Needs More Gingham

It does not cook good omelettes and stews

2012-02-06T12:41:00.000-08:00

Remember some time last year when I took Sandy in for an oil change and left in a different car? Well, guess what happened....again.

I took her in bright and early (10am--shut up, it's early for me), and there was already a wait time of an hour and a half. "That's okay," I said, "I'll go down to Subway to grab a bite to eat." So, I took a walk down to Lankershim, which was farther than I thought, but not too far, and got a sandwich. I strolled back all leisurely. One hour down, 30 minutes to go. Those of you who follow me on Twitter know what happened next....

Four Hours Later!!!

I was knitting, so time kind of flew by, but my aching butt told me I'd been sitting too long, so I asked the nice gals at the cashier desk, "Can you check on the status of my car? It's been four hours for an oil change." The girl told me "Oh, it looks like it's done. Let me ask David." David came out and told me that, yes, the oil change is done, but they found other things wrong. Of course they did. Something was rattling and something was leaking (I think the same thing from last year), and Oh, btw, you're going to need new front and back brakes to the tune of $299.99. The leaking and rattling was covered under warranty, but not the brakes. The brakes will have to wait. Hopefully, with light pressure and careful driving, I can get away with waiting until March. It sucks to be poor.

So, David tells me he is going to set me up with a rental, free of charge, but the rental car guy is at lunch. "Ten more minutes," he assured me. "Thanks for being so patient." I didn't tell him the patience was wearing thin. Finally, rental car guy showed up and set me up with this sweet ride.

It's a red, red Rogue. I have named her Joni Mitchell*. The arrows point to where the birds in my neighborhood have already dropped a load on her. I'll have to wash that off before I return her.

No fear of running over small children or animals with back up camera!

She's got a sweet entertainment system, with XM radio, although the "rock" station was playing Elvis, and not Costello. The Pop station was playing LMFAO. I opted to connect my iPod. It's pretty sweet; you can control the iPod using the steering wheel controls, although it didn't quite get the whole Random setting and kept playing from the same album or repeating the same song. Maybe I wasn't doing it right.

I only wish the iPod connection wasn't in the storage area, or that there was a notch cut into the lid to accommodate the cord. It seems awfully inconvenient, especially if you wanted to store other things in there.

I won't bore you with more photos. The cup holders are ample and shaped like the largest fast food cups, so the cup will fit perfectly. The cockpit area is well lit, with easy to read dials. And, she rides smooth. It took me a second to get used to the size and height, but I adjusted quickly. And she's got a sun roof...or a moon roof. Honestly, what's the difference? It's a window in the roof that opens. Jamie had one and I kind of miss that on beautiful days.

Okay, one more photo. This is the 101, as reflected in the building across from the dealership. Click to embiggen. It's pretty cool.

*Joni Mitchell's "California" And while technically, the rogue was a man, cars are girls so she's Joni.

The calm before the storm

2012-01-31T08:04:00.000-08:00

I'm got to the office just as the sun was cresting the tallest buildings on the LA skyline, which isn't really saying much, this being LA and there being earthquake restrictions on tall buildings and shit. But, the sun was just coming up, y'all. It's probably been a good two months since I've been awake for this event, let alone out of pajamas...and certainly not arriving at work. In recent months, there have been some changes around the office and I no longer have a front door key. But today, I'm opening the office instead of the usual gal and I have things to do before a meeting at 9:30. Since I'll be sitting at the front desk at 8:00, early arrival it is.

I'm sitting in my office and I realize that the time now is exactly twelve hours from the time I left last night. Aside from the presence of the cleaning crew, the office is exactly the same. It's cold, even colder than usual, and so quiet. I can hear the cars on the boulevard. Someone just threw trash in the dumpster across the street. I heard the lid slam. There's a quiet hum coming from the fluorescent lights that reminds me of "Joe vs. The Volcano." A fax just came in. It's probably an advertisement. We get a lot of those. I've already eaten my Cream of Wheat, which I usually don't eat until 9:30. I'll be ready for lunch by 10 at this rate.

LA is hazy today. I didn't notice that on the drive in. The clouds have a Simpsons opening look about them. I can't see the Hollywood sign from my window yet. I'm sure it'll burn off by noonish. I won't notice, though. By then, I'll be knee deep in the hoopla, as the song says. The quiet has been nice, though.

Next time, I'll actually get some salsa and guacamole

2012-01-30T12:37:00.000-08:00

My friend, Christina, eats gluten-free. She's discovered her intolerance to gluten last June, so we're still kind of in the "finding things Christina can eat" stage, although she's pretty adapted to it now. Last week, I bought a big package of corn tortillas at the 99cents store, only to remember that I'm not a fan of soft corn tortillas unless there's chicken or beef, onions, and cilantro tucked inside. What's a girl to do? Christina suggested I make my own corn chips and told me how she does it. Here's how in case you're interested.

Preheat oven to about 400-425.
Cut corn tortillas into triangles (like a pizza) or in strips, if that suits your fancy.
Arrange on cookie sheet and lightly salt or season to taste.
Bake for 8-10 minutes, checking every couple of minutes.

Okay, so that was Christina's basic instructions. Here are the things I did a little differently.

My oven knob doesn't have numbers anymore, so mine was actually at about 375, which worked just fine. It took a few minutes longer.
I did some of both, but prefer the triangles. It was easier to just take a stack of three or four and cut them quickly.
I lightly sprayed the sheet with butter-flavored Pam, arranged the triangles, then lightly sprayed again. I used garlic salt and a McCormick herb blend intended for grilled chicken.
Lower temperature meant about 15 minutes of bake time.

The results:

Oh. My. God. These were sooooo good. I ate a bunch, then put the rest in a Ziploc bag with the intention of getting salsa at the store. I never made it to the store, never got salsa, and yet, somehow the entire bag got devoured. They are that good. I may never buy mass-produced chips again. I can't wait to experiment with other flavors.

Ready to face the day--or not

2012-01-23T12:20:00.000-08:00

Yesterday morning, I lay in bed and literally watched time go by. I was snuggled under the blankets staring at my bedside clock watching the second hand tick off time, counting by fives in my head. I watched for five minutes, perfectly still, before I realized how ridiculous it was to still be in bed at that hour (11:30) and to be actually watching time fly. So I got up and made breakfast.

As I was scrambling the eggs, I thought about when I was a child. I used to wake up early as my dad was getting up for work, climb into his recently-vacated spot in bed, and snuggle up to my mom. Mom, despite having five children, was not a morning person. She did not want a squirmy, snuggly child in bed with her at 5 or 6am. She wanted to sleep for those last blessed minutes before she had to get up and tend to said children. I, on the other hand, was happy to be snuggling with Mommy and wanted to chatter and play. My parents bed had a headboard with secret compartments and sliding doors which held books and things. Their clock radio had the flip numbers and a light on an arm that was fun to extend and retract. With so many delights, how was I expected to lay still and go back to sleep. Plus, there was Daddy coming and going from the bathroom, getting ready for work. So much to do and see and talk about. Mom would mumble, "Be still." And I would be still...for about 30 seconds. After many minutes of my squirming and chatting, and her repeated admonitions to "be still" and "just lie there and go back to sleep," Mom would have enough of it and send me packing, back to my bed, downstairs to watch TV, or just anywhere that wasn't in her bed. And I would bound off to bug someone else (usually my sister).

So, where did all that energy go? Why can't I have that kind of enthusiasm to start the day when I really need it? I am definitely not a morning person anymore. Mom had the right idea--stay in bed as long as possible. Still, boundless energy would be great now and then.

February can't come soon enough

2012-01-18T18:29:00.000-08:00

I have a calendar in my bedroom. It was free from a promotional items company. Here is the January artwork.

You get the idea. Name tags that tell your employees they did a good job. Can you tell which one drives me absolutely crazy? So crazy, in fact, that I almost took a Sharpie to it for my own satisfaction?

The word "office" is so small that from across the room all I see is "I'm an rock star," and the bad grammar makes me want to scream. Every day. I find myself looking at it and saying, "No, you're an idiot." Yes, I realize it's a calendar and can't talk back. Yes, I get the concept. I just think that particular one really should have been thought through a little more.

[yes, I'm a little obsessive.]

And I didn't get a ticket

2012-01-17T17:06:00.000-08:00

Monday and Tuesday are street cleaning days in my neighborhood. Monday is my side of the street, that is, the side on which my house sits. Tuesday is the business side of the street--the police side. Now, I usually get Tuesday-side parking without a problem. This week, however, I was out on Sunday [kicking some trivia ass at Busby's West], and when I got home, no Tuesday-side parking was available. I parked on the Monday-side and pondered what to do on MLK, Jr Day to get out of the area for three hours.

Monday dawned and still I had no plan of action. 8:00am became 9:00, then 9:30 and street cleaning starts at 10! Being a holiday, you'd think there'd be amnesty, but I've been burned before. Plus the parking enforcers hate me. Finally, I remembered that I had milk bottles to return and a Wal-mart gift card to spend. From the comfort of my bed, with the help of my iPhone, I mapped out a route that would take me to both places in a nice loop.

So that's what I did. I spent an hour or so in Wal-mart spending my gift card, although they didn't have marshmallow fluff. I know! What's more white trash than marshmallow fluff? *shrugs* Off to Broguiere's Dairy.

I turned in four empty bottles and got a gallon of milk and $1.25 in return. Not too shabby. And it was a nice drive with not a lot of traffic on a beautiful day.

When I returned home, it was five minutes until 1pm. I took a chance with the parking folks. Plus, this guy was sitting on my lawn eating his lunch, which made me hungry.

Sunday...it's free until Monday

2012-01-13T09:57:00.000-08:00

What? Two videos in a row? I know, but this is a really cute short that is up for Oscar consideration.
Warning: cartoon road kill.

The Disneyfication of menstruation

2012-01-12T20:11:00.000-08:00

We all know that Disney isn't one to dwell on the unpleasantness of life. Sure, a parent dies here and there, but you don't see the messy side of it. I mean, Mufasa looked pretty good for a corpse that had just been trampled by hundreds of wildebeests. So, it's no surprise that they glossed over some fun facts in this old film about "The Story of Menstruation."

Don't get me started on the narrator's pronunciation. She probably says "Febuary" too. Some of my favorite parts are:

"If the egg is impregnated, which happens when..." Yes? "...a woman is going to have a child." Awww, way to just skip over HOW the egg is impregnated. Keep those girls ignorant.

"...to most girls, the menstrual period should bring no severe discomfort." BULLSHIT!!

"Some girls have a little less pep..." (or never want to get out of bed) "...the feeling of pressure in the lower part of the body, perhaps an occasional twinge or a touch of nerves." Really??? Pressure in the lower part of the body? an occasional twinge?? Well, Bite me, Disney and Kotex, because I'm feeling a whole lot more than pressure and twinges today.

If you can't tell, I'm feeling a little, how does The Bloggess put it? Stabby? I'd best hide away until the Pamprin kicks in.

Gotta feeling 2012 is gonna be a good year*

2012-01-09T18:33:00.000-08:00

My mother always said that whatever you do on January 1st sets the tone for the rest of the year. For years, my January 1st activities have included watching the Rose Parade, eating junk, and generally being a lazy lump. Oh, I'd set my sights high. "This year, I'm going to spend January 1st at the beach." "This year, I'm going to go hiking (you know, to set the tone for more physical fitness)." "This year, I'm going to write until the sun goes down." Needless to say, my well-intentioned plans always ended up by the wayside, while my ass became better acquainted with my sofa.

But not this year! I was invited to not one, but two social gatherings for New Year's Day and, more importantly, I attended both! I talked with old friends I hadn't seen in forever. I met new ones. I hugged a pit bull and a greyhound (or two) and realized that Santa's Little Helper is not drawn to scale because these dogs are large. And just to be on the safe side, I wore red underwear and ate a good-sized helping of black eyed peas. I had fun. Lots of fun. Thus, the tone has been set. And while I have no reason to be over optimistic, I feel good about this year. It's been good so far.

*paraphrased from "You Didn't Hear It (1921)" from Tommy by The Who.

LAPD's New Wake-Up Call Service

2011-12-30T11:45:00.000-08:00

It was already a restless night with several bizarre dreams and a headache that wouldn't go away, so I was in no frame of mind to receive a 5am phone call. All of my family members are either in Pennsylvania or Illinois, and calls at that hour usually mean bad news. But my family knows to call my cell. This was my home phone.

The handset on my home phone is broken, so I can't answer the phone. I have to wait for the caller to leave a message. This is the message I received:

"This is an emergency message from the Los Angeles Police Department. In the past three hours, LAPD's Hollywood Division has had approximately 11 suspicious vehicle fires. You are requested to report any suspicious activity by calling 9-1-1, or (800 number)."

I've lived in Hollywood for 16 years and have never once received an emergency message phone call from the LAPD. To say it was disconcerting is an understatement. As I climbed back under the covers to try to get that last hour of sleep before my alarm, I heard a series of sirens, helicopters, and police cars racing by. Needless to say, I didn't get that last hour of sleep in. To make matters worse, my friend's car is parked at my place while she's back east visiting her family, so I lay awake listening for strange noises out front and periodically checking to make sure our cars were not, in fact, on fire.

It seems like the arsonists were concentrating on cars parked under buildings in carports, with the exception of Jim Morrison's former "Love Street" home, which sustained damage from a car fire that did not start in a garage. I'm selfishly glad I park on the street and right across from the Hollywood Division station. My heart is going out to all those people whose cars were destroyed and apartments damaged.

After tonight, I don't intend to go anywhere until Sunday

2011-12-22T18:16:00.000-08:00

I took the day off to run a bunch of errands. Not shopping errands, but legitimate things like renewing the visitor parking pass so Christina can park at my house, and returning a library book to a library that is not open late. Unfortunately, I fell asleep on the sofa last night and then didn't get up early today like I wanted. By the time I showered and got dressed, there was no time to do anything, except drive my friend to the airport. Her flight left at 4:30, but she wanted to get there early since she just had surgery and moves slowly.

We left my house and got on the 101. I know. What was I thinking? I was thinking I'd take the 105, since I can take the carpool lane with passengers. That's the freeway from Speed that "is finished on the map." I guess everyone had the same idea because 20 minutes later we hadn't even made it to the Vermont exit. Crappity. So, we exited at Vermont (when we got there), headed south, and took the 10 to the 405, which was much smoother sailing. I got Christina to the airport by 3:00, which is not as early as we'd hoped, but still plenty of time.

Then, I decided to stop at the LADOT office on Pico to get a parking pass, so I headed back up the 405. Or rather, I sat on the 405 forever until finally being able to exit on National and get my arse to Pico and Roxbury, where I secured rock star parking right up front and was in and out in five minutes.

