Saturday, October 01, 2005


Sometimes a cow eats grass from the pasture all on its own and other times it wants to be fed. And maybe it doesn't know why, it's just the way it is.

That's all.

Mall Rats

Everyone has ugly days. Usually for me it's on a day when I over slept and didn't have time to shower and so I just put my hair in a ponytail, wash my face, brush my teeth and go. Yesterday was one of those days.

Now, for the record, I don't think I am ugly. In fact, I think I have a pretty face and know that I could look a lot worse. That being said, I was ugly yesterday.

I hear people say all of the time, "You shouldn't wash your hair everyday, it's not good for it." Well, I tried. It just doesn't work. It ends up flying away on it's own or laying flat and playing dead. And then there's the fact that I have bangs. Bangs should always be washed-everyday. I would grow them out, but I don't think the "Cousin Itt" look becomes me, and so I suffer the silent sufferings of a "banged" woman.

I think the girls who say they don't wash daily are lying-mostly because they are the ones who always look fantastic. (It's a conspiracy, I am sure. About what though, I am not sure) My only saving Grace is that I have long hair and I can put it up. But even then, it's horrendous.

And, just so you know, you should never go shopping when you are feeling ugly. Because you just end up looking at all of the beautiful people who never seem to have ugly days shop, shop, shop-a-rooing and it makes you want to punch them. This would be terrible because jailbait orange doesn't look good on ANYONE. Talk about ugly.

So, my advice to all of you who have an "ugly day" in the near future is to call in sick and spend the day doing something you love. It would be best to keep it indoors though because, well, you're ugly...

Oh, and take a shower.

Friday, September 30, 2005

Spread Em

A select few of you have already heard this story from the other day, but it's still making me smile, and so I'm gonna tell it again.

The other day someone who I've seen daily over the last couple of years but never really spoken much to said:

"I remember you from 2 years ago and you were always so sad. Now you're always beaming and smiling and laughing and you light up the whole room."


It's wonderful to know that what I feel inside (happier than ever) is coming through, even to strangers. It was nice to hear someone acknowledge the change they've seen in me since the Jamie thing, and awesome to know that this is how I am perceived:happy.

So I started thinking: This little compliment really made my day yesterday. Everyone likes to be acknowledged, and everyone loves a compliment. So why not hand them out freely? I can't count the number of times I've seen someone-anyone-and thought something nice about them. But I never tell them. Why is that?

So I am going to start telling them. At least once a day I am going to compliment someone-as long as I truly believe it. (I'm not going to tell the Glasses Too Big For Her Face Lady that she looks pretty when she doesn't)

It can't hurt, right? Anyone else wanna try? I dare you.

Pixie Dust. I spread it.

(Sounds like a bumper sticker)

Thursday, September 29, 2005

Cheddar IS Better...

Kids crack me up. If they want something, they are most likely going to figure out a way to get it.

Today in the grocery store I witnessed a 5 year old boy steal cold cuts from unsuspecting shoppers.

His mom was shopping for veggies and left her cart unattended (and her son). While she shopped for potatoes, her son managed to steal packs of cold cuts from the carts of several deli customers-without them knowing. He then proceeded to pile them into the seat portion of the cart-about 5 or 6 of them!

When the mother finally came back to the cart, she was visibly confused. She looked around to see if anyone was paying attention, or perhaps someone had mistook her carriage for theirs. Finally she looked over to the deli and saw her son.

He had somehow finagled the deli lady to cut him one pound of turkey and was asking her to cut him one pound of cheddar when his mom ran over and told the lady they didn't need it. (How did he do that w/o a number?)

I'm laughing hysterically as I type this because I have the benefit of hearing him say in his little voice, "I'd like one pound of turkey please ma'am."

When his mom yelled at him and told him to give the meat back to everyone, he screamed at the top of his lungs,

"I want the cheddar!"

Kids crack me up.

Under Rated

Have you ever noticed that people who no longer live at your address get better mail than you? I haven't gotten fun "just cause" mail in ages, and really, it's been too long. There's something special about coming home after a long day at work and finding a funny card in the box. And truly, it doesn't matter who it's from. It really doesn't even matter what's in it-as long as it's not a bill. "Just cause" mail is very under rated.

Peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Why do we stop eating these on a regular basis once we hit 7th grade? Seriously. Kids should be educated on how good these things really are. I myself am a grape jelly gal, but sometimes I like a little strawberry to mix it up. Not a fan of the raspberry jelly on PBJ's though-I think it's those pesky seeds. Now as for Fluffer Nutter Luvvers (see what I did there?) you're ok, but it's not the same. Course, I didn't actually even HAVE my first FN until I was a freshman at WSC and my friends basically beat me up trying to stuff it in my face while breaking my FN hymen. Really. No joke, I have pictures. What I do like every now and then is a peanut butter and banana sandwich-I like it with a little honey. Sandwiches from your childhood: under rated.

