So much for budgeting... got paid today and accidentally hit Macy's to check out the sale rack. I scored a super cute 3/4 length coat in robin's egg blue. Ralph Lauren... 65% off! This is what I call hunting for women!
Shopping probably wasn't the wisest choice considering the "check engine" light is lit on my dashboard, but I'm confident that the oil change, airfilter replacement tomorrow morning will fix the issue. A good oil change is very healing for a jetta.
I actually only spent $130 on my shopping outing -- and scored the coat (original price $209) a couple work tops, one workout top and shorts (with pockets ideal for tennis.) Not too shabby!
I finished the latest Harry Potter book and will wait a respectable period of time before I launch into my theory for how the 7th book will conclude.
Made up a new word today...(in a meeting with respected peers) "Collapsetion" -- no definition yet. I am sad to report that I did a google search on my fictionary words and they all had hits on the Internet. I thought I was so unique and it turns out there is a whole world of people who think like me. I'm not sure if I should be comforted or not...
Later!
Friday, July 29, 2005
Monday, July 25, 2005
the joys of homeownership...
It started simply enough, "hmmm, I'm home this weekend, I should invite P&J over for a bbq on the deck" and turned into a charge the power drill and drag out the wall paint kind of a weekend.
Inviting folks over for dinner is a good motivation to clean the house. I enjoy the company too but the real benefit is a clean kitchen. I started Saturday morning by throwing in a load of laundry. It had been a few weeks since I've cleaned the lint trap in so I popped it out and started to remove the woolen blanket that had formed on the filter. Sadly, the trap was so full, and the "lint" so heavy that it slid off the screen and down into the dryer vent. I cursed:
DRAT! (Mom says I'm using the words shit and damn too much and that it doesn't sound like me.)
I pulled out the vacuum and attempted to suck the lint blanket up from the top - but had no luck. Nervous about burning down the entire "H" wing of the condo I decided I'd better pull the dryer out and try to get the lint out the back.
In order to get the dryer out of the laundry "closet" I had to remove the folding doors and pull out the washing machine. This was no easy task because the previous owner Jeff "I don't know how to forward my mail" S. installed pergo throughout the kitchen, livingroom and hall - but didn't pay to have it installed under the washer and dryer. (Heaven forbid you should pay an extra $100 and do it right!?) So, I wrestled the washer out and moved the dryer into a position where I could disconnect the vent to get my vacuum up in the hole. I still didn't get the lint blanket out. Satisfied that I had done all I could do I moved everything back and started the dryer only to realize the vent hose disconnected itself and I had to pull everything back out AGAIN. (this was the second utterance of the unladylike statement "this is darned inconvenient!")
With the dryer finally working I set out to put the doors back on the closet only to find that the one door was broken and the screw that holds the door into the bracket on the floor was too short for the space. I tried readjusting it - but it looked to me like when I moved the washer I popped up one of the "expertly" laid pergo strips.
Pulling out the electric drill I removed the metal bracket from the wall and used my trusty hammer (with protective cloth) to move the pergo piece back into place, and then replaced the L-bracket. This, of course, did not fix the problem of the door not hanging correctly. I tried to adjust the bottom screw on the door to extend the length - but the whole screw popped up into the hollow door. "Flick flack flippen thing!" Now I have a 30 pound rattle.
Deciding that I should just stop and prepare my house for the guests I decided to switch out the door with one from the guest room closet. I installed the replacement door easily enough, but it is not the same sized door and ended up nicking the wall during the installation.
I ran out to the hardware store to find a screw and a molly to fix the broken door. I ended up with wood filler, a replacement screw, and new slides for the top (along with new plants for the deck.) I am in the process of slowly filling the stripped out hole with filler so I can re-drill the hole and pop the molly and screw into the door. If it doesn't work I'll just move. (Juni wants me to move to Portland anyway - this is a fine excuse.)
My dinner guests (who are in the 3rd year of a similar project that started with the changing of a lightbulb) laughed and asked if I had a lint brush on a long handle. Apparently they make things that you can stick into the dryer slot to sweep out the lint. Who knew?
Dinner was good - but I slept through the most of it...
Inviting folks over for dinner is a good motivation to clean the house. I enjoy the company too but the real benefit is a clean kitchen. I started Saturday morning by throwing in a load of laundry. It had been a few weeks since I've cleaned the lint trap in so I popped it out and started to remove the woolen blanket that had formed on the filter. Sadly, the trap was so full, and the "lint" so heavy that it slid off the screen and down into the dryer vent. I cursed:
DRAT! (Mom says I'm using the words shit and damn too much and that it doesn't sound like me.)
I pulled out the vacuum and attempted to suck the lint blanket up from the top - but had no luck. Nervous about burning down the entire "H" wing of the condo I decided I'd better pull the dryer out and try to get the lint out the back.
In order to get the dryer out of the laundry "closet" I had to remove the folding doors and pull out the washing machine. This was no easy task because the previous owner Jeff "I don't know how to forward my mail" S. installed pergo throughout the kitchen, livingroom and hall - but didn't pay to have it installed under the washer and dryer. (Heaven forbid you should pay an extra $100 and do it right!?) So, I wrestled the washer out and moved the dryer into a position where I could disconnect the vent to get my vacuum up in the hole. I still didn't get the lint blanket out. Satisfied that I had done all I could do I moved everything back and started the dryer only to realize the vent hose disconnected itself and I had to pull everything back out AGAIN. (this was the second utterance of the unladylike statement "this is darned inconvenient!")
With the dryer finally working I set out to put the doors back on the closet only to find that the one door was broken and the screw that holds the door into the bracket on the floor was too short for the space. I tried readjusting it - but it looked to me like when I moved the washer I popped up one of the "expertly" laid pergo strips.
Pulling out the electric drill I removed the metal bracket from the wall and used my trusty hammer (with protective cloth) to move the pergo piece back into place, and then replaced the L-bracket. This, of course, did not fix the problem of the door not hanging correctly. I tried to adjust the bottom screw on the door to extend the length - but the whole screw popped up into the hollow door. "Flick flack flippen thing!" Now I have a 30 pound rattle.
Deciding that I should just stop and prepare my house for the guests I decided to switch out the door with one from the guest room closet. I installed the replacement door easily enough, but it is not the same sized door and ended up nicking the wall during the installation.
I ran out to the hardware store to find a screw and a molly to fix the broken door. I ended up with wood filler, a replacement screw, and new slides for the top (along with new plants for the deck.) I am in the process of slowly filling the stripped out hole with filler so I can re-drill the hole and pop the molly and screw into the door. If it doesn't work I'll just move. (Juni wants me to move to Portland anyway - this is a fine excuse.)
My dinner guests (who are in the 3rd year of a similar project that started with the changing of a lightbulb) laughed and asked if I had a lint brush on a long handle. Apparently they make things that you can stick into the dryer slot to sweep out the lint. Who knew?
Dinner was good - but I slept through the most of it...
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
Trains & Johnny Depp
GrownUp? said...
Train good - car bad. Charlie and The Chocolate Factory? Thumbs up or thumbs down?
4:49 PM
MWR said...
Can you really get a train from PDX on a Monday morning and get into Seattle to arrive at work at a respectable (for me) hour?Yes, let's hear about CatCF. And if you happen to be one of these "I see everything with Johnny Depp" people, please let us know that too.
9:22 PM
tp_diaries says:
CatCF - good. Different and less scary than the original (which I loved as a kid.) The new crop of kids were looked a lot like the original batch - not including Charlie. I prefer the first Grandpa Joe - but the new one was charming. No songs (other than the oompa loompa ditties - which were original to the book) and no scary tunnel movie with the snakes. The story is essentially the same with some nice stuff at the end. The title sequence is 100% CG which was distracting, but once you're in the factory it's fun.
I was a little wary of the Michael Jacksonesque look of the new Willy - but at no point did I get the impression that he wanted to touch Charlie in an inappropriate fashion. I actually liked WW because there are times in the movie when he's the only one who seems to notice that the children are freaks.
I'm not one to see every Johnny Depp movie and I wasn't a rabid fan of 21 Jump Street although I do have someone in my world who was a "jumper." I have never seen nor had the desire to see Crybaby. I loved Finding Neverland - but I'm a "peter pan" junkie not JD.
My list of "must see" actors are:
Gwyneth Paltrow
Ed Norton (although, he's moved away from the smart movies into "Matt Damon" type movies so he could lose his status.)
Steve Martin (he's dreamy! I know it's totally creepy - he's 150 years old but he could come live at my house. "Oklahoma Oklahoma Oklahoma!")
Nichole Kidman (although Birthday Girl sucked! and I walked away from "Birth" and haven't gone back - it was slow and creepy.)
As for decent train times, no the earliest you can leave Portland is 8:45 am which ends up in a 12:15 pm arrival. If you have laptop and a phone - you could be 'working' during that time which is what I may do on my next trip down. The solo car trip is a pain.
Lastly, I think it's sad that we west coasters have not embraced rail travel more. I would love to take the train to Yakima to visit at Christmas. It's so humane - but no the train only goes to Ellensburg. This means my poor parents have to risk their lives to get me. That doesn't seem right -- although, it would mean I could get my inheritance earlier. It would be a bummer at Christmas for sure, especially for them. Anyway -- my point is that there's no solution - people won't ride the train until there are schedules that are convenient and the schedules won't increase until the ridership is there.
Train good - car bad. Charlie and The Chocolate Factory? Thumbs up or thumbs down?
4:49 PM
MWR said...
Can you really get a train from PDX on a Monday morning and get into Seattle to arrive at work at a respectable (for me) hour?Yes, let's hear about CatCF. And if you happen to be one of these "I see everything with Johnny Depp" people, please let us know that too.
9:22 PM
tp_diaries says:
CatCF - good. Different and less scary than the original (which I loved as a kid.) The new crop of kids were looked a lot like the original batch - not including Charlie. I prefer the first Grandpa Joe - but the new one was charming. No songs (other than the oompa loompa ditties - which were original to the book) and no scary tunnel movie with the snakes. The story is essentially the same with some nice stuff at the end. The title sequence is 100% CG which was distracting, but once you're in the factory it's fun.
I was a little wary of the Michael Jacksonesque look of the new Willy - but at no point did I get the impression that he wanted to touch Charlie in an inappropriate fashion. I actually liked WW because there are times in the movie when he's the only one who seems to notice that the children are freaks.
I'm not one to see every Johnny Depp movie and I wasn't a rabid fan of 21 Jump Street although I do have someone in my world who was a "jumper." I have never seen nor had the desire to see Crybaby. I loved Finding Neverland - but I'm a "peter pan" junkie not JD.
