Wednesday, November 30, 2005

Yiddish word of the week

Schlofen: to sleep. Commonly used in the phrase: Gey schlofen (go to sleep). Not to be confused with Shluff. Shluff is the sound/action of trying to breathe through a stuffed up nose, when all you're really doing is sucking all that shit back into your brain so you can get a sinus infection. Common usage: Stop shluffing! You'll make it worse! (said often by Mom).

All representatives are busy...

please hold for the next available representative.
And hold.
And hold.
And hold.
I think I may have held for about 10 minutes. I'm patient though, don't ya know? See it all started when I tried to order NYC's b'day gift online. I'm doing good. Her birthday isn't for a few more days, so the fact that I'm evening ordering it before said happy day is a good sign. That I'm going to have it mailed directly to her is just plain smart.
So I go online to the website where I saw the BEST present for her. I add it to my cart. I proceed to check out. I enter my address...her address...my credit card. You know, all the pertinent information. Then I hit submit and a lovely screen pops up informing me they are processing my order and a confirmation should appear shortly.
10 minutes later I'm still staring at the same screen with fascinating information about Earl Grey and how he's not just a kind of tea.
So I hit resent.
Wait.
Reset again.
Wait.
By now I've either ordered darn thing 5 times or not at all. Either way, I really should call them. So I do, and I'm put on hold. But I'm patient (see: beginning), and so I don't mind. Plus, I can read science while I wait. And wait. And wait.
Finally Mark answers my call. Have I told you about Mark? Very nice guy, this Mark. Was happy to help me figure out what happened. He punches in some codes, searches for my name...finds the beginning of my order but no proof that it actually went through. So he'll kindly try from his end. While he's punching in codes and keys we chat. Now, unlike Ms. K, I rarely chat up random people over the telephone. I try to be polite, but I rarely extend myself to say anything overly exciting. However it was 9pm, and I was feeling chatty. (hey, let's face it, I had no desire to do actual homework). So while Mark helped me order my present, I discovered that he had to be there until 3 a.m., recently moved and no one would help him, and that he too has stories that he could share with a total stranger, but won't because we were being polite.
*snort*
I think I've been spending too much time with Ms. K. She's starting to rub off on me and I'm starting to chat up random men over the telephone. Too bad said guy is in New York. But hey, at least I know who to call when I'm bored :D

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

Because I can...

***It's about time someone wrote this...and I'm sorry to all you Star War Fans out there. I too love the movies, but I know the truth, Luke was a weenie...and this proves it.

The TRUE ending to "the Empire Strikes Back":------------------------------------------------------A furious lightsaber duel is underway. DARTH VADER is backing LUKE SKYWALKER towards the end of the gantry. A quick move by Vader, chops off Luke's hand! It goes spinning off into the ventilation shaft. Luke backs away. He looks around, but realizes there's nowhere to go but straight down.
Darth Vader: Obi Wan never told you what happened to your father.
Luke: He told me enough! He told me you killed him!
Darth Vader: No... I am your father!
Luke: No, it's not true! It's impossible.
Darth Vader: Search your feelings... you know it to be true...
Luke: NO!
Darth Vader: Yes, it is true.. and you know what else? You know that brass droid of yours?
Luke: Threepio?
Darth Vader: Yes... Threepio... I built him... when Iwas 7 years old...
Luke: No...
Darth Vader: Seven years old? And what have you done?Look at yourself, no hand, no job, and couldn't even levitate your own ship out of the swamp...
Luke: I destroyed your precious Death Star!
Darth Vader: When you were 20! When I was 10, I single-handedly destroyed a Trade Federation Droid Control ship!
Luke: Well, it's not my fault...
Darth Vader: Oh, here we go... "Poor me... my father never gave me what I wanted for my birthday... boohoo, my daddy's the Dark Lord of the Sith... waahhhwahhh!"
Luke: Shut up...
Darth Vader: You're a slacker! By the time I was you're age, I had exterminated the Jedi knights!
Luke: I used to race my T-16 through Beggar's Canyon!
Darth Vader: Oh, for the love of the Emperor... 10years old, winner of the Boonta Eve Open... Only human to ever fly a Pod Racer... right here baby!
Luke looks down the shaft. Takes a step towards it.
Darth Vader: I was wrong... You're not my kid... Idon't know whose you are, but you sure ain't mine...
Luke takes a step off the platform, hesitates, then plunges down the shaft. Darth Vader looks after him.
Darth Vader: Get a haircut you F$#king hippy!

