Saturday, September 17, 2005

Brawny is NOT Scrawny

Has anyone seen the commercial for Brawny paper towels where the supposed hot guy is making a birthday cake for Mrs. Parker?


First of all, this guy is not hot. He's got weird hair. And the look he's giving us-though it's supposed to be sexy-is kind of psycho-killer crazy. He's also swiveling his hips when he starts frosting the cake, which makes me cringe every time I see it. He has nice eyes, but that's about it.

The narrator makes me nuts too..."Oh nice touch, she'll like that..." he says when the brawny guy is spreading cool whip-like frosting on the top of a cake with a spatula. Whatever! I think it's weird dude, that you're talking to another dude in that voice about Mrs. Parker "liking that" in a seductive voice.

And also, why the puppy? I mean, the puppy has frosting on it's nose and narrator says, "Oh, he's been a bad boy" or something like that in a "Santa Baby" pouty type voice. I think it would have been a better choice to make cake boy the bad boy. Mrs. Parker, I suspect, would have liked that better too. And screw the paper towels, I think if I were her, and the brawny guy was actually hot, I would opt for licking the frosting off instead of wiping it off. But that's just me. (God gave us tongues for a reason, right?)

The other part of the commercial that I dislike is what the man is wearing. Now, I get it-he's supposed to be "brawny" so I understand the plaid shirt. I actually love a man in plaid. But when paired with jeans that are so tight I can see what kind of circumcision he has-I'm done. Really.

And the thing is, you can't help but look. He comes sauntering up to the camera with a cake in 1 hand and a puppy in the other and a big bulge over his right leg. Gross.

I guess I'm not a "size matters" kind of gal, but even if you are-how can that be attractive? Mystery is good. Let me imagine what's under those there pants of yours big guy.

Week End Review

What a wacky week! When I finally fell into bed this morning around 3am, I closed my eyes and saw moving road-kind of like I felt at the end of every drive to Florida and back.

When driving around the state looking for people's houses, I will always have to pee when I'm in East Buttfuck. There will be no fast food chains, no gas stations and no general stores. There will only be 1 tractor shop with Wally the Wonder Boy inside. He will have 1 eye and a bushy beard, and he will let me use his bathroom in exchange for a looky look at my boobies.

Also when driving around the state looking for people's houses, I will end up peeing in my pants while running from Wally the Wonder Boy.

Mapping programs are idiot savant-like when identifying the exact .012545 of a mile in which you will have to turn, but ours will always neglect to mention which exit you have to get off of, or which way you have to turn.

Not all roads are marked with signs and some have more than 1.

It's funny when you drive down a dirt road and realize about 2 miles in that it's closed for construction. It's even funnier when Wally the Wonder Boy's brother is the construction dude and he tells you to hold on a minute and he'll get them to let me pass...and don't worry, the road's only ripped up a little bit and it won'd damage your new car...much.

Hearing my niece say "everyday I'll eat all the nuts!" is wicked funny. Especially when she later exclaims "I have NUT breath!"

I've figured Bambi out: She can't possibly have a brain in there. That's where the problem originates.

The highlight of my week was being invited inside a mobsters house while his wife talked to me about her tummy tuck and her implants and how the "dirty Russian doctor" (her words, not mine) gave her an infection. I'm still amazed by the variety of people living in this state.

I know I'm getting old when my sisters are talking about tequila and eating the worm and mention that they've heard you trip when you eat it. The "I'm getting old" part comes in when after a few minutes I interrupt and say, "Maybe they've just heard the rumor too and just pretend to fall down so they aren't left out." and then realize they're talking hallucinate trip and not I've fallen and I can't get up trip.

I think it's funny that whenever my friend and I go to eat we get the strangest person in the joint as our waiter.

It makes sense that the first person sent to my dating profile in months looked like a monchichi.

Talking to rude people in the same tone of voice they are using really works. Just be sure to use the tone after they have, absolving you of all guilt of being rude yourself.

I'm sad that when I go to The Big E, I won't get to see Bambi's uncle. He's only there for 1 day and then he leaves, making him the amazing disappearing petting zoo guy. Damn it.