But I didn't make it to the library and now I'll have to pay a fine for Modelland.

My Muse needs an intervention and an off switch

2011-12-12T11:56:00.000-08:00

Here's an excerpt from an email I sent my sister a week or so ago:

" I'm in full-on crazy knitter mode right now. My muse (she inherited all the crazy from those southern women in our background) decided at 1am Saturday (11/26) morning that I absolutely HAD to make something (a specific something that shall remain a mystery for now), and that this something needed to be done by December 1st. Four days? No problem since I don't have anything to do at all. Christina laughed at me and said, "Why on earth would you even attempt that?" Christina clearly does not have a muse, or at least not a crazy ass Southern one like me. "

That project? I gave up. It's obvious I was only fooling myself if I thought I'd actually get it done in time for Christmas (December 1st was a pipe dream), or even my sister's birthday, which is December 30th. I'll complete the project for next Christmas, but for now, I'm on to Plan B.

What's Plan B? Well, my crazy muse decided I needed to learn a new knitting technique, master it, and make gifts for everyone on my list. She decided this yesterday at about 11:30am. I learned the technique. Master? We'll see. But I have started one of the gifts. I have to download a pattern for another one. Oh, and there's these mittens and gloves I've yet to finish. Damn, what is my problem? And there's the so-soft-and-pretty-I-had-to-buy-it yarn I picked up last week, because I need to make myself something, right? Did I mention the Holiday cards I'm making? Because it seemed like a good idea?

Please, if you see my muse, get her black-out drunk, then lock her in a closet somewhere. I do not need any more projects at this time.

You say pretty tree; I say seven feet of fresh cut evil

2011-12-06T15:59:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again, when folks feel the need to litter public places with pine trees. The lobby of our office building has been sporting wood since the day before Thanksgiving. It was only a matter of time before my co-workers decided to spring for a tree for our own marbled entrance. Damn you all.

Before you think I'm all Scrooge-like and Grinchy, I'm not. I'm super allergic to pine trees. I know, it's ridiculous and it sucks. Just ask my siblings who had to settle for a fake tree every year. Eventually, I built up a tolerance while living in Northeast Pennsyltucky, but I've been away from the flora and fauna of the Poconos for some time now. I just can't handle the pine anymore. Unfortunately, I have to cover our front desk for an hour every day while the receptionist goes to lunch.

About 20 minutes in, my head gets instantly stuffy, my face flushes, my throat gets scratchy, and my eyes start to burn. Yes, I can ask someone else to cover, but not every day for the entire month of December. We just don't have that kind of staff. I really should put my foot down and tell them, "No, you cannot put a fresh tree in the lobby if you want me to continue my duties," but I'm basically a pansy and I don't want to sound like a bitch. I mean, no one believes I'm allergic in the first place. "What? How can you be allergic to Christmas trees?" has been the usual response.

Next year. Next year I'll put my foot down.

This is payback for those ten years of feeling smug about not having to deal with parking in LA.

2011-12-05T10:18:00.000-08:00

I'm pissed. No, that doesn't cover it. I'm FURIOUS! Here's the story: I got a hankering for something sweet last night around 7pm and headed out to 7-11. As it was dark and my neighborhood isn't the best, I decided to drive. I got in the car, looked up and saw a parking ticket on my windshield. What? Dude, why did I get a ticket? I have a permit. I'm not parked in a driveway. It's not street cleaning day. Why? I looked at the ticket and it said "Preferential Parking," which is silly because I have a parking permit, it's right there, see?

That's me, all slack jawed, because someone stole* the parking sticker off the back of my car!! Stole it! Right. Off. My. Car! Now, the sticker is useless to them because even if they DID manage to get it to stick back on a car and look like new, not stolen and reapplied, the sticker has my plate number on it. Of course, that is only a problem if the parking enforcement person actually compares the sticker to the plates. I'm doubting their diligence as I have seen cars with other districts parking permits not get tickets and also because the ticket I have in my possession says my car was parked on Leland Way when it was actually parked on DeLongpre (a parallel street).

So, now, I'll be spending my lunch hour at the parking office trying to reason with them about not getting this ticket, and paying for a replacement sticker, which I will affix with superglue and then score like folks do with their registration stickers. Why does this shit always happen when I can't afford it? Balls!!!

*I say it's stolen because in six years of car ownership and parking on this street through all kinds of weather and countless car washes, I have never had a sticker just fall off.

"Best Selling" is not synonymous with "Really Good" (Or "The Empress's New Clothes")

2011-12-02T15:54:00.000-08:00

Long time readers know I love me some "America's Next Top Model." It's pretty much the ONLY "reality" TV show I watch (mostly because I don't have cable, but also because I love Miss Jay). This past Wednesday, Tyra had the four finalists posing and acting out scenes or themes (I was unclear) from her own work of fiction, Modelland. Yes, my friends, Tyra Banks wrote a novel. I'll pause here while you recover from this news.

The scenes she had the girls doing were ridiculous and became more and more absurd. Finally, Christina, who was watching it with me, and I decided we NEEDED to read this book, if for no other reason than to openly mock it. I searched every library in the city and county and found two copies at two separate branches. They are now in my possession.

I have read the first chapter, and while I don't want to give anything away because Christina hasn't started reading yet, I think my title up top gives you an idea of what we're up against. Remember, TyTy...even Snooki "wrote" a best seller.

I suspect arson

2011-11-30T16:08:00.000-08:00

I haven't used the microwave at work since last week as I was taken to lunch on Monday and completely forgot to eat yesterday. So, when I opened the door to use it today, I was shocked at the general filth I found inside. Apparently, someone one wasn't paying attention and whatever they were cooking caught on fire. The entire inside of the microwave is scorched and there's even scorch marks on the outside vents. And I'm not talking a little bit scorched like a burnt bag of popcorn. I talking call-in-the-arson-investigators scorched. It does appear that the perpetrator tried to clean up a little, but you can't get rid of that charred smell.

I tried to clean it using my tried and true sugar scrub mixed with Dawn, but only the bottom came clean...and that was covered by the Pyrex plate (which was burned with a tar-like substance, but I managed to get that clean) so not as bad. I finally gave up and called it--time of death unknown. I can only imagine this fire happened after hours because no one knew about it. Trust me, all one has to do is burn just a few kernels and the whole office is on your ass, so a fire of this magnitude would have brought all kinds of wrath. Check out the damage.

I'm not sure why these photos are rotated, but you can still see the grossness.

That's why it's called Stuffing!

2011-11-30T14:55:00.000-08:00

[This post was meant to appear on November 25th, but technology was not my friend.]

Oof. I ate good yesterday and I'm still eating good thanks to tasty leftovers. I spent Thanksgiving, as usual, with my beautiful friend, Jaclyn, and her equally beautiful family. We are pretty much an extended family now after so many years of celebrating together. Thanks for another delightful Thanksgiving Jaclyn, Chris, Julia, Mary, Lindsay, Michele, Greg, and our new additions, Lily and Jimmy.

Since Wednesday was my birthday and today is Mary's birthday (she's Jaclyn's Mom--Happy Birthday Mary!), we both got presents. I got an awesome spy camera. Okay, maybe not exactly a spy camera, but it's tiny and cute and hides easily in the palm of my hand. I can see myself taking all kinds of TMZ-worthy photos. Beware. No one is safe. The quality isn't bad either. I'd include photos but my home computer isn't cooperating and when I tried to take more I inadvertently deleted them. Woe is me.

It's my birthday and I'll pie if I want to.

2011-11-23T16:42:00.000-08:00

That's right. Another year has passed and it's my birthday again. You know what that means? My email inbox is filled with birthday wishes---from companies with whom I've done business. Free drink at Starbucks! Free car wash at the Nissan dealership! Discount at the yarn store! Discounts at several online stores! I'll admit, I enjoy the birthday wishes. I'm a kid at heart.

My office had our annual Thanksgiving potluck today. Soooo much good food. I'll say one thing for my co-workers--they sure can cook. Turkey? yum. Ham? yum. Taters? yum. Mac & cheese? yum. Grilled Brussels sprouts? So very yum. And don't get me started on the desserts. I'm just going to roll on out of here today.

Thanks to everyone who woke with with Facebook birthday wishes. I feel so special. I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving.

I'm a Great Aunt, again (or always)

2011-11-21T17:42:00.000-08:00

Sorry I've been absent. Things are happening that I can't talk about and I've been ill with the lingering cough (do you have to let it lingerrrrr...). But I CAN talk about my sweet, brave, niece, Elyse, who endured nearly 24 hours of labor to bring a beautiful baby boy into the world. Welcome James Matthew Jefferson Shaw. ~~I'd show you a picture, but he's nekkid and I'd like to give the kid some dignity~~. I stole this photo from Facebook. I'm not sure who took it. Congratulations, Elyse. I can't believe you're someone's mother now.

In other news, today is another sweet niece's birthday. Happy Birthday, Mary! I know what it's like to have a nephew* born so close to your birthday that everyone from here on out will try to lump your birthdays together, and lump it in with Thanksgiving if they can get away with it. Know that your Aunt Laurie will always recognize your day as your own.

*Love you Roy--wouldn't trade you for the world...even if I did get gipped on the birthdays.

Knit Picks-y

2011-11-10T12:02:00.000-08:00

In case you know my Sugar Daddy, or my Fairy Godmother...Here is my Knit Picks Wish List. I'm entering a contest to win some goodies. Do you like yarny goodness? You can enter too. Just check it out here.

In other news, I'm still sick, but I'm tired of tea. Cup of coffee! Stat! Fortunately, we had a meeting and there's Starbucks in the conference room. I'm drinking out of my Molly the Owl mug instead of my usual travel mug because I need the warmth in my hands. My cough is mostly gone, my throat is no longer sore, but my damn sinuses are fomenting a riot in my head. I feel like my eyes are being pushed out like a Pug. At least I managed make up today. Just because I feel like crap doesn't mean I have to look the part.

Still sick

2011-11-09T12:31:00.000-08:00

Who wants to go to Langer's and buy me some matzo ball soup?

I took the day off yesterday to rest and get better. Many doses of Tylenol Cold & Flu (severe formula) and lots of sleep interspersed with a Criminal Minds marathon had me feeling much better this morning. I had to come to work for a series of meetings. I got up, showered, put make up on, and was out the door, but halfway to work my throat started getting scratchy, my cough came back, my eyes got watery, my nose started running....that's it! I'm allergic to work! Does disability cover that?

We talked about getting lunch for one of the meetings (and decided against it), so now I really really want Langer's matzo soup with an egg salad sandwich. Anyone? They do the curbside pick-up.

Sick....and tired, but not necessarily sick and tired

2011-11-07T09:36:00.000-08:00

I inadvertently had a Rob Riggle movie marathon this weekend. Who is this guy and why was he in every movie I watched this weekend? I can't find a common denominator, save him, and the fact that they were all comedies. In the first movie, I thought, "this guy is funny and kind of a douche." In the second movie, I thought, "Hey, it's that guy again." By the third movie, I thought, "Oh come on! Now you're just messing with me." Anyway, at least we know the Riggle family isn't starving as daddy is bringing home a steady paycheck.

On Saturday, the ladies of trivia competed in the 2nd Annual King Trivia Tournament of Champions. We were in 24th place going into the competition. For the first couple of rounds we held on to first place, but the 3-for-3 round consistently does us in. I mean, what three Vice Presidents had the shortest terms in office? Who knows that shit? Well, apparently a lot of nerds at the competition, because we dropped out of first. We ended the tournament in 12th place, which isn't bad considering there are 30 teams competing and we only had three team members (against the six that most teams had).

But the sick, well, that came on sometime overnight. I blame the time change, because why not. I woke up Sunday with a sore throat that I attributed to having to shout over the din on Saturday. An hour later, though, it was clear the sore throat was a harbinger of things to come and not just a run-of-the-mill soreness. The stuffy head, fever, achy body, cough, chest congestion--yep, I'm fully ill. Back to bed with a cup of tea I went. Of course, I had to come to work today, but I had some unavoidable tasks to complete. Hopefully, I can leave early.

I'd love to stay and chat, but I really moustache

2011-11-01T11:05:00.000-07:00

Welcome to Movember. I love me a good moustache so this month is going to provide me with some sweet eye candy. I've decided to stop waxing my own 'stache in solidarity with the menfolk, because after all, without the menfolk, we'd be....who would do....I mean, I'm sure we'd miss them.

In honor of Movember, Etsy has some really great moustache related items. Check out my favorites:

Stache a day--found here

I love a good pun--found here.

The baby's giving eyebrow!--found here

And so many more. Have fun, and remember to get the ol' prostate checked out.

Happy Halloween

2011-10-31T15:39:00.000-07:00

I parted my hair differently. Do my ears stick out too much?

"I'll never drink again." oh, pumpkin, we've all said that.

Prompt Tuesday: Top Five

2011-10-25T17:44:00.000-07:00

Deb asked for a Top Five and I hate to disappoint.

Top Five Grammatical Pet Peeves (not in any order):

Improper use of the pronoun myself
Unnecessary quotation marks
Your vs You're
Using Loose when you mean Lose, which is really a spelling error, but still pisses me off.
Using weary, when you mean leery or wary. Combining the two words doesn't make you extra cautious. It just makes you dumb...and apparently tired. Again, not really grammatical but still gets my panties in a bunch.

Oh Hi. Remember me?

2011-10-24T17:27:00.000-07:00

Well, the fall fundraiser is done, over, finite. I can relax and return to my normal work schedule and normal work duties, which remain abnormal, but less frantic. What a day it was, too! It was held at the Annenberg Community Beach House, which is lovely. However, a thick fog bank rolled in and cast an eerie glow over the parking and beach. No matter, we were there to party and spend money, not look at the scenery.

The staff was to wear black cocktail attire. Well, Laurie Ann loves color. Laurie Ann cannot do all black without a pop of something something. So, I blinged it up a bit with some teal accessories and lots of sparkly bits. [Pardon the bad cell phone photos, and self portrait of the back of my head]

Hey, there's supposed to be a faux diamond in the middle. I found it later on the floor and fixed it.

The sangria was delicious. I had three...or four. I can't math.

The food, by Patina catering, was unbelievable, especially the dessert, a flan concoction that was out of this world. Our MC was a hoot, and the salsa lessons, a highlight of the evening, were a success. Even our auction items fetched some top dollar bids. Too bad I won four of those bids and now owe my soul to the company. (So worth it! I got all the Pamper Me packages) It always seems so anticlimactic, though. All the build up and then...sigh. It's all over but for the Thank You letters.

PS. All the accessories? Under $25 at Forever 21. I love that store.