My list of "must see" actors are:
Gwyneth Paltrow
Ed Norton (although, he's moved away from the smart movies into "Matt Damon" type movies so he could lose his status.)
Steve Martin (he's dreamy! I know it's totally creepy - he's 150 years old but he could come live at my house. "Oklahoma Oklahoma Oklahoma!")
Nichole Kidman (although Birthday Girl sucked! and I walked away from "Birth" and haven't gone back - it was slow and creepy.)
As for decent train times, no the earliest you can leave Portland is 8:45 am which ends up in a 12:15 pm arrival. If you have laptop and a phone - you could be 'working' during that time which is what I may do on my next trip down. The solo car trip is a pain.
Lastly, I think it's sad that we west coasters have not embraced rail travel more. I would love to take the train to Yakima to visit at Christmas. It's so humane - but no the train only goes to Ellensburg. This means my poor parents have to risk their lives to get me. That doesn't seem right -- although, it would mean I could get my inheritance earlier. It would be a bummer at Christmas for sure, especially for them. Anyway -- my point is that there's no solution - people won't ride the train until there are schedules that are convenient and the schedules won't increase until the ridership is there.
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
spell checker... who needs it?
Apparently, I do. Sorry about the lazy post from yesterday. I was in a hurry and forgot myself. I've never been a whiz at typing and frankly - I can't spell for shit. I still get tripped up on certain words (which is embarrassing - but I manage to communicate good anyways.)
I am aware that the over reliance on spell check contributes to my inability to win the grammar Olympics .
So, got home last night and on my doorstep was the new Harry Potter book and my bookclub book (which I must finish by the 27th.) So, what is in my bag? Harry Potter. I am clearly undisciplined. I'm home this weekend and so I should be able to finish HP by Sunday. If not, I will fail over to the erudite bookclub book - which I'm sure I will love. I usually do.
My cat - neurosis Joe - aka Peter (his real name) is in the uber needy phase that occurs after I've been away from home too much. I don't think I hit rem sleep last night. He was standing on me - knocking items off the bed side table and in happy purr mode most of the night. It's nice that he's so happy - but sheesh a girl needs some sleep. I did arrange for him to have a play date with my friend Rico while I was out which helps lessen the amount of time it takes kitty to calm down. I haven't figured out what to do with him while I'm in Spain for 2 weeks in October. I may opt for a daily visit from a pet sitter. I wonder if it would be weird to ask mom and dad to move in for two weeks while I'm away? Probably, because they'd have to get a sitter for their cute but unfriendly cat. The better choice would be my aunt G. She would clean the crap out of my condo - but she's not a cat person and that's a cruel thing to do. I'll figure something out - or lock him in the bathroom with a costco bag of food and the tub filled with litter. It wouldn't smell that bad...
(dang - this has to be so exciting to read. Cats and Harry Potter - whoa hold on to your shorts.)
I am aware that the over reliance on spell check contributes to my inability to win the grammar Olympics .
So, got home last night and on my doorstep was the new Harry Potter book and my bookclub book (which I must finish by the 27th.) So, what is in my bag? Harry Potter. I am clearly undisciplined. I'm home this weekend and so I should be able to finish HP by Sunday. If not, I will fail over to the erudite bookclub book - which I'm sure I will love. I usually do.
My cat - neurosis Joe - aka Peter (his real name) is in the uber needy phase that occurs after I've been away from home too much. I don't think I hit rem sleep last night. He was standing on me - knocking items off the bed side table and in happy purr mode most of the night. It's nice that he's so happy - but sheesh a girl needs some sleep. I did arrange for him to have a play date with my friend Rico while I was out which helps lessen the amount of time it takes kitty to calm down. I haven't figured out what to do with him while I'm in Spain for 2 weeks in October. I may opt for a daily visit from a pet sitter. I wonder if it would be weird to ask mom and dad to move in for two weeks while I'm away? Probably, because they'd have to get a sitter for their cute but unfriendly cat. The better choice would be my aunt G. She would clean the crap out of my condo - but she's not a cat person and that's a cruel thing to do. I'll figure something out - or lock him in the bathroom with a costco bag of food and the tub filled with litter. It wouldn't smell that bad...
(dang - this has to be so exciting to read. Cats and Harry Potter - whoa hold on to your shorts.)
Monday, July 18, 2005
I'm so relaxed right now I could pass out...
Ok, so the super relaxing weekend visiting Juniper and clan in Portland didn't quite turn out the way I imagined it. (Much like my love life.)
I expected to lay in the hammock under the lilac tree and read until my eyes couldn't see. Instead -- we had a blast! I don't think I've ever packed so much into a weekend -- including the whirlwind Vegas trip. There were:
3 bar-b-ques
2 birthday parties
2 1/2 movies. (Charlie and The Chocolate Factory (2005), Garden State (dvd) and some nutty John Watters movie with Tracey Ulman -- sorry fans it SUCKED!)
2 trips to the pool
1 patio created (didn't really help with that, just some art direction)
1 trip to a special store to be unnamed and undecribed - but I scored my mom a kick-ass bChristmas present!
1 yard sale (attended not thrown)
2+ poopie diapers (not mine)
.5 naps
2 total and complete melt-downs by a otherwise happy 7 year old.
3 costume changes at bbq #1 (Juni's sister has the mother of all costume selections in her basement -- she is the mistress of fun!)
1 much to much B.A. with scrotal exposure (again, not mine)
3 trips to Grand Central Bakery (scream it with me... YUMMY)
1 trip down the water slide for all the world to see the glory of me shooting out of a big yellow tube. I think I scared small children.
I stayed Sunday night and got up at 5am for the zippy trip back to Seattle. I must remember to always take the train. Always always always. I hate that drive.
I expected to lay in the hammock under the lilac tree and read until my eyes couldn't see. Instead -- we had a blast! I don't think I've ever packed so much into a weekend -- including the whirlwind Vegas trip. There were:
3 bar-b-ques
2 birthday parties
2 1/2 movies. (Charlie and The Chocolate Factory (2005), Garden State (dvd) and some nutty John Watters movie with Tracey Ulman -- sorry fans it SUCKED!)
2 trips to the pool
1 patio created (didn't really help with that, just some art direction)
1 trip to a special store to be unnamed and undecribed - but I scored my mom a kick-ass bChristmas present!
1 yard sale (attended not thrown)
2+ poopie diapers (not mine)
.5 naps
2 total and complete melt-downs by a otherwise happy 7 year old.
3 costume changes at bbq #1 (Juni's sister has the mother of all costume selections in her basement -- she is the mistress of fun!)
1 much to much B.A. with scrotal exposure (again, not mine)
3 trips to Grand Central Bakery (scream it with me... YUMMY)
1 trip down the water slide for all the world to see the glory of me shooting out of a big yellow tube. I think I scared small children.
I stayed Sunday night and got up at 5am for the zippy trip back to Seattle. I must remember to always take the train. Always always always. I hate that drive.
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Winner of the worst dinner party comment ever:
Last night I attended a dinner with my friend and his co-workers. The group was diverse in regional origin and age. For the most part all were charming and well adjusted.
I made the desert which was a yummy chocolate cake decorated with melted white chocolate dots. Rico's boss who was stylish, well dressed with very nice shoes (obviously and openly gay) said to me how cute he thought the dots were and how easy it would be to do all sorts of shapes - he suggested a rainbow to stick on top of a cake. Joe (one of the bosses minions) asked "a rainbow, why a rainbow, are you a 6 year old girl?"
The boss replied that it would be cute for a coming out party. I suggested pink triangles for cupcakes. Joe asked why pink triangles.
The boss and I explained to origins of the pink triangles. (The Nazi's had an elaborate system to identify people, Jewish, Disabled, Muslim, Catholic, Gay, Irritating, Shifty -- these people were required to wear the identifying symbols.) Joe said, "how did they mark them?"
TP: typically, armbands, but in the camps the symbols may have been on their clothes.
Joe: but they didn't like brand them or anything that hurt?
TP: Uh, other than killing them, no they weren't hurt.
pause... while I waited for Joe to catch his error.
Joe: How do you know all this?
TP: (in my head: it's called history you nitwit) I've done a lot of reading about WWII, and recently had the opportunity to visit the National holocaust Museum in Washington DC.
BOSS: Oh, I've been there, it's great!
TP: I know, so moving.
Joe: Really, I heard it was boring.
**crickets**
Had Rico not moved in with coffee and a subject change, this is how I wanted to proceed:
TP: yeah, ever since they took out the virtual reality room where you get to shoot the Jews and Homo's from the prison walls - the museum is so dull. It's too bad that they only have that one video of the medical experiments - what it really needed is someone performing live mutilations on the half hour for the tour groups.
I can forgive Joe's ignorance about the different groups that were rounded up and sent to the camps - the Jewish folks really take all the spotlight - with 6 million people exterminated it's hard to remember that other groups were targeted as well. But I don't forgive a lack of understanding and respect for the event as a stain on our humanity and the need to be interested in what happened so we can hopefully prevent it from happening ever again. Boring... shesh!!
I made the desert which was a yummy chocolate cake decorated with melted white chocolate dots. Rico's boss who was stylish, well dressed with very nice shoes (obviously and openly gay) said to me how cute he thought the dots were and how easy it would be to do all sorts of shapes - he suggested a rainbow to stick on top of a cake. Joe (one of the bosses minions) asked "a rainbow, why a rainbow, are you a 6 year old girl?"
The boss replied that it would be cute for a coming out party. I suggested pink triangles for cupcakes. Joe asked why pink triangles.
The boss and I explained to origins of the pink triangles. (The Nazi's had an elaborate system to identify people, Jewish, Disabled, Muslim, Catholic, Gay, Irritating, Shifty -- these people were required to wear the identifying symbols.) Joe said, "how did they mark them?"
TP: typically, armbands, but in the camps the symbols may have been on their clothes.
Joe: but they didn't like brand them or anything that hurt?
TP: Uh, other than killing them, no they weren't hurt.
pause... while I waited for Joe to catch his error.
Joe: How do you know all this?
TP: (in my head: it's called history you nitwit) I've done a lot of reading about WWII, and recently had the opportunity to visit the National holocaust Museum in Washington DC.
BOSS: Oh, I've been there, it's great!
TP: I know, so moving.
Joe: Really, I heard it was boring.
**crickets**
Had Rico not moved in with coffee and a subject change, this is how I wanted to proceed:
TP: yeah, ever since they took out the virtual reality room where you get to shoot the Jews and Homo's from the prison walls - the museum is so dull. It's too bad that they only have that one video of the medical experiments - what it really needed is someone performing live mutilations on the half hour for the tour groups.