www.chainletters.net

Bad Juju...

My table has bad juju. Yes, you read that correctly. During a discussion last night about how I have to replace my current table and chairs with my dad's table and chairs soon, Christina pointed out that because of its history, my table has bad juju (karma, energy...whatever you want to call it). I've cleansed the apartment (spending significant time over the table area), I've cleaned it, I've treated it nicely, but regardless, the bad juju sticks around.
"Why?" you ask.
Simple, really. You see, the table originally belonged to my ex. (Actually, it belonged to someone before him, but I think he bought it at Value Village, so I can't say for certain what traumas it may have witnessed in the past.) He gave it to me to use when one of my roommates moved out and took her table with her. When the ex and I broke up, I got to keep the table. Now since then, my dating life has been pretty dismal. According to Christina, this is directly related to the table. Now, logic says that if I get rid of the table, the bad juju associated with it goes away too.
So, any takers?

Sunday, November 27, 2005

The countdown is on...

Just 2 weeks left of classes for the quarter. That's 8 days left of sitting through class, trying desperately to pay attention while my mind wanders to the remaining papers I have to write. My major paper is due tomorrow. After 4 pm tomorrow I'll be in the home stretch. I'll also likely be freaking out. But that's just normal for me. Case in point: I thought I had a whole other week to finish my science paper. Nope, sorry...apparently that's the wrong answer. I have 5 days. 5 DAYS! to finish it. Infinitely doable, yes. But it's safe to say that by the end, my brain may be mush. Mush is not good when you still have between 60 and 70 pages to write of your book. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I'm in the home stretch there, too. Time to start pulling together all the twisted plotlines that I've created. Time to find Mom (not my mom, my character's mom) who flew off to Florida without a word. Time to get through her Best Friend's wedding (and no, I'll share no more secrets about that). Time to bring my Hero back into the picture with his not-so-grand gesture. Well, you can see where I'm going with this. My plan is to still finish this book before I start my student teaching. That leaves me with less than a month (and at least a few parties and papers in between), to get down to business.
Hmmmm...no pressure there!

Thursday, November 24, 2005

Something to be thankful for...

I am thankful for a lot of things in my life. My friends, my family...cheesecake. You know, the usual. Not so long ago I blogged about how Mom and H were on their way to Mexico for Thanksgiving, leaving Lil Sis and I to fend for ourselves. And we shall do so admirably. No, really!
Lil Sis just called to tell me she's on her way down, and she's bringing the feast with her. Turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing...pumpkin cheesecake. Of course, I kind of wish she'd told me yesterday, before I went out to buy chicken and such to make for dinner. *sigh* Yes, I love my family, and I'm thankful for the abundance of food that will now be in my refridgerator.

So for all you out there, Happy Thanksgiving. We are all blessed.

Tuesday, November 22, 2005

Yiddish Word of the Week

I've decided to start sharing with you all the wealth of knowledge received in my Yiddish Word for the Day calendar (courtesty of Lil' Sis).
This week's word is Toches (n.): bum, butt, rear, rump, derriere, tush...take your pick, they are all accurate. Pronounced Tuh-ches (with the gutteral /ch/ sound only pronouncable by Jews and those who speak Germanic languages). Apparently I've been spelling it wrong all my life.

Enjoy

Saturday, November 19, 2005

Admitting temporary defeat...