Scare D. Kat

2011-10-11T10:34:00.000-07:00

This post is for Deb over at San Diego Momma for Prompt Tuesday, but also because it's October and I recently talked to a friend about me being a scaredy cat.

Regular blog readers know that I live in an apartment equipped with strange little doors, which I like to call Gnome Doors, because "Doors to some unforeseen evil" is just too scary. They are kind of creepy, those doors, but this story is not about them. This story takes place a long, long time ago (cue wavy flashback lines)....

I lived in an old farmhouse in Kunkletown, Pennsylvania, with my friend Bruce, one of the funniest guys I knew and an aspiring filmmaker. Bruce was adapting a Goosebumps-type book onto film, starring our landlord's daughter and several of our co-workers. The plot, in brief: Girl cheats on boyfriend, boyfriend drowns while the two are out on a lake late at night, girl is consumed with guilt and haunted by dead boyfriend. I won't tell you the surprise ending as it doesn't come into play here. Because the girl feels her dead boyfriend (played by our friend Matt) is haunting her, she consults her aunt, who happens to be a psychic. I was the aunt. We were going to try to connect with the dead boy's spirit and tell him to move on.

Okay, so we'd been filming all night long trying to get as many night shots in as possible. We'd filmed the drowning scene on the pond next to our house using every one's car headlights to light the scene Ala Ed Wood. We filmed a crucial climactic scene, and now at midnight/1ish, we were in the dining room of our old farmhouse filming the scene where the aunt tries to connect with the spirit. Everyone was tired. John was asleep on a window bench. Matt was heating up spaghetti in the kitchen. Aaron was doing something to help Bruce (microphone maybe) and Robin and I sat across from one another with a candle between us and a copy of the Necronomicon. Not the real one, of course, since it doesn't exist, but a book of spells purported to be the Necronomicon.

Bruce started filming and I started reading, in Latin, with surprisingly good inflection. We were going for one take, two if necessary. I continued to read; the house was deadly quiet, except for the sound of my voice in a rhythmic cadence and a slight hum from the microwave in the kitchen which we hoped wouldn't be picked up on the microphone ("we'll fix it in post"). Every one's breath was held as they listened. Suddenly, as I was about to read the very last line of some random spell Bruce had chosen because it sounded good, all of the following happened at the exact same moment:

Bruce shouted "Noooooo" while slamming his hand on the book to stop me from reading.
the candle blew out
John violently fell off the window bench
The plate in the microwave exploded
the electricity went out
a loud crash came from the basement

Ah, the basement. Dank dens of no good--I hate basements. This one--did I mention it was an old farmhouse?--had several rooms, including an old coal room from back in the day. The lights didn't reach all the corners. And quite frankly, after we re-lit the candle and our heartbeats returned to normal, no one wanted to go down there to check the breaker. We were sure that I had somehow conjured a demon while reading the spell, which is why Bruce stopped me from completely it. So, we ALL went down to check the breaker, creeping down the stairs with every available flashlight and candle we could find like the Scooby gang. And of course, we reset the breaker and everything was fine. But the rest of the shoot was plagued with mishaps and for years we talked about "the day Laurie Ann conjured that demon."

More recently, like last night, I painted my nails with glow-in-the-dark polish and scared myself when I woke to pee and saw my hand on the pillow.

Innocuous in the daylight

What about the Knitters Code? Or is it really more of a guideline.

2011-10-01T17:40:00.000-07:00

I played hooky for half a day yesterday and went to the Central Library downtown. I perused the knitting books, gathered an armload, and then went to the Annenberg Gallery. I paused briefly to get this picture of my absolute favorite part of the downtown library.

The rotunda!

I love the rotunda. I love that chandelier. I love the marble floor. Every time I'm there, I just want to stand beneath that globe, arms stretched wide, and spin until I'm too dizzy to stand. I resist the urge, but one of these days...

Anywho, I checked out my books, then spent an inordinate amount of time in the library store because they have so many fun things to see. I got some food and sat outside in the muggy weather to read and enjoy being out of the office. One of the books I got had a little note attached to the front "missing pages 79-80." I looked at the pattern picture for those pages and decided it wasn't missing much. Well, when I started really looking at the book, I found it was missing more than those two pages. It was missing about four full patterns. Some asshole (oh, yeah, I'm going there) ripped out the pages for the patterns they liked (leaving the pictures to tease future book borrowers) and returned the book that way.

Isn't there some kind of Knitters Code? Who does that? Why wouldn't a person just photo copy (I know, copyright issues) rather than destroy a book, and inconveniencing fellow knitters? I added an addendum to the note on the front of the book, but I hope the library doesn't think I did it. And I really wanted to make two of the missing patterns. Boo! Bad Knitter!!

That's the 1970's

2011-09-10T13:15:00.000-07:00

Yesterday at work, several new employees were waiting in the lobby for the training to start when one gal said to another, "I love your boots. They're so cute."

"Oh, thanks," she replied. "They were my grandmothers." I stood up from my seat at the reception desk to take a look at the cute boots, expecting to see something like this. What I saw was more like this. The booted young lady went on, "yeah, I was wearing a pair of Uggs, but my grandma said 'oh, wait, I have a better pair of boots for you,' and pulled out these."

"They're real nice," said the first girl. "They're in good condition."

"Yeah, They're from, like, the 70's too," said the second girl.

The 70's!!! Her GRANDMOTHER wore them in the 70's. I had to ask--"How old is your Grandmother? How old is your Mother??"

"My mom is 41, and my grandma is 62." And then I felt super old and cried in my Metamucil.

A nod's as good as a wink to a blind man, eh?

2011-09-08T10:40:00.000-07:00

Trivia night at Barney's Beanery in Westwood is always packed. Well, I imagine Barney's is packed every day of the week, but on trivia night, seating is at capacity and we always have to scramble to find a seat. Last night, we sat at the bar. The bar seats are old car bucket seats, which while comfortable, made me feel incredibly short as my feet did not touch the step. Also, the mid-level bar (walk in, up the stairs to your left) is served by the downstairs bartender who CLIMBS A LADDER TO SERVE THE DRINKS!! I kid you not. She has one of those sliding ladders like you find in the library (or as our bartender pointed out, Beauty and the Beast) and she climbs the ladder then leans down to pick up the beer and then reaches up to serve it. How is that even remotely safe? To make it worse, the mid-level bar patrons are provided a variety of tools to summon the bartender, such as bicycle bells, hotel bells, and the super-annoying old car horn. That poor girl. We tipped her well.

But this post is not about the bartender or the crazy mid-level bar. Christina and I (there were only two of us) sat at the bar and chatted with a lovely young Brit before trivia started. She was Asian and the accent kind of threw me (yes, I know that's incredibly racist), kind of like the first time Cho Chang spoke in the Harry Potter films. She was sweet and we broke the sad news to her that she could not use her old iPhone from England on her new T-mobile plan. Anywho, trivia started, her friends arrived, so our conversation stopped.

A round or two later, a British accent on my right said, "So, 'ow you doing so far?" I turned, expecting the sweet girl from before, and was faced with an extremely inebriated Camilla Parker-Bowles the early years. I recovered quickly and said, "well, we're sucking right now, but there's time to catch up." To which Camilla replied, "Sometimes sucking is a good thing, eh? Know what I mean?" with an elbow to the ribs. "These questions are too American, but if anything British comes up, you come to me (wink)." Suddenly she became Eric Idle and I was in the middle of a Monty Python skit--as the straight man! I'm never the straight man. I smiled, nodded, and turned away giving Christina the "save me" eyes.

Drunkmilla turned to some hapless man on her right and I was safe. Although, we still sucked royally for the night. I won't tell you the score; it was humiliating. So much so that we considered leaving before the last round because it wasn't going to help our score any, but stayed because the last round was a music round and we always do well with those. It didn't help.

Virgo Love

2011-09-02T19:15:00.000-07:00

Today is my brother Michael's birthday. Happy Birthday, Big Brother!!!! I love you!

As I mentioned before, I have an affinity for Virgos. I get them like no other sign. So, in Honor of Michael, here's a partial list of famous folks who were also born on this day.

Film Industry:
Keanu Reeves
Salma Hayek
Mark Harmon
Linda Purl
Martin Miller (I don't know him either, but that's my Dad's name and I thought it was funny)
Hal Ashby (director of Harold and Maude)

Athletes:
Lennox Lewis
Jimmy Connors
Peter Ueberroth
Terry Bradshaw

Regular Folk (fame questionable, except Christa McAuliffe)
Christa McAuliffe
Harvey Levin
Robert Shapiro
Camille Grammer

And that's just a smattering*. Do you know someone born on this day? If so, tell them I said Happy Birthday, Virgo.

*Wait until you see the rogue's gallery of folks who share my birthday.

So Damn Quotable

2011-08-31T18:19:00.000-07:00

On Twitter today, two of the folks I follow mentioned the movie Speed, quoting from it.

I quote Speed all the time, too. I love the "But I'm taller" line when he cuts off Dennis Hopper's head with the light in the subway tunnel. My friend hates that line, but it's one of my favorites. I also quote Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure, Point Break, and The Matrix way too much. So, what is it about Keanu Reeves's movies that makes them so damn quotable? Do you have any favorite quotes from these films?

Best. Game. Ever.

2011-08-30T20:07:00.000-07:00

I went to dinner with my friend Christina last night and she innocently* suggested we play a game afterwards since her roommate was going to be home and all. It's a game she had mentioned before but we never got around to playing. The game is called "You evil whore! How could you block my road?!" No, no, I kid. It's called Settlers of Catan. Now, it's been around forever, so I'm sure all of you are going, "oh yeah, that" with a bored eye roll. I, however, had never heard of this game before Christina mentioned it in passing a few times, and certainly never knew or imagined how much fun it could be.

Photo courtesy of Walking Wounded blog

If you've never played, it's just the best game ever. It's kind of a cross between Risk, Monopoly, and Go Fish. You have to build houses, roads, and settlements and collect resources, which you can trade with other players. I annoyed the bejesus out of Christina and Becky by asking for bricks in the voice of Kaitlin from SNL. "Does anyone have any BRICK! BRICK! BRICK!" And broke into giggles every time someone said something like, "I need wood" or "No one is getting any wood this round." Yes, I'm 12.

Guess what? It's available online and as a phone app. I may never be productive again.

*She wasn't innocent. She knew exactly what she was doing.

The really important things we discuss at work

2011-08-24T10:02:00.000-07:00

On the phone with my boss, who suggested I take lead on yet another project, I said, "If you give me any more projects you're going to find me at the bottom of a bottle." To which she replied, "Like a genie?" Then our discussion devolved into truly important things like:

Where did Jeannie pee?* I mean, she was stuck in that bottle with nothing but a round sofa.(although we both agreed that as children we totally wanted a bedroom like the inside of her bottle)
Where did she sleep?** I can't imagine the back pain one would wake up with having slept on that curved sofa all night.
What did Jeannie eat that whole time she was stuck in the bottle before Major Nelson found her?***
And why were the evil cousins on TV back then always brunettes? (I'm looking at you,too, Bewitched) Brunettes are not evil.

Yes, these are the things my boss and I talk about instead of work.**** What do you talk about with your boss?

*We decided she must have had a small bathroom on the side of the bottle we never saw.

**It must have been a sofa bed, which led to "how did she find sheets to fit?"

***She's a genie. She could blink in food. (which led to why couldn't she blink herself out)

****Yesterday, we talked about spam, Viagra, and the "enlarge your manhood" ads.

More Comic Coincidences

2011-08-23T15:30:00.000-07:00

Wow, I suck at this whole NaBloPoMo thing. I've got so much to do today due to brain vacancy last week, but here's a little comic relief to hold you over.

Two unrelated comics with virtually the same content. Frogs are funny. I like "The Barn" more, but the graphic wetness of the frog's tongue in "Over the Hedge" sells it more.

Just don't ask me to talk about it

2011-08-18T15:11:00.000-07:00

I couldn't post this yesterday, and I don't really have words for it today, but I have to say it because ignoring it doesn't make it not true. Yesterday, in the wee hours of the morning, my brother Brian lost his battle with cancer and went to join my Mom, where she is no doubt telling him to get a haircut and watch his language. It feels very strange to have a gap in the line-up of siblings, like a gap-toothed smile--it looks fine, but you know there should be something there. He fought hard and I'm glad he's no longer suffering, but selfishly I want my brother back.

I love you, Brian. Goodbye.

Here, There, and Everywhere

2011-08-17T18:03:00.000-07:00

There was a meeting in the office for which I was responsible for setting up and providing food. The website was still being all wonky as well. So, my day pretty much consisted of driving, playing with Internet, driving, compress disc space, driving, IP Configuration, driving....aw, hell, I'm going home. That was my last thought as I drove one of the meeting folks to the train station. It was already 4:30; I'd had it for the day.

Three blocks from home I suddenly remembered that there were dishes to clean up in the conference room from breakfast. Crappity crap crap! I called one of the finance folks and beg him to do me a solid and clean up the room. In turn, I'll buy him some Starbucks in the morning. That's fair, right?

Damn you, Mercury, with your retrograde and shit

2011-08-16T18:07:00.000-07:00

I manage our website at work. I didn't design it, mind you; that's the work of our brilliant designer, Andrew. However, I update the content, and I, along with Andrew, decided to move it to a different web host, since our old host had us on a shared server and it slowed down our revolving banner. All of this is scintillating, I know. Our contract with the old host ends next week anyway, so it was a great time to move. All of this became moot when something happened at the old host and our website went away. No, really, it just disappeared. All kinds of error mumbo jumbo showed up and the talented Andrew, along with our other talented tech folk, started working like fiends to get it back up. It's been a week and finally, they got the new site (updated and fancier) launched on the new server...except maybe not. I can't get it to pull up on my computer. Neither can the boss. Neither can her colleagues, which makes my world a not-so-pleasant place.

So, Andrew was here to show me how to update the pretty new site with a pretty new back end (hee hee...I said back end), and HE was unable to get the new site to come up on my computer. We pulled it up on other computers in the company, but not mine and not the boss's. Rats! We cleared my cache, deleted cookies, and now they are doing a disk cleanup. Still nothing.

Then I got a call from a woman who told me something about Mercury in retrograde and it all became perfectly clear. For those of you who aren't nodding your heads and saying, "Ohhh, yeah," here's why:

"Since Mercury rules communication, it's said that everything goes haywire in that area -- emails get deleted or bounced back, mail is returned, calls go out into the ethers, etc. Some people find that their computers go on the fritz or phone lines go down."

And now you know. Unfortunately, it will be in retrograde until August 26th, so don't buy any electronics, get a haircut, pick a fight, or say anything that could be misconstrued until after the 26th. Not too hard, right?