How about taking baths before "your show" is on? I think girls can appreciate this one more than boys, because I had long hair and my mom used to comb it out while I was sitting on the floor watching said show. There's nothing like being clean, wrapped up in your most comfy pj's having someone play with your hair while watching Webster...ahem...I mean, your favorite show. (How'd that get past the editors?)

Grape bubble gum. I don't think I even need to elaborate. Ok?

The first time you sleep in a bed with sheets that were just cleaned. And if they are still warm-fuhgettaboutit!

A new razor. Holy slick legs! (Or face guys) How great a feeling is that to have your legs entwined with someone else's when you've just shaved and your legs are silky smooth? OMG what a feeling!!! New razors are also, under rated.

Products like Bandaid, Xerox and Kleenex. Anything that's so good that people now refer to any bandage, photocopy or tissue as their brand name has to be good. And though this means that people like their products, (and technically NOT over rated) most don't realize they do this...and so, these things are under rated.

What are some things you love but are under rated?

Wednesday, September 28, 2005

Starting Lineup

Git Er Dunn:

It is not OK to try to date someone when you don't know their first name. Especially if you can recall the eye color of another girl you like and you know her first name. Your best bet is to go with her, even though her last name is Phromelicker. (Or something like that) Noname Bowrider apparently does not make enough of an impression on you. And also, she may deck you when she realizes that you do not know her name, and you do NOT need to be beat up by a girl.

That would suck.

Regarding this green-eyed Phromelicker chick:

1. When asked what her best quality was, you replied, "She's receptive." That's not a quality, really. Find one. If you can't, move on-but I suggest you skip over Noname Bowrider-if you question why that is, re-read the first paragraph. Perhaps you can start by complimenting Phromelicker's eyes. You seem to like them. Girls love it when boys say they are pretty. (But please don't say, "Wow, yur pritty, can I show you my truck?" because then I would advise her to beat you up too.
2. Even though fathers are usually a good source of advice, I would refrain from the now famous line, "I have 2 Willies" Though she is also from Hicksville USA, I'm sure she does not know that the first one is a classic truck. And also, hearing you talk about the 2nd one may skeeve her out.
3. Though I realize that last weeks locked door debacle happened with our 3rd base girl and not Phlemlicker (or whatever!), if something you plan doesn't work out-DON'T RUN AWAY you wacko!! "Um, the door's locked, guess I'll go sit in the boys bathroom and play with my Willie..." WHAT!?!? NO! How about, "Darn, the door's locked, wanna sit outside instead?" there a concept. ;-)
4. If you do indeed ask her out on a date and she accepts (she is receptive, I should remind you) please don't take her to your company picnic. That would just be silly. First of all, the girl who touched your inseam yesterday may be there, and well, we know you are in love with her. 2 girls you like in 1 place would be hard for you to handle at this point. Take it slow. Becoming Rico Suave may be in your future, but for now, let's stick with una chica por favor. (She's not Spanish, so I don't know why I said that. Did it drive my point home anymore than it would have in English??)
5. If she says no: Don't run. I do give you permission to put a dead frog in her locker from Bio, or perhaps maybe to laugh obnoxiously in the middle of the hall saying, "NO, I WON'T GO OUT WITH YOU-I TOLD YOU TO LEAVE ME ALONE PHLEMFLICKER" (Not really, that would be bad, very, very bad.) Really though, don't run, just smile and say "OK" and keep being her friend. Your paths crossed for a reason, and just because it's not to share a twisty cone on Friday's doesn't mean you can't be friends.

And by the way-I love the sideburns. Wicked cool and you smelled F-A-N-T-A-S-T-I-C!!!!

Be prepared to round the bases slugger...

Tuesday, September 27, 2005

Good Day For The Race

Apparently, I am a great distraction to people in seems that one of my readers can't quite concentrate these days, and has decided to rope everyone else he knows into slacking off. I think they work with computers of some sort, and I fear that they control the tubes and now all of London is gridlocked because they aren't working. ;) Conceited, I think yes, but you haven't seen how much he's posted!!! Thanks for sharing my site. I love it when that happens!

He's also incidentally, posted lots of comments in my archives, which delights me to no end. Thanks OWL. You made my day!

This one cracks me up (and also makes me angry you have to hear it everyday!)

