Did you say sleds? We got sleds...

The helpful folks at GMail offer website suggestions based on email content. For instance, a recent email to my gals at school mentioned the Flexible Flyer sled. On the sidebar of my Gmail, were no less than five websites where I might purchase a new sled, plus a quote of the day regarding sleds (not Rosebud, though). At first, I thought it was neat, kind of like HAL was reading my thoughts and anticipating my needs. Then, it became kind of creepy. I mean, what if I was discussing a feminine itch. Am I going to get a list of websites for purveyors of Monistat? Now I find it downright invasive and annoying. Yo, G, quit reading my emails! I'm not funding a terrorist group or planning any sorts of civil disobedience. I'm talking about studying for my English final and eating lunch. Oooo...saucy stuff, G. Get a life and read your own damn emails.

And a side note to G's buddies at Netflix: Just because I occasionally like a weepy romantic comedy does not mean I want to see EVERY romantic comedy. I know what I want to watch and I don't need your friendly recommendations, thanks.


This blog needs more pictures. I need to get a power cord and add more visual aids. Until then, enjoy this photo of an angry cat. Doesn't it remind you of the martian in Bugs Bunny cartoons?

The joy of a predominantly male workplace

As previously mentioned, there are drawbacks to being one of three women in an predominantly male workplace. The first, of course, is the sharing of a bathroom. Aside from the pee on the toilet seat (which has ceased since Eric quit), there is the empty toilet paper roll, the odor, the inability to put a paper towel in the trash can, etc, etc. What gene are men lacking that prevents them from having the basic motor functions required to change a roll of toilet paper? They all say "it's not me" and yet every time I go into the bathroom the roll is empty and there's an unwrapped roll of TP on the tank lid. Three women, 15 men--do the math.

The second drawback is, well, no matter how hard the HR department tries to prevent these things...there's porn. I'm not shy when it comes to nudity, but really, do I need to see women in various poses having you-don't-want-to-know done to them every time I go downstairs? It's not like I'm offended as a woman or feel that it's objectifying us or any of that feminist crap; it's just not something I need to see at 9:00 in the morning. And that's just the straight porn. We gots the gay porn too. Name a fetish, it's fully represented here.

Next, and this one is just universal, you can't be in a bad mood without it being "that time of the month". No, it's not that time of the month. It's the fact that I have to babysit all y'all that puts me in a bad mood every day.

Of course, it's not all bad. At least I never have to change the water cooler bottle.

How I Stole My Own Car

One night back in Pennsyltucky I was at a bar on Main Street in Stroudsburg with my boyfriend. We got into an argument (big surprise) and drove off together in his car to talk it out, leaving my car parked in front of The Chop House.
Now, there is no parking on Main Street after 3:00 am, and they had started towing cars by the time Jon and I got things straightened out. We drove back to Main Street to find my car gone and the guy from the tow company loading another car onto the rollback. I asked the guy if I could get my car right then, but he said I'd have to go to the impound lot in the morning and pay $40 to get it back.
I was already upset because of the aforementioned fight, so I was not in the mood to have Toothless Ted tell me I'd have to pay $40 to get my car. Jon suggested we drive by the impound lot to see if we could talk to the boss. Well, at 3:45 am, Toothless Ted was the only one around, and he was busy with up on Main Street. The lot gate was wide open. The temptation great. My blood alcohol level way past the legal limit.
I got out of Jon's car and slowly approached the open gate, glancing nervously around for a guard dog. Seeing none and hearing no barking, I entered the impound lot. My poor little Chevy Sprint was sitting all by itself under the lone spotlight with nothing impeding its drivability. (no boot, no chains, nothing). I guess T.T. was going to get all the cars in the lot before securing things for the night. I looked at Jon with a "Should I?" and he gave me an emphatic nod. I hopped in, and quickly drove off the lot, thus saving myself $40 in towing fees, plus whatever else they would have charged me for storage, and only paid the $8 parking ticket.
Yes, I drove drunk, but it was only over the interborough bridge at nearly 4am in a podunk town with virtually no traffic. All's well that ends well.

Stay tuned for my tales of my misspent youth...

Really Vivid Sex Dream

I don't know if it was the sinus medication or what, but last night I was getting busy with a man, who shall remain nameless, and it was goooood. So you can imagine my disappointment when I woke up this morning fully expecting to find him next to me only to realize it was a dream. Dang! It was so realistic, and SO good. And hung like a Clydesdale. Why I dreamt of this man, whom I have not slept with in real life, by the way, I do not know, but if I ever do get the chance, let me tell you, I will jump on and ride him like I'm going somewhere. If he's even 1/4 as good as the dream, shoot, it'll still be great. Of course he's probably a jerk in the sack and hung like a squirrel.