One heck of an accounting department

2011-08-15T15:04:00.000-07:00

This is for the Catholics out there, but non-Catholics are welcome to read too.

I have been praying the Rosary* this week, for reasons that will be discussed later, and because it's been some years since I went to church and even more since I was religiously educated, I needed to consult a pamphlet for the Apostle's Creed. The pamphlet is really old--like pre-Vatican II old--so it has a whole page on how many indulgences you get from praying the rosary a) alone; b) with family (private or public); or c) with a large group (again, private or public). Indulgences, for those who don't feel like checking out the links, were basically time served for good behavior and shortened the time you would have to be tortured in purgatory before going to heaven. You got them from "good works" and from apparently praying the rosary with your family and in a group setting. Indulgences were either partial or plenary, although the unit of measure that constituted what was partial and what was plenary was up for interpretation. Hours?Days? Weeks? Who knows? Reading or listening to the scripture (piously, mind you) for 30 minutes got you one plenary indulgence. The Second Vatican Council kind of shied away from indulgences, after that whole Martin Luther thing.

So I got to thinking, with all these people doing all this work for all those indulgences, partial and full, Jesus would need a really good accountant to keep track. A whole department, I would think. Maybe even a Controller to keep the department in checks and balances--probably St. Matthew.

Somewhere, a heavenly accounting clerk is digging in the holy filing cabinet for my records and adding a couple of plenary indulgences in my credit column. Thanks, buddy. Add a couple for Brian, too.

*It's not jewelry!

Too hot to knit, except for baby things

2011-08-13T23:40:00.000-07:00

I'm almost done with this sweater and I'm very proud of the little pocket I made.

Google doesn't let friends drunk email. Way to be looking out, Google.

2011-08-13T01:22:00.000-07:00

It's late, I know. Technically, this is my August 12th post even though it's after Midnight.

I was emailing my sister (Hi Katie!) and I hit the send button, when suddenly a window popped up. It said something about it being "that time of day" and asked me to complete some simple math problems in 60 seconds before it would send my email. Now, I'm sure Google is filled with a bunch of super smart folks who think it's easy to subtract 26 from 77 at 1:00am. But, me? I can't do that in my head at 1:00PM, let alone at this hour, when I'm tired and I've been crying (more on that another time).

I appreciate you looking out for me, Google. Next time, though, can you make the simple math even simpler?

Yummy! Gooey! Fun!

2011-08-11T10:14:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was National S'mores Day, so naturally, we ordered s'mores at Barney's Beanery last night.

photo courtesy of Karyn Newbill

That blue lump in the stone bowl is the flame. Oh no! Karyn's marshmallow is on fire!!! S'mores and The Matrix on 20 giant screens in HD--now that's just good clean fun.

Sadly, the delicious s'mores did not add to our mental prowess and we didn't win trivia last night. But that's okay, the highest score was only 53, and that was from a team of 15-20 people who work in the medical field. There were some tough questions.

Not a-musing

2011-08-10T13:08:00.000-07:00

Damn my flighty muse. She's the one who makes me cast on for a sweater, or blanket, or scarf on the hottest day of summer even though I already have a million other projects crying for attention. She's the one who makes me suddenly want to cook something fancy and gourmet even though I'm the only one home to eat it. And lately, she's the one who puts words and stories in my head and pushes them out of me via a pen in my right hand even though I'm in the middle of some very important things, like getting laundry together so I don't have to go naked, or typing up two and a half hours worth of meeting minutes that are due today! That rotten muse.

Her latest: I was washing my hands and about to leave the bathroom, when this sentence came to my head, "Frank was an asshole from the very beginning, which Kay knew but chose to ignore." What followed was an old story, for which I have had a closing line, but not an opening. Muse, don't you know I have a meeting to listen to and transcribe? Don't you know I have a huge meeting on Friday, the details of which need to be ironed out and finalized? Don't you know I don't have time to be writing no short stories?? I guess she doesn't.

Denmark? Reallly??

2011-08-08T16:09:00.000-07:00

We won at Trivia again last night. (Yawn) I'm really trying not to get all smug and cocky, because I feel a comeuppance coming on. Last night, though, we couldn't help ourselves. The category for the round was Islands. There were some easy ones: On what island can you find Guantanamo Bay Naval Base? Sardinia is located off the western coast of which country? But ol' question number five had us stumped but good.

The US purchased the Virgin Islands in 1917 from what country?

I know!! Okay, sure, there are probably a lot of you out there who know the answer. None of you were at our table. And apparently, none of you were at Barney's Beanery in Santa Monica last night. We debated. I thought France (based purely on conjecture and that one of the islands is St. Croix and that sounds French). Another teammate said Holland, based on dutch names of towns and such. None of us knew for sure and we tried to be deductive about it. "Martinique is nearby and they speak French there." "Bahamas are nearby and they speak English and use dollars" "There's a British Virgin Islands, too." In the end, we put Holland down but did not check the "Double or nothing" circle.

The answer is, of course, Denmark. And absolutely no one--NOT ONE TEAM--got it correct. Yet nearly everyone--all but two--doubled down. The quiz master was reading the scores and it went something like this: "(team name) Unsuccessful double down, zero points (team name) Unsuccessful double down, zero points. (team name) Unsuccessful double down, zero points....." until it just became ridiculous. We were cracking up. When he finally got to our team, one of the only two with scores, we couldn't help but rejoice. I've never been so happy to get five points.

Then some Opie Cunningham-looking dude gave us the eye and said, "that team has to go down." Sorry to disappoint you Opie Cunningham, but this was the third time we've placed First in a week. We are on fire (whispered because I don't want to tempt fate).

New adventures in laundry avoidance

2011-08-07T16:45:00.000-07:00

Yes, another weekend and I am finding ways to avoid doing my laundry. I had planned to do it yesterday, but I woke up with a migraine and was useless for the rest of the day. I did nothing more than lay in bed and avoid direct sunlight.

Today, I felt much better, but still did not feel like getting out of bed. So, I read a few chapters of my current book, played some mahjong solitaire on my Kindle, and picked up an old journal from the nightstand. Sometimes I like to reread stuff and see where I was back then. This particular journal, from around 2000-2001, was one in which I wrote story ideas, snippets I'd thought of, great titles, and some beginnings of stories with plotlines vaguely formed. I re-read them and realized why some never went anywhere. But one had a good start and I already knew how it ended. So, I grabbed a pen, and started writing. I used some of the already-written piece and added on and on until a few hours later, I had a pretty good story going, but still no clean clothes.

So, I took a shower and gathered my baskets. I mean, I can't put it off forever.

You Dim Sum, you lose some

2011-08-06T22:09:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, I was not feeling it. I was frustrated and cranky, so even though I have a ton of things that I need to do for a big meeting next week, I ditched work and went to lunch with my boss and her family for her birthday. We went to Ocean Star in Monterey Park for Dim Sum. I'd never been before, so while I was on the phone with my boss, I looked it up on Yelp. Note to self: Do not look at the photos on Yelp. There are 200+ photos from this place and while most of the food looks fine, people just love to photograph the chicken feet, which are just gross no matter how good the lighting or angle. The boss and I kept going "ewww, look at that one!" Lots of folks out there with (chicken) foot fetishes. The food was good and cheap, though. My favorite was the shrimp har gow, and some seaweed wrapped shrimp thing, but everything was delicious.

Next, still not feeling the work thing, I went a few blocks down the street to watch a culmination at one of our schools. There is nothing cuter than kids singing for their parents. They get so excited and embarrassed at the same time. It was pretty adorable. Afterward, we were served refreshments from around the globe.

Then I got lost coming home because there are all these freeways and I didn't want to sit in traffic...yeah, I found my way back though. Another note to self: the stupid bar method class doesn't get out until 5:30, so good luck finding parking on your street before that. (grumble grumble skinny bitches taking up all the parking on my street grumble grumble)

It's hard not to get too cocky

2011-08-04T00:19:00.000-07:00

Another night of trivia, another first place win. One might say we got lucky, beating Tremendous Wang by one point, but I say we're just a bunch of smart women. And honestly, wouldn't you say Tremendous Wang is just asking to get beat? What's wrong, guys? Was Hugh G. Rection taken? It would make sense if they had a guy on the team named Wang. Our team name, when we settle on one, will be clever and awe-inspiring. We're in a flux right now. The name we used is a little too obscure and/or offensive for regulation play.

Do these tire tracks make my ass look big?*

2011-08-02T13:40:00.000-07:00

I have been thrown under the bus so many times today I'm beginning to feel like road kill. First thing this morning, before I even made it into the office, I was taking a conference call from my cell when one of the participants, who wasn't prepared for the call, tells the boss that he hadn't received any emails from me regarding what the call and his subsequent presentation would entail. That is just a big fat lie. True, the first email I sent got bounced back, but I then called his assistant personally, explained EVERYTHING to her, then resent the email to him by replying to one of his previous emails. I even have his reply thanking me! Apparently, his assistant went on vacation and didn't leave him any notes about my call.

Why am I such an easy target? Do people think, "Oh, she's just the assistant. We'll blame her." Well, be forewarned. Do not mess with Laurie Ann. I save every freaking email I think might possibly come up and bite me in the ass.

*nope, my ass is just big on its own.

Questionable Censorship and other Sunday Sundries

2011-08-01T15:50:00.000-07:00

I spent most of yesterday hanging around the house reading The Help. Everyone who highly recommended it was absolutely right. I can't stop reading...well, obviously I can because I wouldn't be typing this right now, but you know what I mean. At 6:00ish, I decided it was time to cook some dinner (actually breakfast and lunch, too) and get lunches together for the week. After that, I settled in for a night of bad television because there's nothing on and I don't have cable. But do you know what was on? For the second night in a row? POINT BREAK!!! I think you remember (or if you don't, I'm telling you now) how much I love me some Point Break. As you may also know, its 20th anniversary was this July. In several articles about this film, it has been mentioned that the F bomb is dropped 115 or so times. That's a lot for two hour movie...that just goes on and on.

Since it was on network TV, I expected a lot of censorship. What I didn't expect was the kind of censorship. Nudity? That's a given. The shot of the ex-President mooning the security cameras was blurred, as were several other shots, like the naked gals at Warchild and Bunker's house. All the F bombs, of course. The word "shit" was out, even "bullshit." That whole scene in which Johnny and Tyler wake up on the beach and he's late for the raid was cut...because he says "shit" about 20 times. Oddly, the line in which Johnny asks, "you not into kinky shit, are you Pappas?" was also cut. I think they could have just dropped the word shit, but whatevs.

But what wasn't out? Goddamn, and Jesus Christ. Apparently, shit is a dirty word (George Carlin told us so) but taking the Lord's name is vain is A-Ok! And on top of the 115 F bombs, cussing the Lord's name was their second favorite expletive. I guess the censors don't care about good ol' Christian values. I don't necessarily have an issue with that kind of cussing, mind you, but in the absence of all the other bad words, it stuck out and was kind of uncomfortable. Even with all the cutting, it still managed to be 2 1/2 hours of network television time.

In other news, it was Metal Detector day on the comics page. And I guess the ol' metal plate in head joke is still hilarious.

Who do I write like? I'll bite.

2011-07-29T11:34:00.000-07:00

After Will (aka Oslowe) and Annika posted their results, I decided to check out what the compubot had to say about my writing. I used a random sampling from my blog (about 10 posts) and four fiction pieces I've been working on. These are my results--four for William Gibson, five for Cory Doctorow, one Vonnegut, one Gaiman, and one Chuck Palahniuk. There was also one JK Rowling, but that was the post in which I talked about Harry Potter, so I'm not counting it.

I write like
William Gibson

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

Didn't William Gibson write Johnny Mnemonic? That's pretty much all I know of his writing and I won't hold it against him.

I write like
Cory Doctorow

I Write Like by Mémoires, journal software. Analyze your writing!

As for Cory, all I know about him is Boing Boing, and that he kind of looks like Drew Carey.

As for the others--Vonnegut? Gaiman? Palahniuk? Am I really that dark?

The Repairman Returneth (and fucketh with my bathroom)

2011-07-26T15:42:00.000-07:00

Remember how I went on vacation and came home to a big ol' mess left by the Frau and the plumber? Well, I went to Comic Con and returned to another mess left by the Frau and the plumber. Do you know what I love most? Getting home late at night from a vacation and scrubbing my bathroom.

At first I didn't see what they had done, but upon closer inspection, I noticed a new shower head and new knobs. The shower head still has the blue plastic coating to protect the chrome. It's a nice decorative feature so I'm leaving it. Here's the rub, as they say: The pipe that comes out of the wall is not secure, so when I tried to move the shower head the whole thing moved. Nice. There's more. The shower head piece itself is so tight that I had to grip the base firmly, then gently try to move the head to find the right position so I didn't get a full blast in the face. [wow, I just re-read that and realized how dirty it sounds...or maybe it's just me.] Oh, and the water came out is a dribble so I had to adjust that knob that is inside the head, which just makes it splash all over the place anyway. Not the pleasant shower I was anticipating. Nope, I pretty much cussed like a sailor the whole time.

I survived Comic Con 2011. But more importantly, so did my feet!

2011-07-25T16:36:00.000-07:00

I've wanted to go to Comic Con for some time now, ever since I realized it was much more than just comics. Because, you see, I'm not so much with the comic books. I love me some science fiction, though, and dystopian futures and writers of such. And, I do love cartoons--particularly adult cartoons. So, after many years of "we should go to Comic Con," I finally got to go. Four days of Nerdtastic Geektacular Fun. And 120,000 like minded friends. I may have gotten a little silly and let my fan flag fly.

Transformer head--Judy Greer loved it.

Dragon Ball Z hair

Horribly Adorable at the Dr. Horrible's Sing -a-long Blog screening

Those who have attended could probably give me some tips on how to manage this next year, but first...the lines! OMG, the lines. If you had a particular panel or screening you want to see, you'd better get in line two panels ahead of time to get in. I sat through several interesting panels while waiting for the ones I really wanted. I learned about Activision's new Spiderman and X-Men games, while listening to Katee Sackoff, Laura Vandervoort, and Val Kilmer (who had the nicest hair of the three). I learned who Jim Steranko is and how he got into comics. I saw a panel on Clone Wars, Gears of War 3 (video game), and a collection of animated shorts brought to us by Spike and Mike (though they were not Sick and/or Twisted--we missed that one). And I learned about the Wild Cards book series while waiting for Nathan Fillion and the Castle cast. I knew about George R.R. Martin because of his Song of Ice and Fire books, but I hadn't heard of the series. Now, I can't wait to read them.