"Someone I know says "Good day for the race" every morning, and when people ask what race, he says "the human race." Funny once, not every morning.

(This is what made me laugh)
I know this has nothing to do with your post, but I'm determined to write more than you on your blog. :p "

Silly OWL. Don't you see that I'm addicted to blogging and that I usually post at least 2 a day?? You can not defeat me!! AAAAHHHHAAAAAHHHHHHAAAAA.

Just kidding. I love you. Keep reading and posting. 8-)

We've Got A Pooper Over Here!

Ladies and gents, we have a pooper.

Yes, a pooper.

He comes in early, flies under the radar and drops his bombs like clockwork....

8am, Mags and The Pooper, alone in the office....but wait? Where'd The Pooper go?

Ah...yes, of course, he's in the bathroom. For what seems like hours....(but really only like, 15 minutes)

And then he emerges, looking flushed and possibly a little sweaty-though he tries to be Metro and so it may just be body gleam or something like that.

And then he leaves.

He's a drive by pooper, that's what he is.

Oh Mr. Pooper, will you not please poop prior to walking into my office? It IS first thing in the morning...

But the thing about the pooper is that not only does he poop in the morning-he also poops when he gets back into the office...and that's a lot of pooping on a daily basis, if you ask me.

Aaahhh...the beauty of working in a small office.

(And incidentally, I do thoroughly acknowledge that I seem to be obsessed with bathroom rituals, morning routines and boys...though I can tell you I love boys, I usually do not care to even think about them pooping-I'm just here for the observations, and that is all.)

Cracker Jack Prize

Hope is a funny thing. It makes you see things that don't exist. Sometimes when they appear, you are happily ambling through life enjoying what you were given.

And then something hopeful happens and you see those invisible things.

There's a glorious moment in time in which you are suspended-almost numb-heart pulsing, feeling the very spark of life coursing through your veins. And you are trying to decipher what you are supposed to do.

This is the most blissful time-when your life has possibilities and everything you prayed for has been handed to you. There are no more worries, there is no more doubt, and there are no more anxious feelings.

And then it happens.

The invisible cord cradling you in your enraptured delight snaps, and you realize that you saw something that indeed wasn't there-that you only saw it because you wanted to, and not because it was true.

And then it happens.

The state of O.K.ness you previously owned is now shattered like a broken mirror, leaving behind splinters and bad luck.

And then it happens.

You start to question the hope that you nurture in the deepest, most sacred recesses of your heart.

When do you decide whether keeping that hope locked up is worth more than letting it free and allowing it to keep searching for your biggest dreams? When do you roll your hope into a ball and kick it under the bed and when do you stop looking for the invisible signs...the "go ahead" nods from destiny?

I suppose the answer is never, and those who answer differently are the sad, tormented souls who never feel the joy of realizing that not all signs are invisible-that we are each given a special decoder ring to read the messages that are truly meant for us to see.

And then it happens...

*For the 5 of you who know what this is in regard to, please refrain from posting specific comments about the catalyst. For those of you wondering what it was that sparked this, I will tell you if you guess. Cryptic, I know, but it's sort of embarrassing..but I live by my "I don't have secrets, just unasked questions" rule. So feel free to guess away!

Monday, September 26, 2005

Kissing Behind Bars

Oooo La La! Today's Monday....and you know what that means, don't ya? My boyfriend is on TV tonight...I've been dreaming of kissing nice lips lately. What kind of kisser am I?

***I'm a Romantic Kisser***

For you, kissing is all about feeling the romance. You love to kiss under the stars or by the sea. The perfect kiss involves the perfect mood. It's pretty common for kisses to sweep you off your feet.
I don't know if it's common to be swept off of my feet by a kiss, but I do know it has happened before. ;-o
Click Link To Find Out!
(and as always, please share!)

Question Time

Hopefully these questions won't confuse anyone. 8-) Please dole out some answers this time my peeps!

1. If you could make 1 thing absolutely free to everyone in the world, what would it be and why?
I think I would choose health care. Having healthy people in society is very important and giving everyone access to it is essential. I can't count the number of times I've heard someone say, "The medicine I need is $40 a pill and I can't afford it." I think that this is one thing that everyone deserves, not matter their lot in life or their work ethic. It was hard for me to pick between this and education, however, I just learned that my insurance only paid $18 on a $2000 bill from a biopsy I had done in January. Nice.