I can forgive Joe's ignorance about the different groups that were rounded up and sent to the camps - the Jewish folks really take all the spotlight - with 6 million people exterminated it's hard to remember that other groups were targeted as well. But I don't forgive a lack of understanding and respect for the event as a stain on our humanity and the need to be interested in what happened so we can hopefully prevent it from happening ever again. Boring... shesh!!
Tuesday, July 12, 2005
The Fictionary
The fictionary is a collection of terms coined by my people, it is forever growing. The list started during the dying dot com days and the only word I can recall is Cleverage. Feel free to use these words in your daily life, but we retain ownership over the the terms and have sole authority over the definitions.
Asparipiss: noun, foul smelling urine produced after eating asparagus (May, 2005 – E. B.)
Cleverage: verb, creative and unique use of a tool or resource for a new purpose. “I really thought it was interesting that my manager was able to cleverage the office supply budget to buy himself a new car.” (November, 1999 – P. H, S. M (snottybananafanny), T. P)
Confercation: noun, the conference located at a highly desirable location, such as Las Vegas or Hawaii thus enabling the employee to maximize conference downtime for personal enjoyment. (June, 2005 – T. P.)
Confusement: verb, the act of being puzzled. “The rules were unclear so you can understand my confusement.” (2005– A. B)
Narcophelia: noun, a sexual disorder in which an individual is strangely attracted to a person who is asleep. (2003 – T. P.)
Necrolepsy: noun, a physical disorder that causes the inflicted to fall asleep unexpectedly while having intimate relations with dead people. (2004 – T. P.)
Stadistics: noun, using numbers and figures to make the topic upon which you are reporting appear worse than it actually is, also the over use of statistics to prove your point, i.e. 100% of people surveyed stated that 90% of statistics were at least 75% reliable (+/- 5%). (2005 – T. P.)
Yalk: verb, talking while simultaneously yawning (2003 – A & E B)
Asparipiss: noun, foul smelling urine produced after eating asparagus (May, 2005 – E. B.)
Cleverage: verb, creative and unique use of a tool or resource for a new purpose. “I really thought it was interesting that my manager was able to cleverage the office supply budget to buy himself a new car.” (November, 1999 – P. H, S. M (snottybananafanny), T. P)
Confercation: noun, the conference located at a highly desirable location, such as Las Vegas or Hawaii thus enabling the employee to maximize conference downtime for personal enjoyment. (June, 2005 – T. P.)
Confusement: verb, the act of being puzzled. “The rules were unclear so you can understand my confusement.” (2005– A. B)
Narcophelia: noun, a sexual disorder in which an individual is strangely attracted to a person who is asleep. (2003 – T. P.)
Necrolepsy: noun, a physical disorder that causes the inflicted to fall asleep unexpectedly while having intimate relations with dead people. (2004 – T. P.)
Stadistics: noun, using numbers and figures to make the topic upon which you are reporting appear worse than it actually is, also the over use of statistics to prove your point, i.e. 100% of people surveyed stated that 90% of statistics were at least 75% reliable (+/- 5%). (2005 – T. P.)
Yalk: verb, talking while simultaneously yawning (2003 – A & E B)
Monday, July 11, 2005
Kissing Strangers: My trip to Las Vegas in 10 bullets
I can't tell you everything about the weekend trip to Vegas, because of the non-disclosure agreement so here are the highlights:
1) It was HOT. 114 degrees hot. Thank goodness for AC and big pools.
2) MGM grand is a great hotel - the room was nice and pools were amazing. Floating the "river" was fun. Starbucks - open 24 hours a day!!! So very civilized!
3) I popped $5.00 into a nickle machine and promptly scored a 3600 coin payout. (That's $180 to you and me.) I'm not a big gambler, so I 'cashed out' and was done gambling.
4) No more coins -- when you win you get a ticket and then the ticket can be redeemed at an ATM type kiosk. If the clink of the coin in the bin is your kind of music, you're in for a shock.
5) Got a henna tattoo. (Don't worry mom, it's not permanent.)
6) Danced the night away at Studio 54. I will say there was some kissing - but I won't (can't?) say with whom but am glad that Pennsylvania is far far away from Washington. My virtue is in tact but am happy trips to Vegas are a once every 5 year event. I wouldn't want to get a reputation.
7) On my way to the airport (from Seattle to Vegas -- pre-alcohol) I fell down an escalator and jacked up my arm, leg and butt. The purple and green bruises under the 8 inch scrapes on left arm and leg look pretty in my bathing suit.
8) The flight into Vegas was rowdy and fun and on the flight back people were snoring before we even closed the plane door.
9) Had a fabulous lunch at the Bellagio hotel. It was a lovely 2 hour break from the hustle of the batchelorette party. However, the waiter forgot to add the wine to our bill and I'm a little miffed because we were honest and told him, so he should have comped our dessert. When I run a hotel the size of Rhode Island, these are the things my staff will do.
10) If you want to lay by the pool, see the sights, party, kiss men from Pittsburgh, and eat out you need more than a day and a half. Vegas is gross and fake but for me, the pool junkie - it's totally great.
1) It was HOT. 114 degrees hot. Thank goodness for AC and big pools.
2) MGM grand is a great hotel - the room was nice and pools were amazing. Floating the "river" was fun. Starbucks - open 24 hours a day!!! So very civilized!
3) I popped $5.00 into a nickle machine and promptly scored a 3600 coin payout. (That's $180 to you and me.) I'm not a big gambler, so I 'cashed out' and was done gambling.
4) No more coins -- when you win you get a ticket and then the ticket can be redeemed at an ATM type kiosk. If the clink of the coin in the bin is your kind of music, you're in for a shock.
5) Got a henna tattoo. (Don't worry mom, it's not permanent.)
6) Danced the night away at Studio 54. I will say there was some kissing - but I won't (can't?) say with whom but am glad that Pennsylvania is far far away from Washington. My virtue is in tact but am happy trips to Vegas are a once every 5 year event. I wouldn't want to get a reputation.
7) On my way to the airport (from Seattle to Vegas -- pre-alcohol) I fell down an escalator and jacked up my arm, leg and butt. The purple and green bruises under the 8 inch scrapes on left arm and leg look pretty in my bathing suit.
8) The flight into Vegas was rowdy and fun and on the flight back people were snoring before we even closed the plane door.
9) Had a fabulous lunch at the Bellagio hotel. It was a lovely 2 hour break from the hustle of the batchelorette party. However, the waiter forgot to add the wine to our bill and I'm a little miffed because we were honest and told him, so he should have comped our dessert. When I run a hotel the size of Rhode Island, these are the things my staff will do.
10) If you want to lay by the pool, see the sights, party, kiss men from Pittsburgh, and eat out you need more than a day and a half. Vegas is gross and fake but for me, the pool junkie - it's totally great.
More Spain Photos
This is the last grouping of photo's from Spain. My next photo update will be either the 4th o' July camping extravaganza or the Las Vegas Pictures.
I do feel a bit guilty about this photo - but it was truely cute. The big burly American dad was walking through the street with his daughter and she was dragging a jump rope. He asked her to hurry up so she tied it around her waist and in doing so tied the back of her skirt up. I was not the only member of my party to take this photo - so I won't be alone in hell when I go.
- This 'fresco' is what I'm calling the Creepy Jesus. He's very alien looking. Don't sin, or I'll come down in my space ship and eat your soul.
I do feel a bit guilty about this photo - but it was truely cute. The big burly American dad was walking through the street with his daughter and she was dragging a jump rope. He asked her to hurry up so she tied it around her waist and in doing so tied the back of her skirt up. I was not the only member of my party to take this photo - so I won't be alone in hell when I go.
- This 'fresco' is what I'm calling the Creepy Jesus. He's very alien looking. Don't sin, or I'll come down in my space ship and eat your soul.
Thursday, July 07, 2005
Spain Pictures (more to come!)
Most of these were taken at the Pablo Espanyol - a park built for the 1929 world expo to showcase the multiple styles of architecture.
The plaza is centered around a square and this gazebo
.
Wednesday, July 06, 2005
Apparently, I ain't ugly
First off, I have bad news about the mango pyramid. RiteAid f*cked up my order and printed doubles but failed to provide the photo disc and black and whites that I PAID for. I'm hopeful that they will fix the error when I pop in today - but this is RiteAid -- they can't even spell their own name so I'm sure that customer service is NOT their number one priority.
Secondly, it's a fact that summer is in full swing. I am booked solid every weekend now until August (which is only 4 weeks away.) I love summer, especially in Seattle where it's not to damn hot and the dress code is casual anyway. I spent a happy 4th of July weekend frolicking in the waters of Puget Sound near Port Gamble. PG is a cute little community which consists of 15 restored houses circa 1802, a cemetery (with a stunning view of hood canal) and the oldest operating wood mill in the United States. It is very reminiscent of Oysterville, WA - but the houses have been converted in to bookstores, spas, cafes, and stores specializing in handmade items. Oysterville - for the uninitiated is a quaint town on the Long Beach (WA) peninsula of privately owned historic homes. It's lovely - but the only thing you're going find to eat will be out of your picnic basket.
Secondly, it's a fact that summer is in full swing. I am booked solid every weekend now until August (which is only 4 weeks away.) I love summer, especially in Seattle where it's not to damn hot and the dress code is casual anyway. I spent a happy 4th of July weekend frolicking in the waters of Puget Sound near Port Gamble. PG is a cute little community which consists of 15 restored houses circa 1802, a cemetery (with a stunning view of hood canal) and the oldest operating wood mill in the United States. It is very reminiscent of Oysterville, WA - but the houses have been converted in to bookstores, spas, cafes, and stores specializing in handmade items. Oysterville - for the uninitiated is a quaint town on the Long Beach (WA) peninsula of privately owned historic homes. It's lovely - but the only thing you're going find to eat will be out of your picnic basket.
Anywho... spending the extended weekend with friends at their cabin was a great way to unwind. The weather was amazing and we spent at least 3 hours each day in the bay and enjoyed many hours on the deck. At night the B&B across the bay had a fireworks show each night which was lovely. We managed to see the Kingston 4th of July parade or most of it until Collin the 2 1/2 year old child of my friends had a melt down and we ducked into McD's for chicken nuggets.