Sometimes getting frustrated and yelling at your boss works as I proved when I yelled, "You need to decide what you want me to be-an admin person or a manager-you decide and I'll be that one but I'm not going to be both anymore!" 10 minutes later I had an ad emailed to me for the admin job saying it was posted on 4 or 5 websites. Besides being a guy who has solo golf outings in the bathroom, this also makes him a pretty cool boss.

I'm spent. This was a long week, and I for one and psyched it's Saturday. Have a great weekend everyone!!!

Friday, September 16, 2005

Office Quirks

Reason number 543876 I know I work in a weird office:

Today my boss was in the men's room in his underwear while my friend Megan mended the hole that was in his pants.

While in the bathroom, he practiced his golf swing in his underwear because "there's a mirror in there!".

And all of this is not so strange, I suppose, except that he volunteered this information.

Nice. Picturing my boss (who is very attractive, I'll admit) in his underwear in a handicapped accessible men's room swinging an invisible golf club (a 9 iron he said) while looking in the mirror...


Gus In The Paperclip

Sorry Kids...didn't realize I'd disappoint so many people in not keeping up with my blog. That makes me happy. And sorry again because this is all I have-though it did make me laugh out loud.

In an e-mail from C-Unit:

Hi, Can you read Spanish? I think this customer is cursing at me! See if you can find out what this says! Thanks!

Gus en el clip encontraras todo el rollo con esta vieja.

In a second e-mail after she attempted to translate it online because I was not in my office:

Gus in the paper clip you found all the roll with this old woman.

Somehow, I think that's wrong. I think maybe he said, "Gusten" for "Like" but even still, that's loco en la cabeza.

Thursday, September 15, 2005

Don't Talk, Just Rub

What's the verdict on hairdressers? Should they or should they no talk to you when you are in their chair?

My opinion is this: Unless you're my fabulous and extraordinarily cute regular stylist, Jamie, (unfortunate name, but a female) I don't think I want you to talk whilst carelessly snipping at my locks. And also, if you are talking just for the sake of talking-I'd really rather you didn't. I mean, I don't really need to know about how your mother falls asleep during movies and ends up snoring the whole time or that you donated (only) 2 bottles of water for Katrina victims and got movie tickets, which then led to the listing of every single movie you love.

I also don't care for it when you seem to be listening until I throw out a question and then you don't answer. I mean, really. What's up with that? Either talk, or don't talk. We're supposed to be covering up the grays during this visit, not talking through them.

And yes, I'm sure I don't have a sister named Sarah. My sisters are C-Unit and Flipper (I'm so proud). If I had a sister named Sarah, I'm pretty sure I'd admit it, if only for the plain and simple fact that I'd like to know why YOU know her.

I did refrain from commenting on this, only because you have the fingers of a goddess and I fell in love with you when you shampooed (and massaged) my head for 10 minutes. I think if I hadn't just spent $80 plus a tip, I would have bought you a ring and promptly proposed. Except for the whole "I'm not a lesbian" thing, I'm sure we would have been very happy.

So-in the future, please note that I do not wish to converse with you unless you have something true and interesting to say. Do not ask me questions if you do not want the answers. Your tip is based soley on those magic fingers of yours so please don't feel the need to entertain me as I always bring a book to these things, and will be fine.

Thank you for your attention and look forward to you rubbing my head again in 6-8 weeks.

Boring Stories...

Wednesday, September 14, 2005

Firsts and Lasts

To heck with first kisses. I mean, yeah-potentially fantasmically wonderful...I haven't kissed many people in the grand scheme of things so the ratio of good kisses to bad is pretty good for me. But still-why do so many people focus on the first kiss?

Yeah-ok, I get it..."The first time our lips met I felt sparks" or "I knew he was the man I was going to marry." WhatEVER! The sparks? They're called nerves. And if he's hot, it's called lust. And you KNEW you'd marry him? How?* Ok. I can kind of give you this one. But to KNOW he was the one? I think maybe he just used Binaca. It's got a really high alcohol content. You were DRUNK! And who doesn't love minty breath? And did he have Drakkar on? Shit. Pheromones! Gets us every time, doesn't it ladies?