Because I didn't bring my real camera and my cell kept dying, these are the only photos I managed to snag. They're not good quality.

Giant Smurfs are scary.

21 and 24 from The Venture Brothers

One of the many amazing Legos figures

Adam West!!

Christopher Moore is made of awesome.

An Ass-cracking good time was had by many.

Oh, Zyrtec. Why you gotta play me like that?

2011-07-18T16:27:00.000-07:00

All week long while I was visiting Pennystucky, I took a Zyrtec and two hits from the ol' ~~crackpipe~~ Symbicort to keep the allergies and subsequent asthma symptoms at bay. It worked like a charm for most of the time and I felt great. This morning, I woke up sneezing and decided to take a Zyrtec. I have been a groggy listless mess ever since.

I can't afford to be, though. I have six days worth of work that needs to be crammed into three days because I'm going to Comic Con on Thursday. I really needed to unpack, inventory, and then repack the branded supplies closet, but I just couldn't muster the energy to undertake that task. Instead, I started cleaning up my office, until I realized that half the stuff in my office needs to go into the supplies closet. It doesn't help that it's so cold in our offices that all I want to do is curl up with a blanket, which our promo company has so conveniently provided in my monthly sample pack. I got this adorable pen, too. Look how happy he is!

Damn, Nature. You Scary.

2011-07-15T11:51:00.000-07:00

I went to see Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part II last night at midnight. I won't ruin it for you. It was as awesome as you'd expect.

Needless to say, I was super tired this morning and didn't wake up until my internal alarm started screaming "Move your car! You'll get a ticket!!!" I leaped out of bed, tossed on some clothes, and moved my car in that dizzy half-drunk state one finds oneself after a mere two hours of sleep. Coming back to my front door, I noticed a dead pigeon on the lawn that hadn't been there a minute ago. It was right at the bottom of my stoop, barely in the grass, so I would have seen it on my way out. "That happened quickly," I thought. I saw no blood or claw/tooth marks, so I didn't think a cat got it. I also didn't see a head, which confounded me. Whatever. I stumbled back upstairs and lay on the bed a few more minutes to clear the lightheaded feeling before hopping in the shower. Thirty minutes later when I left for work, the pigeon was still there. Just as my foot was about to hit the bottom step of my front stoop, a hawk swooped down out of nowhere, grabbed the dead pigeon, and flew off in a shower of gray and white feathers. It was strangely beautiful. I get the whole Circle of Life thing, but dang, nature is cold.

Tick Check

2011-07-12T17:28:00.000-07:00

Just an observation:

I'm a single girl, have been for a very long time. And while I occasionally (rarely) enjoy the company of a man, I haven't had a steady relationship in forever. Normally, I don't dwell on it and this singleness is not something I lie awake at night thinking about. But this past week, visiting family and friends, it was hard not to think about it. See, my brother and his lovely wife have an amazing relationship, one forged from 30+ years of sticking together through good times and bad. Being with them for a week made me think "I want one, too!" the way one does after holding someone else's baby or playing with a puppy. In fact, there were a lot of husbands and wives for me to observe this week. Each relationship had its own unique quality. Some couples were young, some had been together forever, some were second marriages, some in their golden years--but all of them making it work in a way that is completely mysterious to me. One man and one woman, relying on each other, helping each other, comforting each other, and finally, marriage made sense in a way it never had before. And you know what? I'm kind of jealous.

Plus, there's always someone there to check for ticks.

Don't let me get started about the babies and puppies, though. It'll be ugly.

The Repairman Cometh

2011-07-11T09:00:00.000-07:00

The Good News:

My apartment has not been condemned. Frau and/or a qualified repairman visited my apartment while I was in Pennsyltucky having a grand time and fixed the leaks. The bathtub and kitchen sink have been re-caulked. The cracks have been spackled, and there is a fresh coat of gleaming white paint in my bathroom. Hooray!

The Bad News:

Frau and/or a qualified repairman visited my apartment while I was in Pennsyltucky leaving a big ol' mess for me to clean up. Things in the bathroom were all topsy-turvy and the tub was filthy! My plane got in at 12:01am. By the time we got our bags, it was about 12:40. Then the drive to Christina's to pick up my car, then the drive home...we're talking about 1:30am when I got to Chez Gingham. Guess what Laurie Ann was doing at 2am? Yes, scrubbing the bathtub and the bathroom floor because while I'm not the most fastidious housekeeper, I needed to shower and that tub was beyond disgusting. And I still made it to work on time.

Too tired

2011-07-09T20:56:00.000-07:00

Thursday was filled with little things, like laundry, finish knitting my sister-in-law's birthday present, blocking it, etc. It's lovely though, see?

Then, Joann and I went shopping for our day of cooking for the big weekend shindig. We went to Shop Rite, the scene of many an embarrassing shopping trip when we were kids (just ask Jo's sister). Joann loves me. She bought me Tasty Kakes Butterscotch Krimpets and Peanut Butter Kandy Kakes.

Friday, we met at the new and improved Fire Hall for the cookfest. The new kitchen is nice and we were able to spread out and get a lot done at once. However, there was a lot to be done and we were there for 5-6 hours! Our legs were killing us when we got done. But we weren't done yet. After a brief trip to WalMart, we went back to Jo's to make napkin/flatware bundles (in purple and white, the school colors). In fact, everything was purple and white right down to the serving spoons. When Joann does something, she doesn't half-ass it.

Today, the party day, we started early. I got the Swedish Meatballs going in the crock pot while Bryan and the menfolk set up the tents and Joann got the food table set up. Jo and I went back to WalMart to pick up the two 6' submarine sandwiches and the cake. After a momentary heart attack at the bakery counter when they couldn't find the cake (deep cleansing breaths), we ran back to the house. The party was a success. The food was good and plentiful. The guests were merry and many. And my introvert godson managed to come out, greet folks, and enjoy his graduation party. All in all, it was totally worth the trip.

It really is magic

2011-07-06T20:30:00.000-07:00

Dr. Bronner's Magic Soap: 18-in-1 Hemp Peppermint Pure Castile Soap with organic oils is amazing. I used it in the shower and it left me tingly clean and smelling minty fresh. Plus the bottle is covered in tiny hard to read rantings about All-One or None (whatever that means) and scripture quotes that makes for interesting bathroom reading. And it totally gets blood out of clothing (don't ask).

Visit to the Farm

2011-07-05T16:45:00.000-07:00

I drove out to my Dad's today. Wait, first of all, I got behind the wheel of my mother's old car (it's an '89 Honda) and promptly panicked about my ability to drive a stick. Never mind that I drove stick exclusively until I got Sandy a year ago. I just suddenly couldn't remember what to do. I got used to it again pretty quickly, but my starts are still a little choppy. I drove up the street, got onto Interstate 80 and then said, "Now what?" I had a brain lapse and couldn't remember how to get to my Dad's place. Never mind that I lived down the way from him on Princess Valley Road, or that I actually lived with him for the last few months before moving to LA. I just couldn't remember which exit to take and whether it was a straight shot or if there was a turn first. What's wrong with me?

In the end, I remembered. I got off I-80 and took old 209 all the way out to Kunkletown, along the same route I took when I outran the state trooper that one time in my Mercury station wagon. Then I took Kunkletown Road to the old covered bridge, turned up Trachsville Road, then Spruce Lane and onto Lonesome Lane, where my Daddy lives. (I include street names not for the locals, but for Denise, who loves to hear the names of these country roads). It was touch and go for a minute on Kunkletown Road because things have changed a bit and I didn't recognize where I was. Then I saw the old barn and the country store and knew I was going in the right direction.

Dad and I took a drive into town to pick up lunch from the nicest Subway sandwich shop ladies ever. I mean, super nice. That's Palmerton. In the window of the store was a crocheted American flag. I asked about it thinking one of the co-workers there made it. Nope, one of the local women crocheted a whole bunch of them for the shops along downtown Palmerton. As we were leaving I noticed one in every shop window. It touched my in that soft spot that I thought didn't exist anymore.

Then John Mellencamp songs started playing in my head. As we drove along, I remarked for the second time in as many days, "I forgot how pretty it all is." I apologize, Pennsylvania, for not recognizing how beautiful you are while I was living here. I'm sure by Saturday I'll be dying of LA, but for now, I am filled with nostalgia and warm fuzzies.

Happy 4th of July!!

2011-07-04T15:04:00.000-07:00

I spent mine eating red, white, and blue pancakes for breakfast, watching baby bald eagles fly around, and drinking. What more could I ask for? Except for a tick check, 'cause I feel itchy.

Here are some eagle shots for your viewing pleasure.Three baby eagles sitting in a tree.
My brother's favorite squirrel playing coy

2011-07-03T05:22:00.001-07:00

Of all the airports on this trip, I think Detroit is my favorite. They have a monorail, for Pete's sake. And real birds, finches I think, fly free.

Technically, my first day of vacation

2011-07-02T10:06:00.000-07:00

I have seven hours before I head off (not into the sunset, since I'm heading east). The hair is dyed. The shirts are dried. My shoes are tied. (hee hee, see how I went for the rhyme there?) I'm still debating red suitcase with wheels or black duffel without wheels. I think they're probably the same size, but the black duffel appears to hold more. Then again, no wheels. Hmmm...

Anywho, just wanted to let you know that I'll be mobile blogging (that's from my phone) while I'm away. Expect a lot of pictures of my family being goofy. Or the firehouse kitchen, which I'm told is spectacular (that's where we're cooking on Friday). Or maybe people in the Detroit airport (I'm sure it's a treasure trove).

Black Duffel bag wins. While it will be a bit unwieldy, it's easier to cram more into it. Also, it will be a crochet vacation...except for Evie's present which I still haven't finished. Yikes! I'll finish it before the week's out. I hope.

Last-Minute Laurie Ann

2011-07-01T23:53:00.001-07:00

That should be my new nickname. Why? Because I'm leaving on a jet plane to beautiful Pennsyltucky tomorrow and I still haven't packed. In fact, I'm still waiting for some shirts to dry. I have to dye my hair in the morning (the roots, they are scary). I have to gather my toiletries (no more than 3oz each and all in a quart-sized plastic bag). I have to decide which knitting projects to bring for that four-hour layover in Detroit. I have to charge the Kindle, the iPod, the phone, and remember to pack all the charging cords so I can charge when I'm there. I have to write down all the recipes* I need for my godson's graduation bash next Saturday. (His mother and I will be cooking, and drinking, and cooking, and probably a whole lot more drinking, for a good portion of Friday). I have to hide the good silver in case my creepy visitor, who is actually the Frau** (I got the dirt from Gladys Kravitz downstairs) decides to visit while I'm away and rob me blind. Come to think of it, I think I'll stow the computer at my friend's house. So much to do. Things are going swimmingly.

*Speaking of recipes, I wanted to make my mother's famous macaroni salad for the party. It's Legen--wait for it--dary. I was planning on making her potato salad, too. Guess what? Apparently Joanie never wrote those down. It was all in her head. I could wing it from memory. I know the macaroni salad had sliced green olives, which was my favorite part. But I think I'll see if my sister or brother wrote it down at some point. I'm almost sure Katie did.

**Speaking of creepy intruder of the old German woman kind, Gladys told me that Frau was the one who moved the mug (well, she didn't know that part, but told me she was up here). Yesterday I came home to find the hall light on. Since I never use that light, I assumed it was Frau (although still a little creeped out). Gladys told me the building codes inspector came, but didn't get to see my apartment since I wasn't home. She saw Gladys' though and made all kinds of notes about the mold, the leaks, the heater that doesn't work, the ceiling that's about to collapse, the faulty wiring...I could go on. It's a death trap (it's a suicide rap, we've gotta get out while we're young, 'cause tramps like us, baby we were born to ruuuuuun.) Anywho, the inspector was mad and told Gladys she's filing this and sending Frau a letter. She'll be back in three weeks. So, anyway, Frau came upstairs with a plumber (A Real One!!) to see what needs to be fixed before the inspector comes back. Woo Hoo!

Doesn't matter; I got a raise. I'm going to save the increase amount and move the hell out of this craptastic abode soon enough.

The nails are off, but the pounds are not

2011-06-25T13:37:00.000-07:00

Teachers, that movie starring Nick Nolte and a not-that-young-but-looks-12 Ralph Macchio, was on when I got home last night. I love that movie. It came out when I was just starting college with the firm belief that I would be a teacher one day. I wanted to be that teacher who cared about the kids and was willing to buck the system to make sure they learned. Ah, to be young and idealistic.

So, while watching that and lamenting my lost youth and innocence, I slowly picked away at my nails. Eventually, sometime around Archers of Loaf performing on Late Night with Jimmy Fallon, the last nail came off. I am typing like a pro now. Of course, my fingertips are ultra sensitive and my cuticles look like crap, but the acrylics are gone. Hooray!

Unfortunately, Thursday night's work event, which included happy hour hors d'oeuvres, and appetizers like avocado and ahi, Parmesan fries and chicken fingers, not to mention plenty of wine and champagne, did me in on the scale this morning at Weight Watchers. I gained--significantly! Well, I know a blogger who will be walking extra laps around the building this coming week. It's bad enough I'm already planning the damage I'm going to do when I go back home in a week and eat all kinds of good back-home foods.

Who knew quality workmanship could be so annoying?

2011-06-22T16:48:00.000-07:00

It's been about a month since the last time I had my nails done. I have acrylics and a month between visits means a lot of growth-- a LOT of growth.

Ordinarily, this wouldn't matter because by the time nails grow out this much, most of the acrylics are popping off anyway. Not so in my case. The guy I go to does a really great job and there is absolutely no lift at all with these tips. They are, all ten of them, firmly planted on top of my natural nails. And that's the problem. I can't afford to get my nails done anymore, not with repaying two student loans concurrently. They're too long. They are getting in the way and making typing cumbersome. I just want them off. I could, I suppose, poke and prod and try to chip them off, but that hurts. Does anyone know how to relatively painlessly (and cheaply) remove acrylic nails?

Also, I realize that I really need to moisturize my hands more. They look bad.

[Update]: The pinky nails have popped off! I'm 20% there!

A Tale of Two Harrys and a Hutch

2011-06-18T17:19:00.000-07:00

Hi. It's been a while. I know. My friend got a new job and it's been so lonely at work. (waaahhhh)

Anywho...

Last Tuesday, said friend picked me up at work around 6:00 and we zipped on over to the

downtown Central Library to see Harry and the Potters. Who? You can read about them here. They are brothers with a band who played their entire set as Harry Potter--each of them-

-one year four and the other year seven. Don't be confused; just go with it.

Harry, Year 4 (left) and Harry, Year 7 (right) with temporary drummer.