Collin is a surprisingly pleasant child, who speaks French (or one particular phrase over and over and over) but get this he sleeps until 9 am. No shit - the kid goes to bed at like 7:30 or 8 and sleeps until 9. I tried to tell my girlfriend how lucky she was but words can not describe the joy of waking up day after day because you're done sleeping - not because the alarm has jolted you awake, or that mommies little angel gets up with the sun at 4:30 am. For those of you with angels of your own, who get up at 6am I think it is ok to have just a little spite in your heart for Collin's parents. They do know that every 9am day is a blessing and the rest of their lives are so bleak and dark that you really can't hate them.
I need to give a shout out to my parents who celebrated their bagillionth anniversary this weekend. I'm about to turn 37 (Christ almighty) which means (do the math....) they celebrated their 38th anniversary. That is a long damn time to put up with each other and they do it very well.
Happy Anniversary Mom & Dad. I loves ya!
Lastly, a belated note regarding a movie that Yasmine brought to movie night at her house. The Machinist staring Batman Begins Christian Bale. I'm not a suspense movie gal - I have a hard time when things like the refrigerator start to bleed - but this movie was pretty good. It was twisty and confusing and fun like Memento was fun. I don't like bleeding appliances, but I like having to think and figure out what's going on and I dig imagery clues - which is I think why I love LOST!
Yaz is funny in the way she consumes movies - she will see everything by an actor rather than bend to the whim of the media wind. Clearly, she's on a Christian Bale tare at the moment. WWW.netflix.com is perfect for those of you who like to see everything by an actor. It's how I came to see Girl with the Pearl Earring. I love Mr. Darcy -- oops he probably prefers to go by his given name Collin Firth or as I refer to him in my dreams - Mr. TP gal.
HUGE NEWS (for me anyway) my boss finally (after 2 years of begging) approved a job requisition and I'm getting a minion!!! Happy dance in my office in 2 minutes! I'm sure there will be plenty to blog about once the minion comes online. (I hope not to call the minion - minion to their face - but we'll see how that goes.)
I'm off to Las Vegas this weekend for a batchelorette party - I'm sure there will be fun tales if we survive. The pre-party last Friday was fun - but it was a plastic penis straw kind of event. I'm not a plastic penis straw kind of gal. After dinner we went to a dance club called Larry's. I haven't been out to a club club in ages - all my people are married. I expected to spend the evening dancing with the girlfriends but not so. Larry's caters to the urban male (hip hop music, go go dancers) and some of the urban males have a hankerin for the larger ladies. (I don't think I'm revealing too much when I say that I am not a barbie.) I was pinched, winked at, asked to dance, and had a bouncer bump into me and say:
"If you EVER bump me like that again..." leaning in and close "it would be ok by me baby." Uh, thank you Mr. 7 foot tall bouncer man.
The bride to be bestowed upon me the "biggest flirt" award. Frankly, the whole night was outside my comfort zone, I'm not use to being seen that way. One nice man asked me why I didn't have a boyfriend "you ain't ugly" he told me. I was at a loss as to how to respond. "I don't know, I'm looking for a man who wouldn't say to a woman, you aint ugly as a come on." Also, I'm not looking just to 'hook up' (that means just have sex Mom) no offense to those of you who can and do hook up, I'm looking for more and I don't think it's too much to hope for -- after all I ain't ugly.
Monday, June 27, 2005
Spain, Greenday and one really loud American girl
Sigh…
Life as I know it is back in full swing. The only real joy left will be picking up my photo’s from the RiteAid.
There are exciting things to share about my last day and a half in Spain – and some musings about the flight home.
The hotel where I stayed was lovely and most of the patrons I encountered were with our conference. We tended to take over the bar after the day ended and after dinner. On Wednesday, the other patrons took on a different look and feel. American guys in cut off jeans (at the knees like skateboarders not at the ass like 70’s rollerskaters) plaid shirts, wallets on chains and skinny American girls in super tight jeans, heals and um… breasts were milling about. That night in the bar, there was our party of nerdy security folks and their party of hip (but calm and quiet) hipsters. I noticed them, but didn’t really pay much attention. Needless to say – they had beer I had beer so TECHNICALLY we had beer together. Why is this important? Well – it’s a technicality that means I had drinks with GREENDAY!
It turns out that Greenday was staying in my hotel for 3 days between gigs. There were a number of Billy Joe sightings including a very exciting revolution in the lobby door. We did actually talk and it went like this:
ME: are you looking for the guy with the horns?
Billy Joe: yeah
ME: he just went up in the elevator
Billy Joe: he’s hard to miss huh?
ME: yeah
Then Billy Joe went up in the elevator, and I’m thinking to myself – “oh yeah, me and Billy Joe are tight!”
I have been asked if I got an autograph and the answer is, no I did not. You will have to take my word for it that Billy Joe and I are best friends now. I really think if I was famous that I would hate the loss of being invisible in a crowd. When I see celebrities I really make an effort not to flip out even if its someone cool like Billy Joe. I would so much rather appreciate them for what they do and honor that by leaving them alone than trying to say something meaningful. I don’t really know these people and I’d hate for the encounter to go badly and then have to think of them as an asshole.
I put some thought into who I might cross the line with and the only people I came up with was Duran Duran and only because I loved them so much as a teenager and I really like the new album that I’m not sure I could stop myself.
Anyway – the Greenday sightings were fun and it made the last few days more exciting.
Our last night out was amazing. We went as a group to a restaurant I never would have tried on my own and we had a blast. The beverage selection went like this: Cava (Spanish champagne), white wine, red wine, port, coffee and then back at the bar (with Greenday) beer.
My appetizer was Gazpacho with fresh vegetables and lobster (a cool 22 euro for that bad boy.) The bowl it was presented in was the most amazing bowl I had ever seen. It was super thin white china and it looked like a very stylized heart with the two sides pulled out into graceful wings. It was sexy – there’s just no getting around it. The soup was served with the lobster in the bowl but the vegetables were on the side in a special dish with diced tomatoes, cucumbers, onions and crunchy croutons.
My main dish was a grand piece of Turbot in spicy paprika oil. It was good, but I’m really excited about the dessert – Mango Pyramid with Chocolate Sauce. I took a photo of it and as soon as the Rite Aid frees my film I’ll post it. I was expecting mango slices and chocolate sauce, but was served a tart mango mouse with a gelled mango core the whole thing was drizzled in a rich dark chocolate. It was sweet and tart and chocolate all at the same time. It was so good that my mouth is watering as I type. My table neighbor wanted a taste and it was all I could do to let him have a bite, heck it was all I could do not to lick the plate.
After dinner (3 and ½ hours after entering the restaurant) we walked up to the fountains. Friday was a major Spanish holiday (St. Joan Day) and like the 4th of July in America the Spanish celebrate with fireworks. We missed the last of the state sponsored fireworks but the natives celebrated late into the night. The scene was chaotic – with children throwing lit fireworks at every open spot, adults lighting big blow your hand off fireworks – punk kids dropping fireworks into tin cans to watch the cans explode. By the time we left at 12:45 the crowd was thinning – but we passed two bonfires with people throwing fireworks into the fires to watch them explode. This wasn’t a parking lot or a secluded area of the beach – this was smack dab in the middle of a public park area under trees (who live in 90 degree heat day after day with little rain) it was a 13 year old boys dream and a mother’s nightmare.
Dodging fireworks and fires on the way back to the hotel we hit the bar for one last drink. That lasted until 2am when the bartender asked us to leave (because of the holiday) and I headed to my room. My flight the next morning left at 6:30 am – so I needed to leave the hotel at 4. I was packed and I attempted to take a nap but with the constant sound of fireworks and gunshots out of my window there was no sleeping. I turned the light off for 15 minutes and then gave up. During dinner one of my companions explained how to get free porn (not to me, but to someone else) so I checked it out. The trick was to turn the tv to the porn station and then turn the tv off and on again at the tv (not the remote) and boom – Spanish porn. I didn’t watch long but the plot was intriguing:
Dude standing in a field talking to a woman. Next scene, dude is in an outdoor pool and 6 ladies (including gal from day one) walk up – they appear to be in flight attendant gear. After some talking and a Vanna White Showcase moment the ladies drop top and pool guy takes a second look at each gal. One more clothing drop and the ladies are standing in high heals and their kicky flight attendant hats and scarfs and he selects one. That’s when the music started and I realized I was sitting alone in a hotel room watching porn, so I clicked off the tv. I’m not opposed to porn – but as a single gal what’s the point?
Anyway – after a shower, change of clothes and a detailed look around the room to make sure I didn’t forget anything I headed downstairs to check out. The night clerks checked me out and when my cab arrived unlocked the front door and let me out. Meanwhile, rockets and fireworks were still going off outside.
Because I was early at the airport the check in was smooth and calm. Folks behind me were restless and I made a mental note for the fall – check in early! There was a young American girl (maybe 19 or 21) who was having trouble checking in and while she waited for the agent to figure out her situation she had a loud conversation with her companion who was NOT standing with her. They talked over the whole queue of people as if no one could understand them. They talked about the guys they hooked up with, how drunk they were and how excited they were to be going to a place where you didn’t have to be worried about getting mugged. This is the gal who gives American tourists a bad name. Once down in the waiting area things were peaceful – I was sitting next to a nice couple and we were watching Spanish news on the tv on a roll around cart. Loud girl arrived, asked the one guy closest to the tv if he was watching it and even after he nodded yes, she changed the channel looking for basketball. She tried to tell him how important basketball was and after she couldn’t locate any channel showing basket ball turned the tv to a station with some loud nutty game show. The couple next to me gave me a look of horror and said something very low in Spanish that I could only take to mean – “get a load of that gross American” and I whispered back with sadness in my eyes “no habla espanyol – Americano.” They seemed not to hold it against me. Fortunately she was not on my flight back to Seattle and I was able to ditch her loud ass in Amsterdam. If you get mugged or shot on your next trip overseas – it’s loud girls fault.
I’m not sure if it was the lack of sleep or the many many drinks from the night before but I managed to sleep on both the short flight to Amsterdam and the flight to Seattle.
It’s good to be home and the weekend was fun – I went sailing on Lake Washington and played softball on Sunday. It was a glorious Seattle weekend. Looking forward to the 4th with friends and before I know it, it will be time to head back to Spain for vacation in October.
Thursday, June 23, 2005
Map, I don't need no stinking map!
Hola! Welcome to the last live-on-location entry from Spain. I can’t guarantee that the trip home won’t be memorable enough to write about – so I won’t attempt to claim this is the last Spain entry.
I stuck out the whole day yesterday in the conference. Today is a half day and so far (20 minutes in) it’s pretty interesting. So no wise cracks today about my boring techie job.