On a totally unrelated note, Mr. Man just handed me a newspaper clipping about the postal rate increase and said "The price of stamps went up. We'll need to buy some 2-centers". Apparently I was raised by wolves, live in a cave and am too stupid to watch a newscast. Good thing I have him here to keep me informed.
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So that's what happened to my pink bra

Good Ol' What's His Name

Three times today I was talking with someone and could not for the life of me think of that person's name. The first was a Label guy who'd popped in to see the boss. I deal with this man all the time. We talk, we laugh, and every damn time I wait for someone else to call him by name because I cannot think of it. You can get away with it if you're speaking one-on-one, but then he asked me to forward an email to him. I said, "oh, sure", and then struggled to recall his name for 30 minutes until he left the offices and I asked the boss.
Next, a friend of the boss called and said, "Hey Laurie, Happy New Year. Is he in?" I put Mr. Friend on hold and told the boss, "um, someone whose voice I recognize in on the phone for you". Yep, that's me. I'm a professional.
Lastly, a man who used to work at a label, I think, or maybe at a store, maybe...I don't know, but he looked familiar and he acted like he knew me and said, "oh Hi. Haven't seen you in a while. How's it going?" so I had to stop and talk to him and pretend I knew him and cared about what's been going on in his life. I asked around. No one recognized this guy. I'm thinking he got me confused with someone else. Don't you wish you could be honest in these situations and say, "I'm sorry, who are you?" without hurting that person's feelings?

That reminds me of a story. A former roommate and minion of Satan told me an anecdote about her run-in with a certain rock star who, up until she tried to take his picture without asking, had been very friendly to her. She was a waitress at Canter's and this man was a frequent customer. Anywho, she tried to take his picture, he got pissed and the next time he came in she said, "Hey ****, How's it going?" and he looked her straight in the eye and said, "Do I know you?". This story still gives me chills because I can totally imagine this guy doing it with this look in his eyes that said "you screwed up, lady. We could've been friends." And I kind of wish I had that kind of nerve and that kind of clout, because only the truly famous and/or incredibly good looking can get away with that level of coldness.

And that reminds me of a conversation I was having once with Jill Mrakovcich, yes, I'm naming names, on our way back from a school choir concert. I was trying to describe the feeling of hitting the highest note in the Hallelujah chorus from The Messiah at the Stabler Arena where bands like Soundgarden have played (it's a choir thing) and the beyotch looked at me and said, "I think I'd understand it better if you just shut up". Now, let me tell you, Jill was not famous or incredibly good looking, but she got away with it because I was too stunned to fight back. I mean, seriously. That is just cold. I can handle a lot of insults, but someone says "Shut up" and I'm defenseless as a newt. Oh, now I'm mad. If any of the other Mraks are reading, like they would be, y'all are cool, but not Jill.

(this post has no meaning, just words and a tune--paraphased from Elton John)

Another year, Another opportunity missed

First, let me just quote an email from Bossman on Monday, after he specifically told me on Friday that he wasn't coming in and neither should I. "are you in?" Seriously.

So, this was the first year in several that I wasn't at the theater on New Year's Eve. I should have called to see what was happening? Was anyone there? Was there drinks to be had? No, instead I sat like a lump on the sofa trying desperately to find something decent on TV, then falling asleep with my knitting in my lap. Am I 80? Good God, save me from myself.

I'm blaming the rainy weather and PMS for my lethargy. I'm hoping the new year and the sunshine will lighten my mood.
Here are some things I would like to do this year (but don't call them resolutions because that sounds so, well, resolute).

• Save money. Aside from a trip I plan to take, I have additional expenses now and I need to stop spending frivolously. With two "three-check" months this year, I plan to put at least one whole paycheck away in my super-secret savings account.
• Move into an apartment that has heat, laundry facilities on the premises, a landlord/building manager who isn't a pain to deal with.
• Get a pet. Yes, I have allergies, but I've always had allergies and I've spent my life with pets. The only reason I didn't have them here was because I worked two jobs. I don't now, so maybe a kitten? Dare I dream for a pooch? Hell, I'd settle for a guinea pig. (I promise I won't kill it this time)
• Go out and meet new friends. I love my boys but let's face it, I'm older than all of them, girlfriends don't trust the single, old, chubster hanging around, and it's not like we do a lot anyway. I will join something. I will make things happen.
• See some live shows. I haven't seen a band live in, well, I can't tell you how long. I work in the music industry. You'd think I'd at least see a band now and then. (like the Neighborhood Bullies, with that cute fella who keeps giving me fliers and asking me to come).
• Send birthday gifts on time. My poor nieces and nephews have been so patient for so long.
• Eat better and that's all I'm saying.
• Spend my birthday with friends or family or someone I love, but certainly not alone. (it's Thanksgiving this year, too)
• Ditto for Christmas
• Have someone to kiss next New Year's Eve

So, that's it for me. How about you?