2. What is the most mischievous thing you remember doing as a child?
I was a pretty good kid and am learning that based on how bad my sisters were, I could have really had some fun. So, mine isn't really that bad. I remember once my aunt and I found a ton of money (probably like $50) in a bank bag at our pool club. I was in kindergarten and my aunt was in middle school. That $50 seemed like a billion dollars. So instead of reporting it, we wrapped it up in a beach towel and put it in our cabana until we went home. Later that night we hid the money bag under my Nana & Papa's bed. It must have been lumpy because as soon as they got into bed, they found the money, and we got in trouble. Why we didn't hide it under HER bed, I'll never know.
3. What is a word your family uses that would not be considered common?
"Goopy" noun: An elastic band commonly used for ponytails. Re-named "goopy" by my 2 aunts when they were little because they misread "Goody", the brand name of the elastics they were using to braid their hair. I often forget that "goopy" is not the real name of what binds my ponytail and am now used to the funny looks I get when I say, "Do you have a goopy I can borrow?"

Sunday, September 25, 2005

The Non-Nese

Yup, it's official, I have the WORST luck with boys EVER!

Today I worked the booth at a local trade show with my employee, Gadget. She's wicked cool and we often tease each other. I was psyched that she was there with me today to pass the time.

Almost immediately after I got settled in the booth, I surveyed the surrounding exhibitors...blow up boat guy on the left, kinda cute but short, weird Chinese massage people in front of us, a teak table guy who resembled Vince Vaughn diagonal and a really freaking hot guy from Boston with the BEST accent to our right.

Freaking hot Boston guy was in love with Gadget, who, incidentally, doesn't even like men. (Though she did say she was in love with this guy-that's how hot he was). I did find out he smokes though, and so that immediately made him not hot AT ALL. Stupid freaking hot Boston Guy.

So, are you curious who did like me?? Remember the weird Chinese massage people? Well, they had a non-nese with them: a tall, lanky balding man with the biggest Adams Apple I've ever seen. He wore glasses, which is usually a turn on for me, but not these glasses. They were too big and somehow accentuated his big, long nose.

He sauntered over to our booth and stood right in front of me. "So, are you going to come over and get a massage?"

Me: "No. Sorry, I've got to work."
Non-Nese: "You can take a break."
Me: "No I can't actually. I've gotta work here all day. No breaks..."
NN: "Have you ever gotten a massage before?"
Me: "Yes, lots of times actually. They are great. But not today."
NN: "What kind?"
Me: (laughing ) "Um, I'm not really sure what kind...the kind you lay on the table."
NN: "Oh, with oils and such? Deep?"
At this point, I can barely keep in my giggles. I am very aware of Gadget staring at me grinning in her little cute Oklahoma grin...
Me: "Um...yeah."
NN: "I've been massaging for 23 years now. I do something a little different-I have you lay on the ground on a futon. You'd wear really loose clothing and it would be wonderful."
(In my head:) "Get the fuck away from here now. Run, before I hit you."
Me: (Out loud) "Oh, really? That's nice."
What I needed was a way out of this, because NN was not leaving....luckily Gadget yelled to someone passing by and it gave me a reason to giggle. I was holding it in so long that it hurt.

Finally NN left and went over to his booth, but all day he kept looking over at me, trying to get me to look at him. Gadget teased me saying that she was going to give him my direct line at work and my email address. Gross.

The day wasn't all that bad though. I did manage to get one handsome man to dance for me right in front of our booth which was cool, and handed out lots of computer shaped stress relievers-mainly because I called them "squishy computers". Most of the men I handed them to took them after they repeated, "squishy computers, huh?" or something like that. The ones that said they didn't want them ended up taking them when I said, "Aw, c'mon...if you take one we'll get a bonus" or "You know you want it..." which was funny. I found that adding a little flirt to your eyes always gives unwanted things away.

Fun. I like it when people play along with my craziness.


Yesterday was my 5 year anniversary of living back in New England! Hip hip!

I remembered when I walked out of the store last night and felt the cool breeze on my face while I looked up at the clear, turquoise sky to make a wish on the first star I saw...

This is home. And there really was no better time to move back to CT than in September.

There are so many wonderful things about New England in the fall...the crisp mornings where your breath dances in front of you and dew drops sit prettily dancing in the sun, the smell of fallen leaves, apple picking and apple pie baking, hot apple cider and fresh, hot apple cider donuts...picking the bestest pumpkin in the patch and making him the scariest pumpkin on the block...sweaters and jackets and rubbing cold noses to keep warm, hayrides and state fairs...

...Driving through the valley with your windows down witnessing the explosion of color painted on mother nature's canvas-a brilliant blue sky the background...

The first whiff of a fireplace, homecoming games and bon fires, pep rallies and promise. There really isn't a better time to be alive than autumn in New England.

And I am glad I am home.