Ironically, after I complained a bit about feeling isolated I was invited to dinner. The group (19 people strong!) was going to meet at the hotel bar and walk over for an early dinner at 8:30. I decided I wanted to see the city so I made my way to the metro. I’m glad I did because while the trains were clean and easy to navigate it was apparent that if you were dragging luggage you would be in the way of other commuters and getting down to the trains is stairs. (Note to self: when you come back in October hire a car to pick you up at the airport.)
Another important thing I learned a compass and a GOOD street-map might save you time and blisters.
I had a hard time orienting myself on the street so I tried to navigate by locating myself on the map and then walking toward the next street and then to the next to determine the direction I was walking in. My map, while portable didn’t have the many pedestrian only streets listed so I walked about a half a mile to the next major street and then to the next major street which ended up being the exact opposite of where I needed to be.
I enjoyed the walk, and saw many sights that I was interested in. I wasn’t worried about getting to the restaurant (until about 30 minutes before I was supposed to be there) so I lingered in some of the plazas and shops. The Bari Gothic area is a fun area of mostly pedestrian only streets that are lined with chic shops.
I was approached by one questionable person who must have used his crack skills to peg me as a tourist. I wonder if the map and the camera gave me away. He came too close to ask if I knew the name of the Plaza I was standing in as if he was lost. Street names and plaza names are generally found on the corners of buildings and so while they are not as noticeable as the big green signs in America they are none the less visible if you know what to look for. I looked the guy right in the eye (to let him know I wasn’t weak) and pointed to the plaza sign behind me while casually resting my other hand on my bag. He nodded and walked away. I moved off to the side of the plaza to spend a little more time in my map and to scope out a picture. As I stood there I saw him approach Ma & Pa Kentucky and another young American looking couple.
The guide book says that this area of town isn’t dangerous, but that the traveler should be more cautious about their wallets and bags. In fact, the waiter advised us after dinner to stick together and watch for pickpockets.
About 30 minutes before I was supposed to be at the restaurant for dinner I started to get a little worried that I wouldn’t find it. Persistence is a good thing because as I got lost again I made a decision (guess) between the option of left or right and ended up on the street the restaurant was on. I found it in about 3 minutes. Because I was early I popped into a ceramics shop and poked around. The store was clearly designed to sell to tourists but there were some very nice items. They also had a wine cellar and art gallery under the main shop. I couldn’t resist the temptation to purchase a bowl that would be lovely for summer salads. Rather than haul it home I inquired about shipping it back, but at 70 euro to ship to the US I opted to import it myself. It was only a 20 euro bowl for pete sake.
I made my way back to the restaurant to find only one person from my party there so we sat at the bar under about 30 hanging hams and had cava. Normally I am pretty uptight about being late as I think it’s really rude to make the restaurant hold tables for non-existent patrons. (I also hate that people assume that it’s ok to make your friends wait for you.) This is not the US – it’s Spain, and everything is late here so the fact that our party didn’t arrive until 9 was no big deal. In fact, we had a lengthy dinner and left after 11 and there were tables where folks were just arriving yet there was no pressure to leave.
The restaurant didn’t look like much from the street. Rather, it didn’t look like much more than the bar area so when they walked us through the hot hot kitchen to the back and then around a corner and up a 200 year old carved staircase and then around another corner to our tables. The whole place other than the loft area where we were sitting has hams hanging from the ceiling.
The first course was an amazing array of tapas – jamon, mushrooms, prawns, and squid. I wanted to lick every plate – and my mouth is watering just thinking about the squid – it was lightly breaded and salty but not chewy. They were nothing short of perfection. We didn’t order it – they told us that they would be bringing it. For the second course everyone ordered their own but my end of the table agreed to Seafood Palella. The waiter brought out this huge hot pan of seasoned rice packed with seafood. Even after it was divided there was no way we could have eaten it all.
My dinner companions were extraordinarily fun. This group is from all over the UK and America and so my dinner companions were from the UK: Ireland, London, and Edinburgh, Scotland. We laughed about the differences between the US and the UK and listed absurd television shows. I totally concede defeat to “Naked Darts” a show in which topless women play darts. Who wants to marry my dad has nothing on Naked Darts. I’m sure FOX will pick up on it soon.
Thankfully after dinner, we found a cab and made it back to the hotel just after midnight. I figured out the wake up alarm situation (thankfully I have my cell phone) and made it to the last day of the conference on time.
Tonight the fountains will be on display, but there will also be fireworks so instead of a lengthy dinner some of the gals and I will make our way to the plaza near the hotel for a night out.
I leave tomorrow morning on a 6:30 am flight so I won’t be posting again until I’m back in the States. Viva Espana!
I stuck out the whole day yesterday in the conference. Today is a half day and so far (20 minutes in) it’s pretty interesting. So no wise cracks today about my boring techie job.
Ironically, after I complained a bit about feeling isolated I was invited to dinner. The group (19 people strong!) was going to meet at the hotel bar and walk over for an early dinner at 8:30. I decided I wanted to see the city so I made my way to the metro. I’m glad I did because while the trains were clean and easy to navigate it was apparent that if you were dragging luggage you would be in the way of other commuters and getting down to the trains is stairs. (Note to self: when you come back in October hire a car to pick you up at the airport.)
Another important thing I learned a compass and a GOOD street-map might save you time and blisters.
I had a hard time orienting myself on the street so I tried to navigate by locating myself on the map and then walking toward the next street and then to the next to determine the direction I was walking in. My map, while portable didn’t have the many pedestrian only streets listed so I walked about a half a mile to the next major street and then to the next major street which ended up being the exact opposite of where I needed to be.
I enjoyed the walk, and saw many sights that I was interested in. I wasn’t worried about getting to the restaurant (until about 30 minutes before I was supposed to be there) so I lingered in some of the plazas and shops. The Bari Gothic area is a fun area of mostly pedestrian only streets that are lined with chic shops.
I was approached by one questionable person who must have used his crack skills to peg me as a tourist. I wonder if the map and the camera gave me away. He came too close to ask if I knew the name of the Plaza I was standing in as if he was lost. Street names and plaza names are generally found on the corners of buildings and so while they are not as noticeable as the big green signs in America they are none the less visible if you know what to look for. I looked the guy right in the eye (to let him know I wasn’t weak) and pointed to the plaza sign behind me while casually resting my other hand on my bag. He nodded and walked away. I moved off to the side of the plaza to spend a little more time in my map and to scope out a picture. As I stood there I saw him approach Ma & Pa Kentucky and another young American looking couple.
The guide book says that this area of town isn’t dangerous, but that the traveler should be more cautious about their wallets and bags. In fact, the waiter advised us after dinner to stick together and watch for pickpockets.
About 30 minutes before I was supposed to be at the restaurant for dinner I started to get a little worried that I wouldn’t find it. Persistence is a good thing because as I got lost again I made a decision (guess) between the option of left or right and ended up on the street the restaurant was on. I found it in about 3 minutes. Because I was early I popped into a ceramics shop and poked around. The store was clearly designed to sell to tourists but there were some very nice items. They also had a wine cellar and art gallery under the main shop. I couldn’t resist the temptation to purchase a bowl that would be lovely for summer salads. Rather than haul it home I inquired about shipping it back, but at 70 euro to ship to the US I opted to import it myself. It was only a 20 euro bowl for pete sake.
I made my way back to the restaurant to find only one person from my party there so we sat at the bar under about 30 hanging hams and had cava. Normally I am pretty uptight about being late as I think it’s really rude to make the restaurant hold tables for non-existent patrons. (I also hate that people assume that it’s ok to make your friends wait for you.) This is not the US – it’s Spain, and everything is late here so the fact that our party didn’t arrive until 9 was no big deal. In fact, we had a lengthy dinner and left after 11 and there were tables where folks were just arriving yet there was no pressure to leave.
The restaurant didn’t look like much from the street. Rather, it didn’t look like much more than the bar area so when they walked us through the hot hot kitchen to the back and then around a corner and up a 200 year old carved staircase and then around another corner to our tables. The whole place other than the loft area where we were sitting has hams hanging from the ceiling.
The first course was an amazing array of tapas – jamon, mushrooms, prawns, and squid. I wanted to lick every plate – and my mouth is watering just thinking about the squid – it was lightly breaded and salty but not chewy. They were nothing short of perfection. We didn’t order it – they told us that they would be bringing it. For the second course everyone ordered their own but my end of the table agreed to Seafood Palella. The waiter brought out this huge hot pan of seasoned rice packed with seafood. Even after it was divided there was no way we could have eaten it all.
My dinner companions were extraordinarily fun. This group is from all over the UK and America and so my dinner companions were from the UK: Ireland, London, and Edinburgh, Scotland. We laughed about the differences between the US and the UK and listed absurd television shows. I totally concede defeat to “Naked Darts” a show in which topless women play darts. Who wants to marry my dad has nothing on Naked Darts. I’m sure FOX will pick up on it soon.
Thankfully after dinner, we found a cab and made it back to the hotel just after midnight. I figured out the wake up alarm situation (thankfully I have my cell phone) and made it to the last day of the conference on time.
Tonight the fountains will be on display, but there will also be fireworks so instead of a lengthy dinner some of the gals and I will make our way to the plaza near the hotel for a night out.
I leave tomorrow morning on a 6:30 am flight so I won’t be posting again until I’m back in the States. Viva Espana!
Wednesday, June 22, 2005
Can it really be called work when you're in Spain?
Buenos Dias!
The conference is progressing well. It is somewhat of a challenge being a single gal amongst the 50 year old male European business men. I really try to mingle and make connections – but it is hard and a bit isolating. I had a great conversation last night with the only other gal here from a financial services company – she’s with Behemoth National Bank somewhat of a competitor to my company but when one is starved for meaningful conversation, even George Bush might be fun to talk to. I’m certainly not comparing her to Bushie.
My friends at home joke about my boring job – it’s security but not in the stand-in-the-way-of-a-bullet kind of way – it’s a lot of meetings, writing and research. I’m excited by the myriad of possibilities within this industry, and as a woman I feel like a jr. pioneer. However, yesterday I may have found the topic that puts even me to sleep – “Light Boundary Protection using Fibre-Optic Sensors.” (yes, that’s fibre not fiber we are in Europe.) The topic overview read:
This presentation shows how such technology may be used to provide land or sea-based boundary protection, and presents the results obtained from research and current trends.
During the speech which included graphical representations of seaports with the giant ropes with sensors attached, and graphs comparing these sensors to normal sensors I was inventing new and unique ways to end my life. There is a giant crystal chandelier overhead and I thought that if I threw the bottle of water on my table at it, that it might maybe crash down upon my head and stop the speaker from talking – if I was lucky.