Screw the first kiss. I want to talk lasts.

Why don't people say, "I'm contemplating dumping you in a few days...get your Chapstick out. We've gotta lotta making out to do." You know? I mean, really. Why not go out with a really good knock 'em dead, take-your-breath-away kiss?

I think this should be in the dating handbook. Right before "How to Grovel Your Way Back After the Last Kiss Left You Wanting More" and right after "Binaca 101-Do You Really Want A Wife?" Does anyone know how I can get in touch with the editors?

*All kidding aside, I really need to know the answer to this question-Megan? Hamel? Pedro? Any other random married person? Anyone? Anyone?? Is this thing even ON?!

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Deer Crossing

Recently Overheard:
"It's a real catch 21"
" 1?"
A la Bambi...and someone above her. (Not me this time!)

With A Cherry On Top??

This, I already know, is not going to work out. Because questions on blogs usually don't. But I don't easily give up, and so what the hell, I'll try it again.

Out of the 17-32 people who stop by my blog daily, only a handfull of you comment. And I love, love, LOVE you to pieces for doing that. The rest of you?! What's up? I understand-you may be shy. But c'mon-do you think "C-Unit" is someone's real name? NO! Get those creative juices a flowin' and make up a fun name if you don't want to be known! But answer these questions damn it. (Pretty sure I just pissed off 20-31 of you.) What have you got to lose? There are no provocative questions, unless your answers are a little swanky (which could be fun mind you) but they don't need to be...boring and unpretentious ROCKS. Really.

So, wiggle those typin' fingers and stretch your brain and answer some freakin' questions!!! I love you all. Please come back!!

What is the best compliment you've ever received?
I think I have 2. The first came indirectly through my ex-boyfriend who was talking to my old musical director. I didn't even think she liked me, but when she realized who he was she said, "Mags is one of the most talented theatrical singers that ever came through our school district." That made me beam because we had a lot of talent in our school. 2 people even became professionals. The second one is something that many people tell me-I am a strong woman. This makes me happy b/c it comes from different people-sometimes people I wouldn't even think would have noticed something like that. And also, who wants to be weak? ;-)
What was your biggest challenge in the last year.
My biggest challenge this year has been rebuilding my confidence after the Jamie situation. In many ways it catapulted me over the edge in confidence because I made the change-I came back to live here right away and I took the necessary steps to change my life. But it also shattered my trust in my instincts and made me wonder why I allowed him to do to me what he did for so long. There's also now always the fear that the person I meet will be wrong, or will I ever meet the right person or that they won't like me because of what happened (added to the divorce) And also being physically afraid sometimes sucks too.
Finish these two statements:
I never thought I'd...
Be 29 and divorced without a long term serious relationship to speak of and without children. I never thought I'd be living on my own in my own home or that I would be in the same job for 5 years and that I would essentially be a decision maker there. I view this as a huge success though I sometimes complain because it's a lot of work.
I will never forget the first time I...
Chose not to come home from work one day because I no longer wanted to live the life I was living. Fun ones-The first time I kissed a boy (in the woods behind his house-Christian was his name), the first time I heard the words "I love you" from a boy (My 6 yr Mass hottie boyfriend-still the hottest guy I've kissed), the first time I lived away from home (Westfield State College, Scanlon Hall with Sarah Asscrack as a roomie), the first time I tried to parallel park (In the Super Stop & Shop parking lot with my dad-who yelled at me because I drove a shopping cart across the lot), and the first time I held my niece (3 years ago in Middlesex. I had on a pink sundress and a pink sweater. I left work early and my boss said, "Be strong kid, I know you're not a mother today, but you're an aunt, and that will quickly become one of the most important things in your life. You'll see" He's so very smart!)

Yeah, no one's gonna answer these...

Monday, September 12, 2005

Nudes Reclining

Terror On Church Street

If there's one thing I know, it's that we're not alone. I strongly believe in spirits and ghosts and can honestly say that at one time or another, I've known I was in their presence. Naturally, when I saw this story about Church Street Station in my old stomping ground of Orlando, Fl, I chuckled.

