seriously, it's getting ridiculous how it keeps popping up in conversation. But anyway, look at my bean!
It's huge!! You can't tell in this picture. I'll have to put something next to it in the next photo for reference. Every person who walks by my office hears "Hey_____, Come look at my bean." People are avoiding my office, which is next to impossible because one must pass me to get to HR, Finance, and the CEO's office.

Are Nachos an acceptable Easter Meal?

So, I have a miniature rock garden at work. Some call it a Zen Garden, but I've been told that that is incorrect. I inherited this particular garden from the previous Executive Assistant. I should have seen it as a sign. Anyway, the garden as it were consists of sand, three rocks, and a plastic Buddha that I added when I took over its care. I rake it, arrange the rocks and Buddha, and inevitably someone comes into my office to talk to me and ends up playing in the sand. I say nothing, but inside I'm shouting, "leave it alone. I just did that." Friday, I noticed a rock missing. Who stole the rock? If the cleaning folks accidentally knocked it off the window sill, there would be no sand left. I can only conclude that someone took the rock deliberately. But why? If these gardens are meant to calm the mind, is it counterproductive that I'm really irked about this?While I'm rambling, I want to give a round of applause to the road crew that paved Olympic Blvd seemingly overnight. And not just a patch of road, but a whole stretched from Union to at least Hoover. Good job!! I assume this means we won't be going to One Way anytime soon.

Part of my job includes ordering logo swag, like pens, rulers, mugs, etc. I receive a lot of samples from various companies, usually pens. Occasionally, though, I get something totally cool. Last week, I got a bean. A bean? Yes, a bean. It was branded with their company logo, and promised to keep that logo as the bean grew. It came with its own jar and grow medium. How cool is this?
I totally want to order these but I don't think everyone else will be as excited about growing a bean as I was. I am so proud of my bean.

Hope your Easter was swell. My Nachos Bell Grande dinner was as good as any traditional ham feast (or so I'm convincing myself).

Good Friday, followed by Alright Saturday

Really, what is so good about Good Friday? Considering it's the day Jesus died, I don't think HE would find it particularly good. Speaking of J and what he would think or do, I ate meat today. (gasp) My friend commented on it saying "you can't do it (eat fish) for Jesus? He'd do it for you." I'm sure he would, but I'm okay with that. I don't think Jesus would begrudge me a ham sandwich on a Friday, Good or otherwise. He's cool that way. And how does abstaining from meat on a Friday solidify your religious conviction? I never got a good explanation in 12 years of Catholic education.

I just want to give a shout out to Faith for the awesome gift package. I won a contest on her blog some time back and, quite frankly, had forgotten about my prize. Oops. I got a swell book, a tiny knitting kit, a non-smelly candle, a dog (toy), and lots of chocolate. Then, as if that wasn't enough, I found the cutest little buttons and a sticker in the basket as well. Woo Hoo! All of this came in a bitchin' tote bag, too. That Faith--she's pretty darn swell herself.

Thanks to Terry, whose birthday is this weekend, for giving ME a present (which shall go unnamed). Have fun in Sandy Eggo.

To everyone else--Happy Easter.

ps. Did I actually say "bitchin"? I'm not right in the head.

Dark Matters (or One Last Night with The Boys)

Last night, I met up with Niko and company, and Aunt Louise, at the Griffith Observatory. Earlier in the day, the guys had scaled the canyons and got thisclose to the Hollywood sign, despite being warned several times about the danger of being tossed in the pokey. But really, what's the point of being 20 years old if not to ignore "No Trespassing" signs?
It was nippy last night as we sat on the observation deck eating overpriced cafeteria food (Thanks, Wolfgang), and the boys were wearing flip flops. How cute and Californian of them. We heard the coyotes yipping and yapping, which was kind of cool, except that I know it means the end of the road for some unsuspecting creature. We talked about the scene in "Collateral" with the coyote and I told them about the time Randy and I were leaving poker night and a coyote sauntered past us down Spaulding Avenue, far from the hills. It was also pretty clear last night, and dang if LA doesn't look pretty from way up there.

Dorks that we are, we stood for what felt like forever (but was only about five or ten minutes) watching the Foucault pendulum swing and waiting for it to hit a magnet, proving that indeed, the earth is rotating. Hooray! A very nice young docent named Jarod took a lot of time explaining the whole pendulum thing and even calculating the longitude and latitude for Chicago for the boys. When the needle finally knocked over a magnet, Joe, Pat and I clapped. The other observers were not nearly as excited.

The Planetarium show was pretty awesome, even if the narrator had cheesy radio announcer voice. I love me some astronomy. It reminded me of the night Dean Haag and I lay in the middle of the road leading up to Notre Dame High School (those of you from East Bumbleburg, Pennsyltucky know where I mean) and found most of the zodiac constellations. That Dean was pretty smart, all things considered. I got a little woozy during the show, but in a good way. Some lady in the row behind us was snoring, which was also entertaining.