Then it occurred to me that if I unplug my power adapter and put one end of the cord in my mouth and plug the other end into the European socket without the adapter that the electrical shock might be enough to keep me awake.
After the day blissfully ended we headed to our social event which was held at the Poble Espanyole. PE was built in 1929 for the World Exposition to showcase the varied architectures styles across Spain. The area park is approximately 1 ½ football fields in diameter and is designed to look like a small Spanish village all centered upon a square. Each building emulates a real building somewhere in Spain and within each of the facades is a restaurant or shop featuring crafts targeted at the tourist. The shops were fun and I must admit I did succumb to the Spanish tile shop – but managed to skirt the scary painted clown mask shop. *shiver* Abandoning all sense of pride, I pulled out the camera and took a series of shots that if they turn out will be great. At one point in the park I noticed a man and his daughter who was dragging a jump rope. When told by her dad to step it up, she tied the rope around her waist and in doing so accidentally hiked the back end of her skirt up revealing her little girl panties. Once the rope was secured, they went on their way. I couldn't resist taking a photo of the little girl with her big burly dad and her bum hanging out. I confessed my voyeuristic shot to one of my colleagues and he laughed and admitted he took one too.
We were given a private tour of the park and then taken to the “monastery” at the top of the hill for a reception of dinner, cocktails, and handsome singing Spanish men in short pants. We dined outside under orange trees near a bubbling fountain. The “monastery” overlooked the city and as the sun went down the city came to life. It was a beautiful summer night with no wind and if every night in Spain was like that I’d move here tomorrow. I’m sure my enjoyment of the evening had NOTHING to do with the free flowing champagne and plates of cheese and jamon (that’s cured ham to you and me.)
Today is the last full day in the sessions, and tomorrow is a half day. I’ve got my afternoon mapped out. I’ll navigate the subway to the Ramblas for a walking tour of some Gaudi buildings and shopping. I also intend to seek out the apartment we’ve rented for our return trip in October – which will decrease any anxiety for the solo return trip.
The current presenter is discussing the complex and exciting topic of absorbing radio frequency signals – seriously: dallenback layer and circuit analog Jaumann RAM. Holy shit – I’ve got no idea what this guy is talking about. I guarantee, someone in the room does and will ask this horrifically smart man a question, but it won’t be me. To research the FSS analysis and design try this link: www.ofcom.org.uk Ooh, now he’s talking frequency absorbing paints and coatings. I’m titillated – architectural coatings really get me going!
That’s probably enough for now.
The conference is progressing well. It is somewhat of a challenge being a single gal amongst the 50 year old male European business men. I really try to mingle and make connections – but it is hard and a bit isolating. I had a great conversation last night with the only other gal here from a financial services company – she’s with Behemoth National Bank somewhat of a competitor to my company but when one is starved for meaningful conversation, even George Bush might be fun to talk to. I’m certainly not comparing her to Bushie.
My friends at home joke about my boring job – it’s security but not in the stand-in-the-way-of-a-bullet kind of way – it’s a lot of meetings, writing and research. I’m excited by the myriad of possibilities within this industry, and as a woman I feel like a jr. pioneer. However, yesterday I may have found the topic that puts even me to sleep – “Light Boundary Protection using Fibre-Optic Sensors.” (yes, that’s fibre not fiber we are in Europe.) The topic overview read:
This presentation shows how such technology may be used to provide land or sea-based boundary protection, and presents the results obtained from research and current trends.
During the speech which included graphical representations of seaports with the giant ropes with sensors attached, and graphs comparing these sensors to normal sensors I was inventing new and unique ways to end my life. There is a giant crystal chandelier overhead and I thought that if I threw the bottle of water on my table at it, that it might maybe crash down upon my head and stop the speaker from talking – if I was lucky.
Then it occurred to me that if I unplug my power adapter and put one end of the cord in my mouth and plug the other end into the European socket without the adapter that the electrical shock might be enough to keep me awake.
After the day blissfully ended we headed to our social event which was held at the Poble Espanyole. PE was built in 1929 for the World Exposition to showcase the varied architectures styles across Spain. The area park is approximately 1 ½ football fields in diameter and is designed to look like a small Spanish village all centered upon a square. Each building emulates a real building somewhere in Spain and within each of the facades is a restaurant or shop featuring crafts targeted at the tourist. The shops were fun and I must admit I did succumb to the Spanish tile shop – but managed to skirt the scary painted clown mask shop. *shiver* Abandoning all sense of pride, I pulled out the camera and took a series of shots that if they turn out will be great. At one point in the park I noticed a man and his daughter who was dragging a jump rope. When told by her dad to step it up, she tied the rope around her waist and in doing so accidentally hiked the back end of her skirt up revealing her little girl panties. Once the rope was secured, they went on their way. I couldn't resist taking a photo of the little girl with her big burly dad and her bum hanging out. I confessed my voyeuristic shot to one of my colleagues and he laughed and admitted he took one too.
We were given a private tour of the park and then taken to the “monastery” at the top of the hill for a reception of dinner, cocktails, and handsome singing Spanish men in short pants. We dined outside under orange trees near a bubbling fountain. The “monastery” overlooked the city and as the sun went down the city came to life. It was a beautiful summer night with no wind and if every night in Spain was like that I’d move here tomorrow. I’m sure my enjoyment of the evening had NOTHING to do with the free flowing champagne and plates of cheese and jamon (that’s cured ham to you and me.)
Today is the last full day in the sessions, and tomorrow is a half day. I’ve got my afternoon mapped out. I’ll navigate the subway to the Ramblas for a walking tour of some Gaudi buildings and shopping. I also intend to seek out the apartment we’ve rented for our return trip in October – which will decrease any anxiety for the solo return trip.
The current presenter is discussing the complex and exciting topic of absorbing radio frequency signals – seriously: dallenback layer and circuit analog Jaumann RAM. Holy shit – I’ve got no idea what this guy is talking about. I guarantee, someone in the room does and will ask this horrifically smart man a question, but it won’t be me. To research the FSS analysis and design try this link: www.ofcom.org.uk Ooh, now he’s talking frequency absorbing paints and coatings. I’m titillated – architectural coatings really get me going!
That’s probably enough for now.
Tuesday, June 21, 2005
Barcelona, Spain
There is one important thing to note about the airport in Barcelona. There are three baggage claim areas and it’s not apparent which one is which and once you enter one area it's a do or die decision. Once you choose you're out of the trusted circle of airport security and there's no going back - choose wisely! Out of the KLM wing the signs point to baggage claim, then you reach the main crossing area and the signs point in both direction: A (left) and B (right.) The kiosk screens only display departures. They are also not close to one another. I schlepped my carry on across the world to baggage claim B only to second guess my decision. I asked the “Information” lady:
TP: Para Ingles?
IL: a littleTP: Baggage claim A or B?
IL; que?
TP: miming luggage (two hands clenched into fists at your sides) then “Ahh oh Bah”?
IL: Ah, airline?
TP: KLM
IL: ATP (looking at the big B sign over head) to herself: of course. (to the lady) grathiath
IL: a nod, and then back to her book
[based upon this amazing dialog - i'm sure you are all waiting with baited breath for my novel to be published]
Upon my arrival back to the main intersection which is extremely evident by the hordes of people looking left, then right and left again I took maybe 10 steps toward the A area and found the arrival kiosk. It was right outside the door to the one-way-only access to the baggage claim area.
My other acclimation situation is more of a Europe thing than a Spain thing. The atm key pads are oriented differently than in the States. If you are like me and have your PIN memorized by the word it spells you could be in trouble. The key pad does not have the corresponding letters on it and it is upside down so neither spelling nor finger memory work. After entering the wrong pin twice I panicked (that’s an odd grammar rule right there to add the “ed” to panic you first have to add the “k” – it’s no wonder people hate English) and stepped out of line and quickly drew the key pad the right way with the letters and attempted my transaction one last time. The danger is entering the wrong pin enough to cause the ATM machine to eat my card. Having arrived in Europe with no cash having my card eaten would have added an interesting dimension to the day.
The hotel is lovely and my first task upon arrival was to shower and wash the stink of the 16 hour journey off me. I’m a big fan of the fancy shower installations and my hotel does not disappoint. The overhead shower is a large rain shower type head and the two side heads spray water in a delightfully strong manner to get your back and front at the same time. The only problem is if you have to bend over for any reason, the spray goes promptly up your nose.
I abandoned the hotel hair dryer which is surprisingly weak in comparison with its size. No matter, ten minutes outside and my hair which at home can be damp all day was dry.
I hit the street with my Barcelona map and my camera. This hotel is near the former Olympic Park so I set out to see the sights.
The museum of art is located in a stunning castle like building at the top of a hill opposite a sweeping street that must have been the focal point for the Olympics. To get to the museum you have to climb a well architected staircase complete with enormous water fountains. The fountains weren’t flowing and I figured that because it was Sunday that things were closed. Alas, at 9:30pm when I finally allowed myself to go to bed the fountain show began (think of a European version of the fountain outside of the Belagio Hotel in Las Vegas.) Fortunately, the music was Vivaldi rather than something modern and raucous because it turns out that my room faces the fountains (although the line of sight is obscured by the apartment building next door) and the show starts every half an hour on the hour from 9pm until 11pm. I was delighted to see out my hotel window a marvelous view unobstructed view of the museum – that I completely missed upon my check in.
After the museum, I wanted to see the Poble Espanyol which is a tourist draw that was built for the Olympics. It’s a combination of a streetscape of all types of Spanish architecture and local vendors. My map is confusing because the park is on a hill and things that are located next to one another are actually quite far apart due to the vertical nature of the site. I descended the stairs from the museum to a second set of stairs in a different direction and climbed those to find myself at the museum about 100 yards from the first staircase. I didn’t find the PE which turns out to be a good thing as our conference event will be held there – provided I can find it.
The conference started this morning at the extremely civilized hour of 9:30. Traditionally, we start the events at 8am which was painful in Chicago due to the time change. This time change is more dramatic (my computer clock reads 1:26 am) but since I managed to stick it out until almost 10 last night, I think I’m adjusted.
I've coined a new word for my ongoing "Fictionary"
Confercation: noun, the conference located at a highly desirable location, such as Las Vegas or Hawaii (Barcelona?) thus enabling the employee to maximize conference downtime for personal enjoyment. Justification for attenting the formal event may in fact be questionable.
More tomorrow. (wireless connection at the hotel is 17 euro for a 24 hour period so I'm trying to bridge the days - ooh the lengths I go through to save my company money (while I sleep in a 200 euro a night room with a fancy shower and amazing view of the city.)