Church Street was the famous site of "Terror on Church Street"-the freakiest, craziest haunted house type thing EVER. Even driving by it during the day was freaky-they had people in costumes standing on the corner waving at you. Sometimes we'd be going to the piano bar nearby and one of them would just walk up to us and freak us the shit out. It eventually closed down, but that erie feeling still remained.

What's interesting to me is that I actually had to take an off campus class on Church Street when I went to UCF. The building it was in was owned by the school, but it attached to some of the church street entertainment facilities....I'm thinking it was actually the building they are writing about in the article.

Why do I think this? Because I couldn't go to the bathroom when no one else was in there. One time I walked into the bathroom and felt sort of panicky (and no, it wasn't because I really had to go). I walked into the stall, turned around and walked out. Without peeing. I just knew I wasn't alone, and whoever it was that was in there, did not want me to pee. I also was one of the first people to get to class each day and one time while I was waiting for the prof, I felt someone behind me, and I turned around only to see air. But-I knew someone was there-I felt the air move as though someone walked by. Yet another time, I had to go to the upper level and took the elevator. Bad move. I suddenly felt like couldn't breath and the air got thick. It was as though someone turned on a heat lamp or something and I was in a sauna-except there was no ventilation.

I think the semester after this class was when I started taking online courses. Though my ex-husband could be scary at times, at least I could physically see what he was up to!

I don't blame those restaurant owners one bit for shying away from what could easily become a real life "Terror On Church Street".

Sunday, September 11, 2005

Re-Naming & Re-Growing

Please don't stare-I know I look ugly without eyebrows...

Yup, I burned them off, just like I thought. It just took a day longer to do so. Remember though, I'm Italian, and so hair grows back fast.

"What on earth is she talking about" you wonder? Well, let me give you an update. Mr. CM will have to be given a new name on my blog. Though I am sure that his mouth will remain cute, I am no longer able to kiss it, and I therefore can't possilby continue to call him Mr. CM. (We've made the move from dating to being friends) I'm sure the new name I come up with will be fun, and I'm also pretty sure Spanish (Though Pedro might be a little jealous).

So what this eventually means is that after a little bit of mourning on my part, I'm going to have to get back into the dating game again, and that really stinks. It stinks more than rotting skunk in a garbage heap.

Graphic, I know, but that's how much I hate the initial dating process. And, as my real life family and friends know, I wanted Mr. CM to be "him". Mostly because of the off the wall things he says and thinks, but also because of how smart he is. And, well, yes, he's hot. But ANYWAY, now I have to re-grow eyebrows and that process isn't fun. It's a lot of, "Why didn't this matter?" or "Why did I tell myself I didn't care about this?" Tiring.

Here are some of the reasons I hate the initial dating process:

1. I inevitably get someone who is uglier than my old Shar Pei Lance. This guy? Always the one who likes me more than I like him.
2. I also inevitably get someone who stutters. Not that there's anything wrong with this, but it's really startin' to freak me out!
3. Short men apparently have the same personality as I do, because all the men who are 4'11" to 5"8" end up in my inbox. I'm almost 5'10" and so short men are clearly a turn off for me.
4. Bald men too-it's like someone told them I am afraid of them and they all get together and say, "That can't be! We're wonderful people! Let's convert her!" Here's the thing: if you have a full head of hair and I fall in love with you and THEN you go bald-not so bad. But you can't start out that way.
5. I don't want to date people I can't see on a regular basis. I mean, if the guy lives in Uganda-well, I don't think there's a good possibility of getting to know him. I should be able to pick an area larger than 30 miles, but less than 5000, don't ya think?
6. Men from Uganda love me. Maybe they have a fear of commitment, and that's why they always want to talk. "You know I love you baby, but I can't marry you because-I'm in Uganda..." WhatEVER!
7. The older you get, the more aware you are of how long it takes to get to know someone. At some point, you honestly wish you were in a fairy tale and would fall in love instantly.
8. Ugh. First kisses. They can be magical and perfect. I've had them. But mostly-just stressful and awkward.
9. First dates-though I think from now on I'm always going to choose the scariest movie I can find. Because though we've ended in "just friends" status, I did have fun w/ Mr. CM and I feel the scary movie broke the ice. Shattered it actually, as we both lunged toward each other to bury our faces in fear.
10. You just never know. And not knowing is frightening. I can't help thinking, "Is this going to be the last first date I go on?"-and that's my problem. I dream of that perfect meeting when someone will see in me what I hope to see in them, and it won't be ups and downs and what ifs or if'll just be the "You make me smiles" and "I like your laughs" forever and ever, Amen.