The crowd consisted of the very young, the fairly old, and every age in between, and everyone

had a great time...except the poor injured bird behind us that these nerds insisted was dead. It totally wasn't. The nerds were super nerdy--like socially awkward and everything--but the girls

they were with were cute and hip. At first we thought the girls were just using them for a ride to the show, or help with their Trig homework, but then the chubbiest and nerdiest of all the boys starts hugging and loving up one of the girls and it was kind of uncomfortable to watch.

Confused nerdy boys, and Criss giving the whole show an enthusiastic Thumbs Up!

In order to get validation, we went inside the library where I paid an overdue fine of $1.60. While I was paying and getting validation, Criss helped herself to a poster on the bulletin board. What? The show was over and I'm sure they were just going to throw it away.

The Harrys signing Criss's pilfered poster.

Afterwards, Criss and I went over to Weiland's Underground Brewery for a drink and some eats. It being a Tuesday and after 7pm, we missed any tids and bits, so we got ordered some chili, chips and dip, and a couple of beers. Then, I recognized a guy at the bar. There were only three or four people in the entire bar, besides us, so I called his name and hey, what do you know. It was Hutch, an old friend from court reporting school. Hutch and his cute friend*, Mark, joined us at our table. Mark left when the conversation turned to reach-arounds and fisting (purely innocent, I assure you), but we chatted with Hutch for a good long time.

That's Hutch on the far left.

Positively Creeptastic!

2011-06-08T17:44:00.000-07:00

So, remember back in February when I posted about someone opening the gnome door? Well, not to be all Goldilocks & the Three Bears, but someone's been in my bathroom.

Here's the sitch: I came home yesterday and the welcome mat was askew. I'm the kind of gal who likes her welcome mat to be straight so I would never have left it askew. I blamed it on the mail carrier, straightened it, and thought nothing of it. I went about my business of making dinner, popping a movie in the DVD player, and relaxing. Around 9ish, I paused the movie to go pee. It was at this time that I noticed a makeup brush on the floor. Now, I didn't put make up on yesterday, so the brush should have been nestled in the mug on the windowsill with the other brushes. I looked up at the windowsill and....THE MUG HAD BEEN MOVED!!! (cue the creepy music now) It was about 4 inches away from its original position, and I had the dust ring to prove it, which I wiped up because nothing points out ones slovenly ways like a moved mug. Also, the window had been opened and the weather stripping removed, but not disposed of-- it was left in a wad between the window and the screen. Curious.

Sufficiently creeped out, I started investigating the whole apartment. What else had been touched? Armed with my closest weapon (a butter knife), I opened the closet in the bathroom. It looked kind of empty, well, emptier than usual. I tried thinking about what had been in the closet, but for the life of me I can't remember anything specific. Maybe I HAD moved the coats from the bar to the hooks last time I was in here. I don't remember. I feel like someone is trying to "Gaslight" me.

I checked the bedroom closet, too, but saw no signs of disturbance. Still, I was uneasy. You see those news stories about women whose building managers are coming in and wearing their panties and such. Not that I suspect the Frau--her knees are really bad these days and if she climbed the stairs to my apartment, it wouldn't be to mess around in my bathroom. She'd have fixed the leaky sink that I asked her to fix nine days ago. I know her son comes over and does stuff sometimes (according to Gladys Kravitz downstairs), but I've never seen him and if it was him, why isn't anything fixed?

Now, before you all start yelling "Change your locks!" and "MOVE"*--I don't have the money to change my locks right now, and even if I do, I still have to give The Frau the key in case of emergencies. Moving? I'd love to. Does anyone know a sympathetic landlord in a not-too-bad part of town who would let me make installment payments on my security deposit? Because that's the only way I'd be able to do it. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep last night and I'm a bundle of crankiness today.

And hey, if you see any videos of me on the Internet, let me know. I mean, I checked for hidden cameras, but they're so tiny and easily hidden these days.

*I also can't report it to the police because there's no sign of forced entry, I can't say if anything was taken, and I can't really prove that anyone was in there other than my knowing that the mug hasn't been moved in months.

In which our team wins the drinking round and the Canucks win with 18.5 seconds left to play

2011-06-02T13:46:00.000-07:00

Since our regular pub was closed on Monday, we had to venture off to faraway lands to play trivia. And by faraway, I mean Silverlake. In a classic "I'll take the low road and you take the high road, and I'll be in Silverlake before ye," I asked my friend if she wanted my directions. She said, "No Thanks, I printed my own." Then, I saw her turn toward the 110 freeway and wanted to call her and tell her to turn back before it was too late, but I left my cell phone at home and I don't call when driving. I took Alvarado to Glendale to Fletcher and Riverside and arrived 20 minutes before the rest of my team.

Trivia was rough. The local Silverlake teams are particularly good and we struggled at the bottom of the pack all night. Thanks to a last minute "double or nothing," we redeemed ourselves to finish second to last. But the real win of the evening was the drinking round. The drinking round (winning teams wins a round of drink tokens) is usually something silly and arbitrary, like Apples to Apples or "draw the quiz master." Last night, however, it was "Name That Tune." Oh, man; our teams rocks! We got 8 out of 10 songs and won! However, at this venue, the drinking round is immediate and the prize is a pitcher of beer. Did I mention my team doesn't drink beer? I had a Dos Equis for myself so as not to waste the win.

And did anyone watch the Hockey game? Scoreless until the very last minute and then--BAM--Torres scores! Hip checks, finger biting--what's not to love?

What did you do?

2011-05-31T20:08:00.000-07:00

How did you spend your Memorial Day weekend?
I....

...lost three pounds.
...rescued my friend Jaclyn from a knitting emergency (p2togtbl should be outlawed).
...smashed my baby toe, which is now giant and purple and hurts like a bitch.
...knit a ton on my sister-in-law project, even though it doesn't look like I did.
...watched some movies that were so bad they were awesome. (Netflix streaming: Bear!)
...ate more pizza than I have all year (there goes the three pounds).
...and generally had a great weekend.

et vous?

Oh, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention that 24 years ago, I spent Memorial Day weekend being the Maid of Honor for my best friend Joann as she wed the love of her life, Bryan. Congratulations you crazy kids! Happy Anniversary.

Crash course in sports; or How We Plan to Win the Trivia Tournament

2011-05-24T12:27:00.000-07:00

I jinxed us. I was so amped up on hockey, that I neglected to bone up on the other four major sports. Despite having taken several sports quizzes on Sporcle, I was ill-prepared for the question "at which stadium do the Milwaukee Brewers play." We batted it about among the team (3 lovely ladies) and came up with the wrong answer. Sadly, Criss actually got it right but we voted that one down. I should really start listening to her; this is the second time she was right and I didn't listen.

We did manage to ace the round in which we had to name 9 of the 10 NFL teams whose helmets have some sort of lettering on them. Okay, we missed one, but we did have the right answer to begin with and then second-guessed ourselves. We really have to stop doing that. So, I'm setting out to become a sports expert. It won't be easy. If you have any handy mnemonic devices for remembering sports trivia, send them my way.

Check it (I'm so ready for some Hockey trivia)

2011-05-23T12:43:00.000-07:00

I love hockey! I forget how much I love it because I don't have cable and the networks really only show hockey games during Stanley Cup Playoffs. I think hockey players are some of the best athletes around. They are on the move constantly for three periods--on skates!--with sticks chasing a tiny puck. Yes, a football field is larger, but those guys take an hour to get 50 yards down the field. Sure, basketball players are on the move constantly, but they're 8 feet tall, so it's pretty much three steps from one basket to the next.* So, yeah, moving the whole time, on skates, backwards at times, with sticks, and all that equipment, getting smashed into the glass, and occasionally duking it out--on skates! I love hockey!

So, I've watched quite a bit of hockey lately. None of my favorite teams (yes, more than one; no, not the Kings) have made it to this last stretch before the finals, so I'm hoping for a Bruins/ Canucks match-up for the cup, with the Canucks taking it all. I know, not very American of me, but they have the twins! and Roberto Luongo! and they don't have these guys!

Seriously, San Jose. What's the story with those guys? Creepy!

In between watching the games and knitting my sister-in-law's birthday gift, I was looking up stats on the teams playing. Really this started because I noticed gray in the beard of Dwayne Roloson, the goalie for the Tampa Bay Lightning and wondered, "dang, how old is that guy?**" which led to "How old is the oldest player in the NHL right now?***" And so many other stats and tidbits that I'm so hoping there's a hockey question at trivia tonight. Please ask me who's won the Stanley Cup the most. Or who holds the cup right now. Or what's a Gordie Howe Hat Trick. I'm ready.

Go Canucks!!

* Don't hate; I like football and basketball, too.

**He's 41

*** Mark Recchi, 43, Boston Bruins.

Finally, someone recognizes the genius of creative answers

2011-05-18T12:34:00.000-07:00

Math has never been my strong point. I need a calculator for even simple addition. If I use paper, I physically have to "carry the one" on paper in order to add it. The only reason I know my multiplication tables is by singing the "Schoolhouse Rock" songs ("Three is a Magic Number" is playing in my head right now).

One day in the third grade, we were taking a test on multiplication. I hadn't studied and clearly hadn't memorized the three song yet, because for the problem 3 x 3 =______ , I answered "Chow chow chow." To be fair, the Purina Cat Chow ad was new back then and I do love me some commercials. Sister Cornelius was less then entertained by my answer and I was the laughing stock of my class, as well as a perpetual joke in the family (chow chow chow is always the go-to answer).

But no more, I say! My friends over at the most awesome website ThinkGeek have this little number for sale!

It's a book that celebrates creatively wrong answers. I have found my tribe. Like this one:

To all of you who have been faced with a daunting exam paper, realized you were screwed, and made the most of it anyway--I salute you! Mrs. Higgins (10th grade, Algebra II)--I take back the apology for the letter I wrote instead of answering the questions on my mid-term. You should have framed it instead. I'm sure it was some of my best work.

Urban Bear Hunters Rule #47

2011-05-11T17:17:00.000-07:00

If space is limited, air dry your bear skin on the back of your car.

(I didn't realize it was polar bear season)

Ah, romance

2011-05-10T17:26:00.001-07:00

Nothing says "I love you" like carving your names in a tree...

...in the parking lot of a McDonald's and Home Depot.

So this happened...

2011-05-06T21:04:00.003-07:00

When I turned the corner onto my street last night, this is what greeted me. That is a branch...a very large branch from one of the very large magnolia trees in front of my house. That is not in front of my house, though, as some He-man dragged it down the street to where the trash cans usually sit. The branch is the length (at least) of the two large pick-up trucks that are usually parked there. Can you see the tree behind the branch? No? That's because that branch is bigger than an actual tree!!

Please to be admiring the gaping wound on the poor old tree. That tree IS right in front of my house. Do you know what I noticed? It blocked a lot of light. Like, A LOT of light. It was kind of bright in my bedroom last night. Also note that this is right above a parking space, which was fortunately unoccupied when the break occurred (according to the runner-up for nosiest neighbor--Smoking Man*).

Other things to notice in this photo:

The fool who parked his car UNDER the trees AFTER the bough broke. I guess he's going with the "lightning doesn't strike twice..."theory.
There's an apartment for rent. Who wants to live near me at Frau Gardens? The shower doesn't work properly and the roof leaks, but the cast of characters is entertainment at its finest.

*You haven't heard about Smoking Man yet, but you will.

Who knew recycling could be so dangerous?

2011-05-02T15:03:00.000-07:00

On Sunday, I needed to get out of the house and enjoy the weather, and I desperately needed clean undies, so I did some laundry and shared a laugh with my sister via telephone. Then, I came home to find the Frau in the driveway. Rats! and me with wet shirts in my car! Quietly as possible, I unloaded my car, aired out the shirts, and grabbed the bag of recycling. I slipped downstairs like a church mouse, put the bag in my trunk, and zipped off unnoticed by Frau and Latina Gladys Kravitz, who were having a heated discussion in the driveway which they no doubt would have dragged me into had I been seen.

At the recycling center, the self-serve machines no longer take plastic bottles, which is pretty funking ridiculous considering how many things come in plastic containers these days. And naturally, the attendant was at lunch. I ran my cans and bottles through the machine and waited for the attendant to return. I was not alone. A crowd was gathering, including the harried mother of three who kind of cut in front of me. I let her slide because she had her hands full with three little ones and four bags of recycling. However, I was not budging for anyone else. I felt a little bad because I had one lousy bag of plastics (I don't buy a lot of bottled beverages) and everyone else had tons, but I figured it would just make my transaction move faster. Right about the time the attendant was returning, and everyone else had waited 20 minutes, a guy comes up and begins unloading his stuff right behind me. I politely told him, "I'm sorry, sir, but all of these people are behind me. The line is back there." To which he replied, "Bitch, you need to relax and mind your own business." If there is one thing I hate, even more than being called Bitch, it's someone telling me to relax when I am not at all worked up in the first place. Because now? NOW, I'm not relaxed. Now, I pretty pissed. However, I didn't want to get into it with him because clearly if he went for the "bitch" first thing, he has a pretty tiny fuse. So, I ignored him and moved forward inch by inch. As I got closer to the front, I noticed a man desperately shoving plastic bottles into the self-serve machine only to have them spit back out at him. I, again politely, because that's how I roll, told him, "Oh, sir, it's not taking plastic bottles. Only glass and aluminum." Then, my buddy from earlier said, "Shit, you just know everything, don't you." I turned on him so fast the guy behind him ducked, and hissed, "I am just trying to be polite and helpful. YOU should try it sometime." It was my turn next, so I got my ticket for $2.40 and left with a cheery "Have a nice day" to my new BFF in line.

Then, I went to Home Depot, where I asked a very attractive young male employee, "Where can I get some caulk?" And he told me with a straight face, which is more than I can say for myself.

I did it for my mom, mostly

2011-04-29T23:00:00.000-07:00

Two of my mom's favorite things were the Rose Parade, as previously mentioned, and all things Royal. She loved Diana, particularly, but she loved the whole British Royal family, as well as the royals of other nations, too. Mom subscribed to Royalty magazine, a UK affair that came in big glossy splendor each month. We'd look through it each month and discuss the fashions, what that wacky Sarah Ferguson was up to, how handsome Prince Felipe of Spain was, how beautiful Diana was, and how that cad, Charles, had done her wrong. Mom and I got up at the crack of dawn for Diana's wedding to Charles, and then again for the wedding of Prince Andrew and Fergie*. Which is why I felt compelled to stay up all night to watch the wedding of Prince William and the lovely Kate Middleton.** I know if Mom were with us today we'd have been on the phone with each other swooning over the simple yet elegant gown of the bride and her maid of honor, guffawing over some of those hats (I'm looking at you Princess Bea), and generally getting all misty. Plus, who doesn't love a good wedding?

