Try to keep up...it won't be easy.

This is how my mind rambles--on and on and on...
I had a blog post in mind. I thought about it on the freeway this morning. You see, a highway patrol car merged in behind me when I got on the 101 and every single driver who saw him SLOWED DOWN. People, it's 8:30am and we're going 20 miles an hour, tops. What's he going to nail you for? Use your turn signals like you were raised properly and get on with the business of driving.
But my mind, what with its endlessly spinning cogs, thought of the time back in Pennsyltucky when I totally outran a State Trooper (Dukes of Hazzard style) on the back roads of Saylorsburg. See, I had an expired inspection sticker...in Pennsyltucky you have to get your car inspected every year and it can't have anything wrong or you don't pass (unless you go to an unscrupulous inspection station) and then you can't renew your registration, which when I left cost $35 no matter what you drive--go ahead, Californians, cry...and I was going to regale you with that story because it's a good one. Oh, I'm a smooth talker and did I mention I was driving a manual transmission STATION WAGON? Hells to the yeah.

But then, I started instant messaging my nephew, The Roy, and MySpace came up in conversation, which led to contact with the past and finding out things about your ex, which reminded me of the rat bastard who broke my heart, which stirred up all kinds of feelings of inadequacy, but not really...because in reality, he got the shit end of the break-up stick. (and he knows it, which makes me happy) So, after Roy logged off (he is three hours ahead, after all), I started Googling people from the burg, because I get all sentimental sometimes. Shut up. I do too. So I looked up the ex (nothing), his wife (nothing), her sister (nothing), my old roommate (thousands of possibilities, but his last name is Smith, so that's expected), and a boy named Jeff (okay, he's a man now) who I used to be close to, who always made me laugh with his very dry sense of humor. I found his name mentioned on a blog of a guy who lives in the Allentown area (close enough) and saw a picture of a guy who could be Jeff, maybe, but last time I saw him he was 21 and had long hair and a cute little turned-up nose that prevented him from looking evil. Boy, he hated it when I would point that out.

Yep, that's what I was going to blog about until "Medium" came on TV. See, Allison (the mom) was shopping for a fancy dress for her oldest daughter (Ariel) and stumbled upon a murder scene. The next day at school, all of Ariel's friends were asking her questions about the murder ("was it bloody?") and Holy Crap, that's exactly what Amy Miller asked me the day after I found my neighbors murdered and my name was in the paper. And I thought about the murders and the stupid questions I got from people at the ESYA sports banquet, which I had to leave early because they were serving spaghetti and, well, nuff said. So, yeah, I was going to tell you all about the murders, but then I realized that most of my friends have heard the story and it's long and if you really want to hear it you can ask me and I'll tell you but it's hard to put into writing because...I RAMBLE.

Phew. And that's just a portion of my thoughts. It's a wonder I can get any work done during the day. But I do.

I think the email is breaking up with me

In sending out a gazillion (yes, that many) emails about the same thing today, I received the following error message:

Hi. This is the qmail-send program at dom20.ipowerweb.com.
I'm afraid I wasn't able to deliver your message to the following addresses.
This is a permanent error; I've given up. Sorry it didn't work out.
But, can we still be friends?

More error messages:

(user is ambiguous) Too much information?

You do not have permission to send to this recipient. Well, excuse me, Your Highness.

The message reached the recipient's e-mail system, but delivery was refused. That just hurts.


PS...don't you love " Toothpaste For Dinner"? If you don't, you should. It gives us such gems as this.

When idols disappoint

Oh, Natalie Dee...You're usually so original.
But remember back in December when I posted this?

All was not a total loss, however. I bought this.

It makes oinking sounds while a blue light shines out of its nose.


Then Natalie Dee posts this just a few days ago:

The simple joys of Hollywood

The city, not the industry.

I went to Ralphs on 3rd to recycle my cans and bottles for some lovely spending money (in the form of a voucher) to spend on dinner. Woo Hoo! Livin' large! The recycling center closes at 4:30. I arrived at 4:25 and was done by 4:31...I'm THAT good. While I was hastily depositing cans and bottles down the chute, I noticed an odd woman standing there, looking around as if she were deposited here by some teleportation device. She was dressed in a long sleeve shirt, a fleece jacket, hat and boots. Were you outside today? Hello, 90 degrees.

As is my luck, crazy lady decided I looked like a safe person to follow around. Every time I turned a corner, there she was. I got in line, and even though there was a shorter line next door, she was right behind me with her tub of butter and Gold Bond medicated something or other. Then, she began the conversation. Not with me, mind you, she was talking to (pick one) other personalities? The mother ship? Patrick Swayze? And quite the lively conversation it was, too.


My next stop in Crazy Town was CVS. I was there yesterday, but I forgot tampons. I was about to pull into a spot when I saw a guy peeing (because there's always a guy peeing somewhere in this town), so I quickly swerved and pulled into a spot down the aisle a bit. In the store, I was carefully contemplating the high cost of feminine hygiene (seriously) when the peeing man came up to me (because they always do) and said, "Now make sure you pick the right one."
"Yeah, Okay," I replied without looking at him.
"Because you don't want to get (incomprehensible slurring)..." said peeing man.
"Really?" I said looking him right in the bloodshot eyes. "You want to fuck with me?"
He walked away. Smart man, because this is my second time in a month and my hormones are not very accommodating to crazy.

Then I came home and my back yard neighbor was trying to teach his dog how to skateboard. The dog, a wise terrier mix, flatly refused to participate in such folly, preferring instead to sniff around the trash cans. Good Dog.

And that's how I spent my Sunday. How about you?

And your point is?

While looking up moving companies today, I found this little tidbit from Hercules Vanlines (that's right, I'm naming names)

Moving to or from Los Angeles ? Thank you for considering Hercules Van Lines relocation services for your upcoming local moving or long distance moving. This site is packed with useful information about our company’s moving services.

Total transformation is the Los Angeles style. Just two hundred years ago this place sheltered hunter-gatherers who danced the porpoise dance. Within sixty years they were trampled by Latinos and their half million cattle. Thirty years later Anglos evicted the Latinos and plowed up pasture for wheat. Thirty years after that the wheat yielded to giant orchards. Another fifty years saw this food torn out for factories and homes. The latest thirty years have raised skyscrapers, superhighways and a new Latino majority.

So, I have to ask--What the hell does that have to do with moving?

Street cleaning day

I was driving to work today lamenting the fact that I'd have to go on a coffee run for the directors' meeting at 9:30 and lose my space in the parking lot, leaving me to circle the three blocks around my office looking for an open spot on the side of the street that isn't being cleaned. Sigh.
So, there I am, cruising along at 30 miles an hour--practically speeding on the 101, when suddenly we all came to a dead stop. Up ahead I could see flashing lights and a highway worker truck.
"Hmmm, " I said to myself, "there wasn't construction here yesterday. Maybe it's an accident. I do see a police car."
Ten minutes later, as I inched past, what did I see? A mangled car? The end of a high-speed chase? An alien spacecraft? No.
It was a STREET CLEANER!!!! Are you kidding me with this? A street cleaner??? On the freeway??? During morning rush hour??? Isn't that what community service is for???
Un-freakin-believable.

At least I found street parking after only two trips around the block.

My head hurts

I wish I had something worthwhile to blog about, but the truth is that I've had a sinus headache for two days and I'm no fun. I can't see because my eyes won't focus. I can't think. Even a Clive Owen marathon (mmm, Croupier) didn't make me feel better. I hate headaches.

I'm sure I'll have more to say next week.