TP: Para Ingles?
IL: a littleTP: Baggage claim A or B?
IL; que?
TP: miming luggage (two hands clenched into fists at your sides) then “Ahh oh Bah”?
IL: Ah, airline?
TP: KLM
IL: ATP (looking at the big B sign over head) to herself: of course. (to the lady) grathiath
IL: a nod, and then back to her book
[based upon this amazing dialog - i'm sure you are all waiting with baited breath for my novel to be published]
Upon my arrival back to the main intersection which is extremely evident by the hordes of people looking left, then right and left again I took maybe 10 steps toward the A area and found the arrival kiosk. It was right outside the door to the one-way-only access to the baggage claim area.
My other acclimation situation is more of a Europe thing than a Spain thing. The atm key pads are oriented differently than in the States. If you are like me and have your PIN memorized by the word it spells you could be in trouble. The key pad does not have the corresponding letters on it and it is upside down so neither spelling nor finger memory work. After entering the wrong pin twice I panicked (that’s an odd grammar rule right there to add the “ed” to panic you first have to add the “k” – it’s no wonder people hate English) and stepped out of line and quickly drew the key pad the right way with the letters and attempted my transaction one last time. The danger is entering the wrong pin enough to cause the ATM machine to eat my card. Having arrived in Europe with no cash having my card eaten would have added an interesting dimension to the day.
The hotel is lovely and my first task upon arrival was to shower and wash the stink of the 16 hour journey off me. I’m a big fan of the fancy shower installations and my hotel does not disappoint. The overhead shower is a large rain shower type head and the two side heads spray water in a delightfully strong manner to get your back and front at the same time. The only problem is if you have to bend over for any reason, the spray goes promptly up your nose.
I abandoned the hotel hair dryer which is surprisingly weak in comparison with its size. No matter, ten minutes outside and my hair which at home can be damp all day was dry.
I hit the street with my Barcelona map and my camera. This hotel is near the former Olympic Park so I set out to see the sights.
The museum of art is located in a stunning castle like building at the top of a hill opposite a sweeping street that must have been the focal point for the Olympics. To get to the museum you have to climb a well architected staircase complete with enormous water fountains. The fountains weren’t flowing and I figured that because it was Sunday that things were closed. Alas, at 9:30pm when I finally allowed myself to go to bed the fountain show began (think of a European version of the fountain outside of the Belagio Hotel in Las Vegas.) Fortunately, the music was Vivaldi rather than something modern and raucous because it turns out that my room faces the fountains (although the line of sight is obscured by the apartment building next door) and the show starts every half an hour on the hour from 9pm until 11pm. I was delighted to see out my hotel window a marvelous view unobstructed view of the museum – that I completely missed upon my check in.
After the museum, I wanted to see the Poble Espanyol which is a tourist draw that was built for the Olympics. It’s a combination of a streetscape of all types of Spanish architecture and local vendors. My map is confusing because the park is on a hill and things that are located next to one another are actually quite far apart due to the vertical nature of the site. I descended the stairs from the museum to a second set of stairs in a different direction and climbed those to find myself at the museum about 100 yards from the first staircase. I didn’t find the PE which turns out to be a good thing as our conference event will be held there – provided I can find it.
The conference started this morning at the extremely civilized hour of 9:30. Traditionally, we start the events at 8am which was painful in Chicago due to the time change. This time change is more dramatic (my computer clock reads 1:26 am) but since I managed to stick it out until almost 10 last night, I think I’m adjusted.
I've coined a new word for my ongoing "Fictionary"
Confercation: noun, the conference located at a highly desirable location, such as Las Vegas or Hawaii (Barcelona?) thus enabling the employee to maximize conference downtime for personal enjoyment. Justification for attenting the formal event may in fact be questionable.
More tomorrow. (wireless connection at the hotel is 17 euro for a 24 hour period so I'm trying to bridge the days - ooh the lengths I go through to save my company money (while I sleep in a 200 euro a night room with a fancy shower and amazing view of the city.)
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
the heartbroken office supply guy
Poetry finds you when you need it most. For most people spotting poetry pretty much ended the last day of high school English class. They don't notice that songs on the radio, laughter of children, or the stories of our elderly parents are really poetry in disguise.
Some of us have to be hit over the head with poetry. Others are destined to send it out into the world never to know where it might land or how it effected the person it reached.
A few years ago I was opening a pack of plastic organizers for my boss. They were shipped directly from the plastic organizer company and were sealed in plastic wrap.
As I removed the top organizer I noticed a thin cardboard sheet in the box. It caught my attention because it was covered in handwriting.
This was exciting! So often I forget that a real person makes the things I buy. I imagine the plastic organizer flipping off the conveyor belt and into the box just before the cardboard separator drops in. Then the box is whisked down the belt to the spot that the box folder machine folds the box. But no, at Acme plastic organizer Inc real live people box the plastic organizers.
I was eager to read the message. It could have been anything. I myself have left notes for the future all over the world. My secret hiding spot? I place small rolled up notes inside the tp holders. You see they come apart and its a great place to stow a note. This started when I was a kid and continues to this day.
The plastic organizer note was hard to read. The writing was unmistakably male. But, I made out the poem he wrote:
I want to leave, away from this place
so far away, out of your life
you hurt me girl, took away my heart
throw it in the trash,
now your with him, am misable
and every time I saw you with him
I just want to brake down, brake down and cry
I just wanna brake down and cry.
I smile...but am crying inside.
Misable indeed. I imagine he was so wrecked with pain that writing a poem couldn't ease his suffering. No, he had to send his agony out into the world.
Well, thank you mister plastic organizer boxer man. Your poem was received and I send it out into the world for others to find.
Some of us have to be hit over the head with poetry. Others are destined to send it out into the world never to know where it might land or how it effected the person it reached.
A few years ago I was opening a pack of plastic organizers for my boss. They were shipped directly from the plastic organizer company and were sealed in plastic wrap.
As I removed the top organizer I noticed a thin cardboard sheet in the box. It caught my attention because it was covered in handwriting.
This was exciting! So often I forget that a real person makes the things I buy. I imagine the plastic organizer flipping off the conveyor belt and into the box just before the cardboard separator drops in. Then the box is whisked down the belt to the spot that the box folder machine folds the box. But no, at Acme plastic organizer Inc real live people box the plastic organizers.
I was eager to read the message. It could have been anything. I myself have left notes for the future all over the world. My secret hiding spot? I place small rolled up notes inside the tp holders. You see they come apart and its a great place to stow a note. This started when I was a kid and continues to this day.
The plastic organizer note was hard to read. The writing was unmistakably male. But, I made out the poem he wrote:
I want to leave, away from this place
so far away, out of your life
you hurt me girl, took away my heart
throw it in the trash,
now your with him, am misable
and every time I saw you with him
I just want to brake down, brake down and cry
I just wanna brake down and cry.
I smile...but am crying inside.
Misable indeed. I imagine he was so wrecked with pain that writing a poem couldn't ease his suffering. No, he had to send his agony out into the world.
Well, thank you mister plastic organizer boxer man. Your poem was received and I send it out into the world for others to find.
Friday, June 10, 2005
TPgal vs. Jennifer Aniston... the winner is: Jennifer
When you're measuring your life by how you stack up to others your success or failure is totally dependent on whom you choose as a yard stick.I find it so interesting and humbling that the people I measure against also look to others for validation. (This means that I’m not the only neurotic person in the world.)
My ex-friend Demonica (I swear, I will get into that later) made statements that made me realize she thought I had it all: good job, decent pay, my own home and money to travel once a year and once in a blue moon to places like Italy. I look at Juniper and see someone who runs a successful small business, has a beautiful daughter, a husband who is a total delight and the ability to grow a lush garden and I think "wow, my life is shit". Juni looks at Yazmine who just got married and moved into a behemoth house and can only compare her fabulous but 100 year old house and think something is lacking.I suppose it’s good that we aren't friends with anyone REALLY successful.
I was complaining at work about being one of the lowest paid on the team. (Note to managers PEOPLE TALK to each other!!!!). My wise mentor told me to take a chill pill because when compared to the average for the state I'm well above, and in comparison to the rest of the world I'm in the stratosphere. He wasn't being dismissive, but trying to give me some perspective.
One of the big regrets for me at the moment is the fact that I haven't found my Mr. Tpgal. I worry that I won't have a family and that I'll die alone. (Not soon mind you). But, when I look at the unhappily married I am filled with relief as it seems better to be alone than miserable. Not all married folks are miserable – but the ones that are scare the daylights out of me. How on earth do you get married to someone and then end up hating them? It just seems like an unbelievable leap even though it happens.
I guess the lesson is (and now, on a very special episode of Blossom…) be thankful for what you’ve got. There’s always someone who has a hell of a lot less.
My ex-friend Demonica (I swear, I will get into that later) made statements that made me realize she thought I had it all: good job, decent pay, my own home and money to travel once a year and once in a blue moon to places like Italy. I look at Juniper and see someone who runs a successful small business, has a beautiful daughter, a husband who is a total delight and the ability to grow a lush garden and I think "wow, my life is shit". Juni looks at Yazmine who just got married and moved into a behemoth house and can only compare her fabulous but 100 year old house and think something is lacking.I suppose it’s good that we aren't friends with anyone REALLY successful.
I was complaining at work about being one of the lowest paid on the team. (Note to managers PEOPLE TALK to each other!!!!). My wise mentor told me to take a chill pill because when compared to the average for the state I'm well above, and in comparison to the rest of the world I'm in the stratosphere. He wasn't being dismissive, but trying to give me some perspective.
One of the big regrets for me at the moment is the fact that I haven't found my Mr. Tpgal. I worry that I won't have a family and that I'll die alone. (Not soon mind you). But, when I look at the unhappily married I am filled with relief as it seems better to be alone than miserable. Not all married folks are miserable – but the ones that are scare the daylights out of me. How on earth do you get married to someone and then end up hating them? It just seems like an unbelievable leap even though it happens.
I guess the lesson is (and now, on a very special episode of Blossom…) be thankful for what you’ve got. There’s always someone who has a hell of a lot less.
Friday, June 03, 2005
Damn the blog eating editor
So - I just wrote this totally funny and witty entry about sports in the office and then moved on to an embarrassing revelation about a baton and was able to preview the entry and got an 'error' upon attempting to publish.
Arrrg.