*During the Andy/ Fergie wedding, Mom and I were cuddled on the sofa in the living room sipping coffee when my brother, Roy, came downstairs to head out to work. He looked at us on the sofa, looked at the TV, and shook his head muttering something about "crazy." It was classic.

**Am I the only one bothered by the fact that her name is Catherine with a C, but they call her Kate with a K? I mean, Cate Blanchett manages to make the C work for her.

It's been a WTF kind of day

2011-04-27T19:26:00.000-07:00

Besides the usual things, like work related things, on three consecutive trips to the ladies the following things happened:

Two youngish women (late teens?) entered the ladies' room with me, one of them with a baby approximately 6-9 months old. When I was washing my hands, the woman with the baby was washing the baby's feet and legs in the sink. It hadn't appeared dirty when she entered and she had been at the sink the whole time.
All of the stalls were occupied except one, which was clogged. I had to pee desperately. I wiggled and danced, and nearly wet myself waiting for someone--ANYONE--to finish and get out of there. Instead, I waited while all three women repeated flushed the toilets in tandem. I counted 4 times before I said "screw it" and went in the clogged stall.
Someone vomited in the bathroom sink and didn't attempt to wash it down the drain.

This, added to the fact that I'm back on coffee after giving it up for Lent and am feeling particularly bitchy, has made me want to carry a weapon. I think I'll use the men's room on my way out tonight.

Today I feel...

2011-04-25T12:44:00.000-07:00

...smug.

I have one of those magnetic charts in my office with the different faces (exhausted, confused, ecstatic, guilty, etc) and the frame that reads "Today I feel..." I usually leave it on exhausted or overwhelmed, but today I moved it. Here's why:

I rarely take the freeway, but for some reason I found myself turning onto the 101 this morning and it was too late to stop. Traffic wasn't so bad, or at least no worse than usual. The tricky part, and my least favorite section of the freeway, is the exit from the 101 to the 110. (see photo for non-Angelinos).

What you can't really see in this photo is the automotive ballet that is performed every day in that red rectangular section of the 110. As cars are coming off the 101 freeway, they either merge across 4 lanes to the left to continue onto to the 110, or stay to the right and exit at 3rd, 4th, 6th, or Wilshire. AT THE SAME TIME, cars already on the 110 are merging across 4-6 lanes to get to the exits on the right. It's really a miracle that more accidents don't occur on these freeways since this is not the only section in which nerves are tested and sheer luck keeps cars from colliding.

So, I was merging left onto the 110 and was safely in my lane when a mini van decided it didn't want to take the 6th Street exit after all, and swung back onto the 110, crossing the median section and causing me to brake hard and swerve slightly (out of reflex) before realizing I couldn't get into the next lane as there was a Highway Patrol Car in that lane.

"Crap!," I thought, "Now I'm going to get pulled over for unsafe driving." The CHP officer pulled up and looked over at me. I gave him my best harried-woman- on-her-way-to-work look, and guess what? He pulled forward, merged in front of me and pulled over the a-hole who cut me off. That never happens. So, yes, today I feel smug. Take that, a-hole driver who cut me off this morning. I hope you think twice before making bad maneuvers on a busy freeway during morning rush hour.

Ballyhoo too

2011-04-13T17:37:00.000-07:00

My sister lives about an hour or so north(ish) from Chicago, and usually when I'm visiting her we'll have "Sisters Day," in which we take the train into the city, have lunch, shop, get into trouble with security guards at that fountain thing with the jumbotron screen...you know, the usual. One year, Katie had a gift certificate for Ticketmaster, so we decided to see a show. As it was spur of the moment, all the good plays were sold out. It was a week too early for The Nutcracker and she wanted to save Blue Man Group for a family outing. We settled on one that looked interesting, "The Last Night of Ballyhoo." It was playing at the Mercury Theatre in about an hour. Cool! We bought the tickets and began looking for the Mercury Theatre. Where is that blasted theatre?? Finally, we discovered that it was not in the general theatre district, as we had been led to believe, but rather out of town a bit...here's a map.

That red square is downtown. Readers familiar with the Chicagoland area will realize that's kind of far away, but not unreasonable. After all, I'm not one to shy away from public transportation. So, Katie and I hopped on the L (brown line, I believe) and got there just in time. Our tickets were row A and we joked about being in the front row...and we were...in the front row. In fact, had we been any closer to the stage, my knees would have been touching it. I've had more legroom on a 747, that's how close to the stage we were. Plus, we were the only ones in that row. And to make matters worse, the action on stage moved very close to the front of the stage. There's one scene in which a piece of scenery rolls out to look like a train compartment and I swear the actors had about two feet between the scenery and my lap. It was fairly ridiculous. Oh, and the rest of the theatre patrons were all senior citizens, like a field trip from a nursing home.

Well, anyone who knows me knows you can't take me anywhere, and my sister is cut from the same cloth...hilarity ensued. We tried, really we did, to suppress our giggles. Unfortunately, the production was not good and the situation got more absurd by the minute. At intermission, we just left. The entire train ride back downtown we giggled ourselves silly about how the actors were going to come back and wonder what happened to the two women in the front row.

I related this story to my friend Denise last night as we enjoyed a glass of wine* before heading over to the Kirk Douglas Theatre for a wonderful production of "The Cripple of Inishmaan." She noted that our seats were also Row A, and I giggled at the prospect of another knee-crushing performance. Fortunately, there was considerably more room this time, although it was still close, as evidenced by this photo I snapped surreptitiously while turning off my cell phone.

But the play was great and we didn't mind the front row at all, although there was a moment with smashed eggs that made me think we'd stumbled into a Gallagher show.

*We stopped here for wine. I recommend it mainly for the hotbed of handsomeness. Seriously, it was like a casting agent had scoured the city for "handsome, older Frenchmen" and plopped them all right here. Check out the wine list. We had ourselves a full body mouthful...then giggled because we're 12. But, really, the wine was delish. We want to go back for dinner some day.

Or better yet, just don't sing in public unless you're a professional or at a karaoke bar where bad singing is expected

2011-04-11T16:51:00.000-07:00

There's this off-site employee who comes to the office about once a week to pick up and drop off paperwork. She has a very annoying voice. I know, my voice ain't exactly a choir of angels, but this voice is like nails on a chalkboard.

Today she came in singing (over and over and over): "Take meeeeee to the other side." After the third time, I vaguely recognized the tune--The Doors' "Break on Through." Over and over she sang, just that one line, in a voice like Minnie Mouse with a 2-pack-a-day habit.

Now, one of my pet peeves is people who don't know the lyrics and obnoxiously sing the wrong ones. Learn the lyrics (I mean, they're all right there on the Internet) or hum, or if we're in the car, turn up the volume. So, after 20 minutes (I wish I were exaggerating) of "Take meeeee to the other side," I wrote the following to my friend "I want to shove a grenade in her mouth. Is that wrong?"

My friend said "not at all."

11 kinds of crazy--because variety is the spice of life

2011-04-08T17:32:00.001-07:00

Yesterday I tweeted--"It's 11 kinds of crazy in the city today. Y'all be safe, okay?" And then I nearly got run over by a car in the parking lot at the Farmer's Market. I totally cussed the driver out and gave him my best Hoffman (I'm walking here!).

But anyway, I'm here to illustrate one of the kinds of crazy on display yesterday. Someone shot at one of our office windows!

Poor Celina, who sits in front of that window, was ducking and covering all day long. We're sure it happened in the middle of the night or something, this being not the best neighborhood in LA.

We found the bullet, too.

Actually, that kind of looks like stigmata. I assure you, it's a crumpled bullet. We called the crack security team at our office building, who filled out a report. They called the police, who arrived in their sharp navy blue uniforms, with the shiny badges and.....Oh, I'm back. (I do love a good uniform) The popo took a report and the bullet. Maintenance showed up and said the windows are custom and it will take a year...okay a week...to fix the window. Yeah!

I may be a bit over-extended

2011-04-07T17:55:00.000-07:00

I have a list of projects a mile long and all of them have deadlines that I'm thinking will not be met. Things I have started/ need to finish:

I have an Easter present for my sister, which is pretty much done; just needs some blocking and such. Then, there's a Mitered Crosses Blanket for Joann's birthday--Joann's birthday is April 12th. That's next Tuesday. Doesn't look promising.

And then, there's The Fiction Project--This was my Crazy talking (I have really got to get that girl in check). You have a theme, a moleskin, and free reign to fill it as you please with writing. I didn't get the notice early enough. I signed up on March 31st and the deadline is May 1st, so I pretty much have one month to fill it with fiction of my own creation. I haven't received the moleskin yet, so I'm writing on plain paper and I'll transfer it to the journal. I'm really nervous about this one, although my inner Muse (Crazy's good sister), got me writing the other night and I actually outlined a story to the end.

And then, there's a 2nd Mitered Crosses Blanket--yep, I liked the first one so much, I had to start a second in different colors.

And then, there's Maude (and then there's Maude). Side note--I've been watching some Maude on Antenna TV (5.2), and the other day they made a WPT vs. CPT joke. What?!? Then, Maude and Florida Evans* (you know, the mom from Good Times) got into a fight with their respective husbands about women being treated like property. Maude's man said, "You're always asking me to possess you." and Maude replied, "Walter Finley, I have never said that standing up and you know it." Damn, Maude. I'd forgotten how controversial that show was.

Oh, Socks!--I'm at the decrease row, but I've misplaced the directions. I know I saved them to my computer somewhere, but I haven't found them yet. So, the socks are on hold.

I've yet to figure out how to add a day of requirement somewhere in the middle of the week. Would one of you Quantum Physics types get on that? It would be like the Room of Requirement at Hogwarts, but you'd be able to add a day when you needed it.

*for those of you too young to remember, or with foggy memories, Florida was Maude's housekeeper.

50 Lashes--More Product Reviews

2011-03-20T13:56:00.000-07:00

I have no eye lashes to speak of. They are short and sparse, and getting worse as I get older, so I have spent most of my adult life searching for the magic mascara that will make my lashes look long, full, and flirty. That's not too much to ask, is it?

Because of this, I fall prey to all the gimmicks that promise to magically transform my lashes into something I wasn't born with--unlike my sister or this girl back home, Chris Colson (Hi Chris!) who has lashes like Mr. Snuffleupagus (without mascara). I usually use two (or more) brands of mascara to get the look I want, including a primer coat.

The latest gimmick? Rimmel London's Glam Eyes Day 2 Night mascara. They promise two brushes--one for volume and one for length-- but it's actually just the same brush with two caps. Unscrew the black cap and you get a ton of mascara on the brush (volume). Unscrew the pink cap and it pulls the brush through a smaller tube, effectively wiping off most of the mascara (length). Those of you familiar with higher end makeup will note that this is the same idea as MAC's Haute and Naughty mascara.But it's half the price! MAC is $18; Rimmel is about $9. I really like this mascara, even if it's a little clumpy at first. I use the volume brush first, then follow up with the length brush to separate my lashes. It worked great. I got volume and length and my eyes popped (I used Extreme Black). Now, when it came time to remove it, that's another story. It took two applications of makeup remover to get it all off.

Do you have lash issues? Here are some other brands that I find give me some results.
Maybelline Volum' Express Falsies (good volume and length)
Maybelline Lash Stiletto (length)
Maybelline XXL Extensions (passable volume)
L'Oreal Double Extend (has a primer; passable length)
Rimmel London Sexy Curves (curls, and some length)
Cover Girl Exact Eyelights (used as a topcoat--it's sparkly!)

and for a little more money:
Lancome Definicils Precious Cells (with two-sided brush)
Fresh Supernova (at Sephora)
Bourjois Volume Glamour Ultra Curl (although I can't find it anymore)

What do you use?

Consumer Product Testing--I take the bullet so you don't waste your money

2011-03-19T19:33:00.000-07:00

Consumer Product Testing Time!!!

Today I had a full day. I needed to dye my hair (roots only look good on plants), get my nails did, and get prettified for a fundraising event at 2pm. I got the mani/pedi first. While I was in that complex (West Hollywood Gateway), I stopped at Target, which brings me to my first Consumer Alert!!

Don't buy pantaloons at the Hanes Outlet at the Citadel!!! Seriously, I almost bought panties there last night for $8.99 a pack (of 3). I decided that I didn't want to spend my money on them because I needed something dressy for today. At Target, I found the exact same pack of 3 for $5.99! PLUS, I found a pack of 6 on clearance for $5.99! I know Target is known for being cheaper, but doesn't outlet usually mean discounts? I now have 6 brand-new panties and $3 in my pocket.

[photo courtesy of Clairol.com]

I have been dying my own hair since...well, for a long time. Nice and Easy, #118, has been my color of choice for years. Sure, I may experiment with other brands, and there was that year I flirted with being a red-head, but I always come back to the Nice and Easy Natural Medium Brown. So, recently, they changed to this foam formula. It's the wave of the future! It's easier to get full coverage! It sucks so much balls!! First, it smells like burnt coffee, at least MY color did. It even looked like coffee before I dumped the contents of bottle one into bottle two. The foam is like that foaming hand soap--but coffee scented. You squeeze it into your hands, rub them together, and run it through your hair. There's a line on the bottle that tells you how much to use if you have long or short hair. For long hair, they recommend using the whole bottle, which I did. Normally, I only do the roots, but since this is a new dye and I was unsure of the color (it's 5 instead of 118, but still medium brown) I did all of my hair. I rinsed and rinsed, then conditioned and rinsed again. I wrapped my hair in a towel and proceeded to get dressed and do my make-up. When I unwrapped my hair to dry and style, it was super dark...at least part of it was. As I began drying, it became clear that not all of my hair had taken the dye. The top of my head is dark brown, the tips are dark brown, in between is kind of a variegated blend of light to dark. I am waiting patiently until I can dye it again, but I'm torn between using Nice and Easy again, or trying another brand. And, if I do use Nice and Easy again, should I use the same color or try the light shade. It's really dark, but my hair tends to lighten up a lot in the sun. What do you think, Internet??

I have two more products to review for you, but this one took a while. I'll tell you about those tomorrow.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

2011-03-17T12:12:00.001-07:00

I look like I've already been drinking, but no, that's just my regular getting-older-by-the-second face.

I'm currently drinking green Kool-aid from a green mug, writing with a green pen. I may have gone a little overboard.