Then, sadly, I hugged my not-so-little-anymore nephew goodbye. Someday, he'll have to come for a solo visit and I'll show him the real sites. Sorry, no pictures from last night. I forgot my camera, but trust me, the boys were still handsome and I, naturally, was breathtaking.

Great Weekend and a bundle of Handsomeness

On Saturday, I got a much needed haircut and color, and splurged on a mani/pedi because it's Spring and these feet were a mess. The hair cost a lot more than I bargained for, but it had to be done. I was frightening small children. The nails, well, that wasn't in the budget at all.

Today, Sunday, I got a call from my nephew Niko (my sister's only son) saying he and his friends were brunching at the 101 Cafe and I should join them. Niko & company are in town on Spring Break from various higher learning facilities in Illinois. Joe has an aunt in Hollywood too (Aunt Louise--she's British) and the guys are staying with her. After brunch, I stole Niko for a bit and we met up with the others in Venice on the boardwalk. Louise had to attend a funeral, so I was left to entertain--or rather, be entertained by--the four boys, er, young men....oh, Niko, Joe, Pat and Steve. I was already familiar with Joe via his YouTube celebrity status and my sister's many tales of "Joe is so funny," and Pat, also via YouTube, but this was my first meeting with Steve. I kind of adore him. The four of them are handsome devils and kept me laughing all day. Here, see for yourself:

L to R: Niko, Joe, Steve and Pat

I wish I had taken as many photos as they did to document the antics but I'll have them in my mind--especially Steve and Pat hula hooping, climbing a tree at The Rose Cafe, Pat scaling a palm tree, and the many GQ poses I shot shortly after this one was taken (sadly, on another camera). We went to Third Street Promenade too, but there was nothing really happening except a monkey stealing money and a sad, scary clown. (again, I didn't photograph these)
I'll leave you with a gratuitous shot of me and the nephew again, because seriously, is he not the dreamiest? He's single, ladies, and very nearly drinking age.also, it was REALLY windy. My hair was a mess. And I may have fallen on the boardwalk and messed up my knee but the boys were kind and didn't laugh at me. (I would have)

I lost a day

It's been a weird week. I've been tired, but not sleepy. Not hungry at all until yesterday. In a great mood but also not so happy. Nervous about something impending but not knowing what it is. Worried about two friends in two very different but equally serious situations. and you know, generally out of it. To the casual observer, it would appear I have a drug problem. You all know better, of course. The horoscope has been no use. I didn't see any "mercury in retrograde" or anything like that to indicate what's what. But Wednesday night when I got home from work at 7pm, I flopped on my bed midway between work clothes and sweats and promptly fell fast asleep. I woke up at 7:40am Thursday and couldn't see straight. For most of the day, I swore it was still Wednesday. I couldn't grasp that I had slept 12 hours straight. I feel like I lost Wednesday. Consequently, Thursday never felt like Thursday--until I turned on the TV for the first time in a week and saw LOST was on.

Dang.

Coordination is not my friend

Sergio is teaching me how to juggle. However, he first must teach me to throw and catch with my left hand. This could take a while. I'll get back to you.

Criss Chase is Awesome!

Why, you ask? For reasons too numerous to list here, including but not limited to, the 5 minute diatribe about Bank of America she left on my voicemail which ended with "my picture looks good on my license. I'll talk to you later," and this:Spanking a stranger because it was his birthday.

I think my favorite part is that he assumed the position without being asked. I'm still laughing about Friday night.

Spring Fever

Yesterday, despite my gastronomical misadventures, I was in a great mood. It was almost like being in love. I couldn't get over it. I was happy as a clam all damn day for no apparent reason other than I just was. Genuinely happy and friendly and considerate and all those things that I would love to be everyday if shit didn't get in my way. I wanted to sit at the beach. I wanted to sing in the sun. I wanted to learn how to play the guitar.

Instead, I spread my sunshine all over the office and went to the shoe store to exchange my super awesome new Converse that were the wrong size ('cause I'm a dumbass). Unfortunately, the store no longer had the super awesome style in my size, so I went with...

And you know what? I'm walking on sunshine still today. It's a gorgeous LA day, I had fruta for breakfast, I woke up to one of my favorite songs playing in my head, and how can you not have a great day with pink Chucks. Impossible.

*yes, my feet are huge. Keeps me stable.

Somebody stop me

I ate lunch at the deli downstairs again today. I ate there yesterday. I haven't eaten there in several weeks because I was broke and she raised her prices so even the french fries are out of my price range. Anyway, I got paid on Friday and Max the German Car King didn't soak me on the repairs so I have been eating lunch again.

Stop me. Please. I beg of you.

Yesterday, I ate lunch around 2:30 (I know, but it's the only time I can go after covering meetings and the receptionist's lunch). By 3:30, I felt queasy and wanted to barf. and yet...