So, ladies and gents, that's where I stand today. Luckily enough, I still have a friend and hopefully will get to keep him. Not so luckily, it will take a few times of seeing him as just friends before the urge to hug and kiss him subsides.

Now, I've got to start re-growing these eyebrows. My lovely friends in Uganda may be waiting...

More Randomivity

They say "We'll never forget" but people do. People have. People go on, wading through life's randomivity-stuffing the images they saw that day, ignoring the feelings that resurge when they see the numbers 911 together, or when they hear the name Osama. Today, I remember. I remember the tears, the panic, the not knowing who was next, or when. And most of all, I remember those who are still living, knowing they can never forget. God bless you all.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
(I think it's possible to remember and still live-healthy even!)

Sometimes, it's just really fun to annoy someone by acting exactly like them. The other day a woman gave me the finger. So I gave it back to her. Then she started moving her head back & forth all angry & stuff, & I thought it was funny so I laughed & that made her more angry. And then her head was going more so I did it back & well, it was just fun.

(Sometimes my enter key doesn't work when I'm in Blogger and it really pisses me off.)

Having a child say "I love you and I can't wait to see you" makes you feel really good. Especially if it's a child who normally doesn't say that kind of thing.

Hearing your friend say, "Is it me or does dude look like a lady?" in a completely serious way is actually quite funny.

Writing to an old friend feels pretty good, especially when they write back the same day, and especially when the friendship ended in a a bad way.

Reaching my 5 year anniversary with my company is a good feeling. But it's sort of short lived when a thank you packet comes in the mail telling me to choose from a catalog filled with $20 gifts. My choice is seriously between a cork screw and a colander. Think Fingerhut.

Getting free stuff for buying something you were going to buy anyway is extremely fun.

It's funny being on the phone with a Spankme fan during a game against the Red Sox. Not funny? Not being able to carry a conversation without a, "Yes!" or "Fuck you Spankme loser!"

Taking your own advice is wicked hard. Especially when your heart is involved.

Making a choice to be happy works. It just sucks on those days when you have to choose instead of just being.

It's a good feeling when someone says they haven't seen the mean in you. It's a bad feeling when they follow that with "until now".

No matter how hard I try-me and sundried tomatoes....not friends.

Yes, I know. It's weird that I just made reference to a tomato as a friend. Can't you just laugh and move on?

It's way super cool to have me and my blog mentioned in another blog-but even more way super cool that it's overseas...I'm internationally famous. (And, just so you know-he's got a British accent)

Of course, I don't actually know this last statement to be true, for I've never actually talked with him. I guess it's also true that I don't know if 'he' is actually a man. The only thing I do know is that his computer logs in as London England and he says cool things like, "Chap" and "Tum". But, this is my blog, and I'm gonna keep thinking he's got a lovely accent.

I've talked about it before, and I'm ready to make the plunge. I'm converting to whatever culture/religion that believes in arranged marriages. No waiting, no dating and no uncertainties...just pure

Scratch that last one. I'm not giving up. Someday, my prince will come. (Actually, I need to change this one too-it's gotta read, "Someday my prince will stay." Yeah, that fits better.

Which leads me to hopefully my last point, because I'm sure that by now most of you have clicked off of this blog screaming in agony because I'm rambling. I'm some sort of freak when it comes to Disney. I knew just by looking at a photo of 2 girls who were standing in front of an obscure pin stand, where in the World they were-exactly. And, I knew the name of the shop.

I need help on so many levels....

Thanks for stoppin' by-you light up my life and all that jazz.