A Funny Thing Happened on My Way to an Oil Change

2011-03-15T21:50:00.000-07:00

I took Sandy to the Nissan dealership to get an oil change on Saturday. It has been 8 months and 5000 miles since I bought her but this was my first visit to the dealership for service. I handed the keys to my service guy and went inside to watch cartoons and knit. About an hour later, one of the service folks called my name and I went to his office area to, I thought, pay for the repairs. He asked me for my license and insurance. "That's peculiar," I thought, but didn't say anything because for all I know, that's how they do things. He's all typity-type-type on his computer and then he says, "Okay, you'll be driving one of my favorite cars, so be good to her. Your car should be ready on Tuesday." What?? "Whooaaaaa, what's wrong with my car?" I asked. It turns out I had some leaky gasket or seal or something. But the good news is it was all covered by warranty, including the rental. And what a sweet ride it was. I named her Phoebe. She's a 2011 Nissan Maxima, in Ocean Gray with all the bells and whistles--push button start, leather seats, leather wrapped steering wheel, power adjustable lumbar support, tilt/telescope steering wheel, stereo controls on the steering wheel, hands-free phone, dual a/c controls, kick ass stereo, auto-dimming rear view mirror, compass on rear view, and much more. Check her out.
But I got Sandy back today and you know, I missed her. She's my girl all the way. And the dealership gets high marks all around for customer service, even if they did reset my stereo and I had to find all my radio stations again. Boo!

Humor in the midst of chaos

2011-03-03T16:22:00.001-08:00

My day was non-stop, action-packed hell from the second I pulled out onto Sunset Blvd, so I have been feeling stabby all day long. Like, seriously stabby, as in "the next person who comes into this office and asks me for something is getting a fork in the eye." I knit for an hour, then drove to Ralphs and indulged in a gigantic salad with lots of crunchy vegetables in it. I feel much better now.

Here are two funny conversations that went a long way in improving my day:

Scene: Crabby woman is answering phones at the receptionist desk. Heterosexual male employee comes traipsing into the lobby singing.

Ken: "I feel pretty, oh so pretty, I feel pretty and witty and fun..."

Me: "Those aren't the lyrics."

Ken: "I didn't want to say I feel gay."

Me: "yeah, 'cause singing 'I feel pretty' doesn't already say that."

Scene: Group of employees standing around pouring Nestea drink mix packets into bottles of water.

Christina (to young male co-worker): "Careful! Once you get the tip wet, you'll never be able to pull it out."

Gales of laughter ensued, followed by "ain't that the truth."

Have you met Ted?*

2011-03-02T18:35:00.000-08:00

Whether you speak for the trees,

or live in a pocket,

have stars on your belly,

or drive like a rocket**...

It's Dr. Suess's birthday!!!

(that's my poem; don't knock it.)

Now go read something good, preferably rhyming...with pictures.

*His first name is Theodore.

**also, yes, I know that P.D. Eastman wrote "Go, Dog, Go" but I like it and it's part of the Beginner readers with the Cat in the Hat logo, so...***

***yeah, I know...there are many Dr. Seuss books to choose from but you get the point, right? Sheesh.

Because who doesn't love a good Mad Lib

2011-03-01T15:49:00.001-08:00

Do you know your noun from a gerund? Are you familiar with supernatural creatures, Greek mythology, and science? Have you been following the insanity that is Charlie Sheen's meltdown?

Why not have a rant of your own? Click here for a bit of Mad Lib fun. Feel free to share yours in the comments. I'll share mine tomorrow.

Strange things are afoot at Chez Gingham

2011-02-24T16:26:00.000-08:00

Oh, where to begin...you remember my gnome doors? Those doors that lead to nothing (or something--I'm afraid to investigate)? Well, the one on the outside bathroom wall leads to pipes. This much the Frau established on one of her visits. The one in the bedroom closet probably leads to someone's head, but the ceiling door--the SEALED ceiling door must lead to some kind of attic space. Right? I wouldn't know as it has never--NEVER--been opened the whole time I've lived at here, which is 11 years. In fact, the ceiling door was painted shut, the hook-and-latch lock painted over as well.

Then, this morning, as I was steaming my sweater and waiting for a good head of steam to build, I looked up at the ceiling thinking, "It's time to clean up those brown spots again," when I noticed it. THE DOOR IN THE CEILING HAD BEEN OPENED!! When, I don't know, but sometime in the past month someone (or something) has been tampering with that door. How do I know? Well, for one thing, the painted-shut lock is no longer painted shut.

Pardon the bad cell phone photo. You see the rust spot where it's been pulled out of it's loop? Then, there are the finger marks...yes, finger marks!!

Finger marks that appear to be coming from inside that door!!!! I know!!!

Yeah, so if that's not creepy enough for you, how about this. A few nights ago, I was awake at 3:00am and reading in bed with my Kindle and a book light. Suddenly, my bedroom door rattled the way a door does when a vacuum is formed by another door opening somewhere in the apartment...the apartment in which I live alone...with no windows open...at 3AM! I turned the bedside light on and stared at the door for an hour until I fell asleep. And THEN, the next morning, as I was leaving, I noticed the deadbolt on my front door was UNLOCKED! I always (obsessively) double and triple check that before I go to bed.

My friend Amber is convinced I have a split personality and my alter ego, Rebecca, is a party girl who wears blue eye shadow. She also thinks Rebecca's lover enters and leaves through the window in the bathroom closet (don't ask; this house is bizarre) and hides in the attic when I come back to being Laurie Ann. I want to know how Rebecca is getting some and I'm not. Amber wants to call the Ghosthunter people to come and scope out my house.

My other fear, since I had to leave a key for the Frau to fix my bathtub faucet, is that someone got a hold of that key and is coming in and...Yikes! That's just too creepy a thought to complete. But my faucet is not fixed, so I know it's not the Frau. I think a new lock is in order. And then a new apartment. THAT'S what I should have spent the insurance money on...security deposit.

Oh well, live and (never) learn.

Easy Come, Easy Go

2011-02-21T22:56:00.000-08:00

So what did I do with my sudden windfall? Well, first, I was responsible and paid a bunch of bills, even getting ahead on the car payments. I can officially park on my own street...if I can find a spot. It's been a bitch this week because the city had temporary "no parking" signs up on surrounding streets. But what does a gal do after being responsible? She buys herself something pretty. Or several things pretty--like a new handbag, some crafting supplies, a new iPod--you know, the usual.

Oh, and I put some in savings so that I have some cushion, but mostly (come on, it's me) I spent it.

It's things like this that make me believe in divine intervention

2011-02-10T21:39:00.000-08:00

To say money is tight at Chez Gingham would be an understatement. On Tuesday I sold the remainder of my formerly vast CD collection to my good friends at Amoeba in order to cover the outstanding checks I had written and make a car payment. Since I'd already sold off the really good stuff, I didn't get as much as I had hoped, so the car payment is still outstanding.

Imagine my surprise when I checked the mail box and saw a check from Mercury Insurance. I haven't had Mercury Insurance for over two years, so I couldn't imagine why they were sending me a check. "Probably overpaid a bill or something," I thought. "It'll be about $3." I opened the envelope and nearly peed my pants. (I had to go already, lest you think I'm THAT excitable) The check was quite sizable. Like four digits sizable--before the decimal!

Back in March 2007, Jamie and I had a little fender bender in a Starbucks parking lot. I never got around to getting her fixed, so I told Mercury to send the claim money directly to the loan company. Apparently, they didn't do that. And now that Jamie is sold, the loan company squared away, the claim money is all mine!!! I can get up to date with my car payments, pay my registration, my past due parking tickets, and still have money left over. Oh, Happy Day!!

Thanks, God! Thanks, whichever angel whispered in his ear. I'm thinking my mom had something to do with it. I've been talking to her a lot lately.

In which I sound like Joan Rivers

2011-02-08T09:49:00.000-08:00

Can we talk about gas prices? No, I'm not going to rant about how high they are; that is what it is. No, I'm just boggled about the fluctuation in prices around town. After I sold my CDs along with my pride to pay some bills, I went to put gas in the car. Mobil at Santa Monica and Vine has premium gas at $3.79. Valero down the street is at $3.69. 76 on Santa Monica, about five blocks from Vine, is at $3.59. I went with 76. I then drove to my friend's house and noticed prices as high as $3.99 for premium. Granted the highest prices were on the west side (Beverly Hills especially), but the first $3.99 I saw was on Highland. Can someone else a difference of 40 cents for what is essentially the exact same thing? While you're at it, can you explain why the exact same deodorant I buy at the 99Cents only store costs $3.50 at Rite Aid? And why anyone would pay full price when you can get it for $1. Or better yet, just explain the entire economic system. Apparently I am dumb.

And another thing...how hard is it to remember what floor you were on and what floor you're going to when entering an elevator? Is there a brain wave interference when entering elevators, like there is with cell phones? I can't tell you how many times a day I get on the elevator with an entire family (because one person only cannot run an errand, it takes a village) who then proceed to push all three parking buttons, look around when the doors open, decide it's not their floor, repeat at each floor, then push L and start all over again. OR, they enter on the ground floor and want to go down to the parking deck. Really? You can remember that you already came down to the lobby? I just want to run out and get a coffee for the boss, people. I don't have time for your shenanigans. And no, the consulate is no longer in this building.

Now, get off my lawn.

Shamelessly promoting

2011-02-04T15:03:00.000-08:00

Do you live in LA?

Do you like stand-up comedy?

Are you free on Saturday, February 19th?

If the answer to these questions is yes, yes, and sadly, yes...why not join us at the House of Blues' Voodoo Lounge for a night of comedy to benefit Woodcraft Rangers, one of LA's largest non-profit providers of after school enrichment programs for at-risk youth. Just $35 dollars (That's cheaper than a movie!) gets you dinner and a show, with at least three (possibly more) comedians including Jeffrey Garcia, star of his own Showtime and Comedy Central specials, as well as the voice of "Sheen Estevez" on Nickelodeon's Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius.

For tickets, go HERE. 100% of the proceeds go to after school programs to keep at-risk youth engaged during the crucial hours of 3-6pm. And don't you want to keep them engaged?

I.M. Smart

2011-01-27T19:23:00.000-08:00

Do you ever surprise yourself with how smart you are?

I do, all the time. Now, I know that for the most part I'm a fairly intelligent woman, but I don't always give myself credit. You see, I have so many smart friends and acquaintances that I just don't think I compare. They've done things. They've been places. They speak so much more eloquently than I do. I'm probably selling myself short, but I often just sit in a corner and feel dumb.

But not this week, no sirree. I'm solving crises left and right over here. And I just solved a great mystery involving years of billing invoices, matching product to paperwork, FINDING the product to begin with and many other things that have, until now, been unsolvable. I looked at the puzzle, put two and two together and came up with "Ta Da!" I felt like a genius being the one to figure it all out.

Then, I was asked by no less than three people to define a word I used in casual conversation, which truth be told made me feel a little pretentious, but they weren't big words, folks.

I know, it's not quantum physics, but I'll take my little victories where I can get them.

A Cautionary Tale for Knitters Everywhere

2011-01-15T16:07:00.000-08:00

I started a pair of convertible gloves last January. They were to have a flap attached that makes them convert into mittens. The pattern looked easy and I was in need of some tipless gloves. I started and got to just before the fingers start, and then things happened. I put them aside. Actually, I carried the project around for a while , then put them aside. But, as previously mentioned, I'm in a fingerless glove knitting kick and decided to finish them. Here they are:

Right glove:
Left glove:
Now, if you know anything about knitting, or if you have eyes and some idea of scale, you may be thinking to yourself, "hmmm, something's a little off. They don't seem like the same size."

and you would be absolutely right.
They're like big sister and little sister. You can tell they're in the same family, but not quite a pair. I've learned a valuable lesson--If you're making a matching pair of something, make them one after the other and jot down notes. Otherwise...

Got cold hands? Need fingerless gloves?

2011-01-13T22:37:00.001-08:00

I'm on a fingerless--well, technically, tipless--gloves kick these days. It started Christmas Day when Jaclyn's mom requested that her daughter knit her a pair. Jaclyn was afraid, but I assured her that there's nothing to it and that she most certainly had the skills, plus I would guide her every step of the way. So, when I got home, I looked up a mess of patterns on Ravelry. I found one that was particularly intriguing with a sideways knit row (it's called a lateral braid). I had to learn how to do this amazing trick. And so, I cast on.Pay no attention to the corpse hands I borrowed to model them for the photograph.

Anyway, with this pair finished and in the mail to my lovely sister-in-law (Hi Evie!), I looked around for yarn to cast on along with Jaclyn, so that I could show her side-by-side. Turns out, she didn't need it. That Jaclyn took to double pointed needles like a duck to water. And size 2, mind you! So, I finished up a glove I started last winter, and am almost done with the second glove. THEN, I'm going to cast on for the same gloves that Jaclyn's making, mainly to help her, but also because I like the pattern (Hooray for me gloves).

So, with all these gloves going on, I ask you--Do you need some fingerless gloves? Let me know. I'll make you a pair.

Yes, Frau. I live in squallor.

2011-01-12T15:11:00.000-08:00

The Frau has not come to replace my faucet yet. I expected her on Monday, but she didn't show. I thought, "She'll come Tuesday," but still no Frau. In anticipation of the Frau visit, I clean up a bit, and make sure there are no dishes in the sink from breakfast because, you know, she lectures. I also lock my bedroom door because, you know, she's nosey.

Today, I was running super late. I made some lunch quick (beans and rice), tossed the pot and measuring cup in the sink, and ran out the door. I remembered the dishes and open bedroom door on my way to work and actually contemplated turning around. If I didn't have to open the office today, I might have.

Consistency, people.

2011-01-11T12:27:00.000-08:00

I was watching "The Patty Duke Show" last night. Cathy, the identical cousin, was tutoring some star athlete named Elliot, aka "Stretch." Stretch has to pass his history exam or he can't play in the big Basketball tournament. Basketball--you'd expect that from a fellow named Stretch, right? So, Cathy is tutoring and trying to help him remember things and Stretch is all, "It's no use. I'm just stupid." Cathy says, "No, you're not. You remember all those plays." So Stretch gets some paper and shows her how each play has a number and he just remembers the numbers and the moves that go with it. Cathy gets the brilliant idea to make historical facts like his playbook and they're off.

[bear with me; I'm coming to my point]

When they show Patty their progress, Cathy says to Stretch, "#77, Hut." He gives her the answer. Then she calls another number followed by "hut." Now, I'm not the most sports minded gal, but isn't "hut" usually associated with football? And then, when they're done showing Patty and everyone is impressed, Stretch says, "That's great here, but who's going to quarterback for me during the test?" Pick a sport!

Oh, and this isn't really a consistency thing, just a moral one. When Mr. Lane asks Cathy if she was helping Stretch cheat, she says no, she's just helping him remember the facts--by telling him which facts to remember. That's still cheating in my book. Shame on you, Cathy.