Here's the abbreviated run down:
Work sucks -- funny joke about photo-copying money - (a disclaimer to Mr. Secret Service treasury agent that it was A JOKE and that I'm not really a candidate for detention in Guantanamo Bay)
my co-worker Sport Boy asked me to show him my softball "arm" and I nailed him in the Fred Flintstone with the Princess Diana beanie baby. Princess Di was borrowed from the receptionists desk - I don't have beanie babies in my life.
My softball team is called "team #2" (thank you uninspired team coordinator) - to make the shitty name seem more like a purposeful thing we are making signs:
Go Number 2!
Gosh - the other post was so good that I'm heartbroken.
Lastly -- the embarrassing revelation about the baton was that I actually use to be a twirler. It's good this is somewhat anonymous or I might never live it down. I wasn't good enough to graduate to FIRE BATON - but I didn't suck so bad that I ever hit anyone in the Fred Flintstone either.
Sigh -- I guess I should write these in word or some other evil product and copy it over. I know, save your work.
I hate IM. It sucks. I want to kill myself every time it pops up.
Arrrg.
Here's the abbreviated run down:
Work sucks -- funny joke about photo-copying money - (a disclaimer to Mr. Secret Service treasury agent that it was A JOKE and that I'm not really a candidate for detention in Guantanamo Bay)
my co-worker Sport Boy asked me to show him my softball "arm" and I nailed him in the Fred Flintstone with the Princess Diana beanie baby. Princess Di was borrowed from the receptionists desk - I don't have beanie babies in my life.
My softball team is called "team #2" (thank you uninspired team coordinator) - to make the shitty name seem more like a purposeful thing we are making signs:
Go Number 2!
Gosh - the other post was so good that I'm heartbroken.
Lastly -- the embarrassing revelation about the baton was that I actually use to be a twirler. It's good this is somewhat anonymous or I might never live it down. I wasn't good enough to graduate to FIRE BATON - but I didn't suck so bad that I ever hit anyone in the Fred Flintstone either.
Sigh -- I guess I should write these in word or some other evil product and copy it over. I know, save your work.
I hate IM. It sucks. I want to kill myself every time it pops up.
Monday, May 23, 2005
ah, Monday's
After a mildly uneventful weekend - today started out good. I woke up more than 45 minutes before my alarm went off, and I was able to pretend it was Saturday for a while.
I made it to the bus stop in time to make the 7:28 bus. After parking the tp-mobile and wandering over to the bus stop I realized things were amiss. There were way too many people in line - and I took a second look at my watch only to realize I was much later than 7:28 and the bus had not yet arrived. After queuing up and watching the line grow it became clear the bus wasn't just late it wasn't coming. So, opting not to hop in my car to go to a different park n' ride I decided to wait for the 7:48... 7:50 no bus... 8:00 no bus. CHRIST -- it's not like I really wanted to go.
8:10 a bus arrives and the 40 of us pile on the driver announces that not only is he late - but he's not the normal driver and he needs assistance getting us into the city. I arrived at my desk at 8:50 - which for my office is late enough to raise eyebrows.
Today has been one of those days where I want to do one thing, but every time I start to focus the phone rings or the *&%^ing Instant Messenger pops up. I loathe IM and find it horribly rude and disruptive. I started out attempting to update a report (at 9 am) and have since had to 'quickly' pull together a 5 page overview of our internet policy (exciting), edit some other departments procedure, find business contacts for a department who has re-orged, determine if the addendum to a vendor contract is sufficient (do I LOOK like a lawyer... NO I DO NOT) and a finish the guest list for an event my group is hosting. All I want to do is bury my head in the report but I can't get 5 uninterrupted minutes.
My defense mechanism for when things get too harried is to fart around on the web. If I'm unable to focus - I'll search for interesting facts (who won the daytime Emmy for best talk show - Ellen Degeneris, the latest info on the Wendy's Chili-Finger incident: the finger owner traded his severed finger to a dude to repay a $50 debt, and check up on the crazy antics of Rob, Fuzzy, and Bucky in the Get Fuzzy comic strip. ) Oh, and I guess I should confess that I'm also updating my 'blog' instead of using my 10 minutes of down time to stay caught up.
I'm sad that May is coming to an end. Good tv is wrapping up and this summer will be a droll wash of 'reality tv' and re-runs. Thank goodness for on-demand and DVD's. I'm still a huge fan of Netflix.com even though I chose cable over them. Maybe I'll sign up for the summer.
Anyway -- I wanted to complain about desperate Housewives. I don't care that they killed someone in the finale - it was dull as sh*t. If I hadn't of donated blood Sunday afternoon I may have been able to get up and turn it off. I can't really decide if I like the show or not. With Lost - the answer is so clear. I haven't loved a show like Lost since X-Files. "Don't say I never did nuthin' fer ya Scully." But DH -- eh, whatever.
I do love a good cry and Extreme Home makeover brought it last night. They pulled out dead soldiers, ancient Native American's and jacuzzi tubs. It was glorious. I blubbered all night.
So - in spite of the fact that I arrived at work at almost 9am -- I'm leavin' early. I can't focus and my heart isn't in it. Maybe I'll go to a 4:00 "Meeting" and not come back...
it's a plan!
I made it to the bus stop in time to make the 7:28 bus. After parking the tp-mobile and wandering over to the bus stop I realized things were amiss. There were way too many people in line - and I took a second look at my watch only to realize I was much later than 7:28 and the bus had not yet arrived. After queuing up and watching the line grow it became clear the bus wasn't just late it wasn't coming. So, opting not to hop in my car to go to a different park n' ride I decided to wait for the 7:48... 7:50 no bus... 8:00 no bus. CHRIST -- it's not like I really wanted to go.
8:10 a bus arrives and the 40 of us pile on the driver announces that not only is he late - but he's not the normal driver and he needs assistance getting us into the city. I arrived at my desk at 8:50 - which for my office is late enough to raise eyebrows.
Today has been one of those days where I want to do one thing, but every time I start to focus the phone rings or the *&%^ing Instant Messenger pops up. I loathe IM and find it horribly rude and disruptive. I started out attempting to update a report (at 9 am) and have since had to 'quickly' pull together a 5 page overview of our internet policy (exciting), edit some other departments procedure, find business contacts for a department who has re-orged, determine if the addendum to a vendor contract is sufficient (do I LOOK like a lawyer... NO I DO NOT) and a finish the guest list for an event my group is hosting. All I want to do is bury my head in the report but I can't get 5 uninterrupted minutes.
My defense mechanism for when things get too harried is to fart around on the web. If I'm unable to focus - I'll search for interesting facts (who won the daytime Emmy for best talk show - Ellen Degeneris, the latest info on the Wendy's Chili-Finger incident: the finger owner traded his severed finger to a dude to repay a $50 debt, and check up on the crazy antics of Rob, Fuzzy, and Bucky in the Get Fuzzy comic strip. ) Oh, and I guess I should confess that I'm also updating my 'blog' instead of using my 10 minutes of down time to stay caught up.
I'm sad that May is coming to an end. Good tv is wrapping up and this summer will be a droll wash of 'reality tv' and re-runs. Thank goodness for on-demand and DVD's. I'm still a huge fan of Netflix.com even though I chose cable over them. Maybe I'll sign up for the summer.
Anyway -- I wanted to complain about desperate Housewives. I don't care that they killed someone in the finale - it was dull as sh*t. If I hadn't of donated blood Sunday afternoon I may have been able to get up and turn it off. I can't really decide if I like the show or not. With Lost - the answer is so clear. I haven't loved a show like Lost since X-Files. "Don't say I never did nuthin' fer ya Scully." But DH -- eh, whatever.
I do love a good cry and Extreme Home makeover brought it last night. They pulled out dead soldiers, ancient Native American's and jacuzzi tubs. It was glorious. I blubbered all night.
So - in spite of the fact that I arrived at work at almost 9am -- I'm leavin' early. I can't focus and my heart isn't in it. Maybe I'll go to a 4:00 "Meeting" and not come back...
it's a plan!
Wednesday, May 18, 2005
No thanks, those oysters look like vaginas.
After resisting the urge to blog I'm now hooked. Last night on the way home I was self narrating my actions. It was like living in the world of SIN CITY only without the creepy Frodo character.
Start Narration:
She stood at the inner city bus stop pretending to be engaged in her book so as not to draw the ire of the overly loud woman in the purple tights who smelled of the street...
Nope -- SUCKS
Re-start Narration:
Replacing the sour milk on the top shelf of the icebox she scolded herself for fogetting to take care of her own needs. Goldie, it's laziness that you don't have food in the fridge.
Nope - still sucks.
It's silly how things that sound good in your head look so bad on paper, or worse when you say them out loud. I may never live down some things that I've said out loud. My friend Juniper (names have been changed to protect the unwilling) will never forget the time I disparaged her new car. It's been 4 years and every time we're in the car it's a matter of minutes before I hear: so do you STILL think that only gay people drive Subaru's? If I could jump back in time and shut the f*ck up I would. I was parrotting something someone else said and I'll never live it down.
Don't get me wrong - I don't care what kind of cars gay people drive -- but my liberal self hopes they stay away from the gas guzzling republi-cars. Why reward those who hate you?
I've said many many other things that have been just plain wrong...
some true examples:
"Dora, when Yazmine dies will you be my best-friend?"
"Now that the German wall has come down, you must feel great joy."
"You want to buy a window shade, hold on I'll page a blind person for you."
"No thanks, those oysters look like vaginas."
you just can't get better than that... later
Start Narration:
She stood at the inner city bus stop pretending to be engaged in her book so as not to draw the ire of the overly loud woman in the purple tights who smelled of the street...
Nope -- SUCKS
Re-start Narration:
Replacing the sour milk on the top shelf of the icebox she scolded herself for fogetting to take care of her own needs. Goldie, it's laziness that you don't have food in the fridge.
Nope - still sucks.
It's silly how things that sound good in your head look so bad on paper, or worse when you say them out loud. I may never live down some things that I've said out loud. My friend Juniper (names have been changed to protect the unwilling) will never forget the time I disparaged her new car. It's been 4 years and every time we're in the car it's a matter of minutes before I hear: so do you STILL think that only gay people drive Subaru's? If I could jump back in time and shut the f*ck up I would. I was parrotting something someone else said and I'll never live it down.
Don't get me wrong - I don't care what kind of cars gay people drive -- but my liberal self hopes they stay away from the gas guzzling republi-cars. Why reward those who hate you?
I've said many many other things that have been just plain wrong...
some true examples:
"Dora, when Yazmine dies will you be my best-friend?"
"Now that the German wall has come down, you must feel great joy."
"You want to buy a window shade, hold on I'll page a blind person for you."
"No thanks, those oysters look like vaginas."
you just can't get better than that... later
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