I ate there again today. Today, I didn't even leave the table before my tummy told me to rid myself of the foulness I had just eaten. I haven't yet, but I feel it's a matter of time.

So, if you see me heading toward the deli around 2:00ish, stop me, tackle me and tie me to my desk if you have to, but please do not let me eat there again.

Thanks.

Oh, WikiHow you make me giggle

Does anyone really need these instructions?

How to Properly Dunk an Oreo Cookie

Have you ever tried dunking an Oreo, and found that your cookie always breaks? Don't worry, you're not alone. Here's the proper way.

Steps
Obtain a box of Oreo cookies from the local grocery store. Make sure they are the original cookies and not the new vanilla Oreos. While at the store, pick up a gallon or half gallon of milk. (2 L - 4 L) If you think you are going to spill much of the milk, go with the gallon (4 L), but if you are a neat and tidy eater, go with the half gallon (2 L).
Once you have safely arrived at home, place the Oreo cookies on the table. Grab a tall glass from the cupboard and fill the glass with milk to about a half an inch (12.7 mm) from the top. This is the optimal height for dunking the cookie.
After the milk has been poured, open the box of cookies. Pick one cookie up gently so as not to break or chip it. Raise the cookie until it is positioned approximately 1.5 inches (38.1 mm) from the rim of the glass.
Lower the cookie gently into the milk until about half the cookie is submerged. If you submerge the whole cookie at once, air will become trapped inside the cookie and will not allow the milk to soak in.
Be patient! Do not swirl the cookie around or move it around in the milk. You could risk breaking the cookie and losing it forever in the depths of your glass of milk. After exactly 6 seconds have elapsed, slowly remove the cookie from the milk.
Once the cookie has been removed from the milk, gingerly raise the cookie to your mouth, careful not to break the soggy cookie in half. Place the cookie on your tongue, chew, and enjoy!!

Tips
Make sure the Oreo cookies are fresh. Using a stale cookie will greatly affect the dunking mechanics and will taste terrible.
Give it time--If your cookie breaks on the first try, move on to the next one in the box. There are plenty to practice with.
Make sure each motion with the cookie is done gently as not to disturb the cream center or break the chocolate sandwich.
If you drop part(or all) of the Oreo in the glass of milk, use a spoon to scoop it out, this is fairly difficult since you can't see the cookie.
Some people like to lick the cream off first and dunk just the chocolate cookies in the milk.

Warnings
Be patient when dunking or you risk breaking your cookie. A hasty dipper never prospers!
Brush your teeth soon after -- your teeth will have plenty of black cookie on them (particularly if you wear braces).

Things You'll Need
Oreos
Milk
Patience
a tall glass

Like a Springsteen song

My neighbor Lori had a party last night. ALL night. No biggie, I can sleep through pretty much anything and I was listening to music through headphones anyway. However, rather than walk up the stairs to her front door, guests (mostly men) stood on the sidewalk out front calling her name, which is pretty much my name but for the spelling and the correct pronunciation which few use. (Except Shirley Jones on The Partridge Family. I think I loved that show because she always said Laurie's name the way it was intended--and I was young and David Cassidy was cute.)

Anyway, in my half-awake state I kept hearing, "Lori. Loooorrrriiii." At first it was creepy, like the gnomes had found their way out of that door in the back of my closet and were coming to take over my apartment. But then, the calls became both plaintive and lovesick and it reminded me of the words from Thunder Road (wait...or was it Jungle Land...let me see..yes, Thunder Road) "They scream your name at night in the streets....but when you get to the porch they're gone..." because when I rolled over and looked out the window to see why these men didn't just climb the stairs, they were gone.

I think I imagined half of it because I was really tired from waiting two hours for AAA to send a tow truck, making chit chat with said tow truck driver on our way to Van Nuys, talking to Max about what is up with my car and will replacing the used Ignition Module with a brand new one make Jamie last long enough for a trade-in, photographing random restroom doors for mockery, walking two blocks (which are more like 20 in the Valley) to the Orange line, being squished by a man who smelled like yeast (a smell that comes from drinking far too much beer the night before and will forever in my mind be associated with my ex-boyfriend, Jon), running for the Red Line, walking home from Hollywood and Vine, and catching up with my friend Russell, who happened to be on the Boulevard, while my Baja Burrito got cold.

And FINALLY watching "The Silence of Sleep" which has been waiting on my end table for two weeks. Could Gael Garcia Bernal be any cuter? Don't you just want to love him and pet him and call him George? Maybe it's just this movie (nah.)

I have successfully wasted the better part of today following random thought processes on the internet when all I originally logged on to see was the route for the LA Marathon because Tami is coming over later and I didn't want her to get stuck in traffic. I'm going to 7-11 now.

Where action figures relieve themselves