I think I have to admit that my writing is just not gonna happen this week. Which of course just ticks me off. Sadly, my current reality has me writing 6 papers over the next two weeks, while still continuing to do various amounts of unrelated homework for my classes. One professor has recently decided that we all didn't have enough to do. So on top of the major paper we have due, plus the readings, we have to watch an hour long video for class. Now, if this was a video I could check out, I'd likely not be as annoyed. But no. No this video is online, and can only be viewed over a cable/DSL line. Which of course I don't have. On top of which, there are a total of 4 of the buggers we have to watch. Where is the fairness here? So tomorrow I'm trooping off to Mom's in an attempt to watch video #2 on her computer. Video #1 didn't go so well, since I couldn't get any actual visual, only audio.
Ah well, just 3 more weeks of class (+1 week in the field) and then I'm on break. And next week is short, cuz I think I'm going to skip science on Wednesday. It's an optional class, so what's the point? I'll just get annoyed. I can find so many better things to do anyway.
So wish me luck!! I have way too much to do right now.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

It's that time of year again...

Which time, you ask? Yes, I do realize this could apply to a whole lot of things. Colds (yup, I have one), holiday decorations (up as of last Wednesday at Starbucks), gift buying (I don't even want to hear about any of you who are done shopping), and the ever fun gift exchange. Now, I know I've mentioned my wonderful writer friends. These ladies help to keep me (mostly) sane, and take my neuroses in stride (for the most part). For example, they put up with my cries of "Hell, no!!" at inappropriate times during songs that question my religion. They pat me gently on the shoulder when I hate to break the news that there IS NO Santa Clause. And they forgive me for not ever having seen It's A Wonderful Life.
But the best part was our recent discussion about our annual gift exchange. Okay, annual in that we did it last year and will do it again this year. Traditionally such acts are called Secret Santa. However in deference to me, one friend suggested that we call it Secret Angels. Which I gotta admit makes the whole thing more palatable. Not that I'm against Secret Santa. But it's hard to give the big guy any kind of credit when you're busy avoiding giant trees overladen with shine globes and dancing around tinsel while trying to light your eight tiny candles in hopes that you'll be home long enough to let them burn down.
So yes, it's that time of year again. Time to for me to complain about the inordinate amounts of green tinsel flying everywhere. Time for me to stop listening to certain radio stations who will soon switch to all Christmas music. And time for me to start digging around to figure out who I'm getting gifts for, who I've agreed we'll only do cards, and where I actually have to go for such things.

Friday, November 11, 2005

I blame Winking Out Loud...

for my new obsession.

Overheard in the Office:
Boss: Those cupcakes are delicious. What a sugar rush!
Intern: I broke out in hives.
Boss: In hives?
Intern: A rash. My skin is very sensitive.
Boss: To sugar?
Intern: Yup.
Boss: That's amazing.
Intern: When I was a kid I got sick and I had to have, like, ten X-rays a day. Literally, five X-rays a day. And I think that messed up my photons.
Boss: Your photons?
Intern: Yeah, that's how X-rays work, you know? They reverse your photons. That's how they get the image.
Boss: Oh.
Intern: That's why my skin is so sensitive, because they messed up the photons. They won't admit it, because they don't want me to sue them. But I know what's up.


And yes, someone really said this...

Thursday, November 10, 2005

And because it made me laugh...

I just read a post on another blog from a gal who recently went back home to visit in Michigan. Apparently when she told friends she was going back, they all became very curious as to why. As in, why would you go there? It's a good question, and one I have fielded myself. What really cracked me up about the post, though, was that she did the Michigan Mitten, when explaining where she was going.
Now, for those of you unfamiliar with it, the Michigan Mitten (don't know if this is the actual name for it, but it works) is when you take your left hand with the palm down to show it to another person. You then proceed to point out where in Michigan you lived. And yes, I will admit I have done this a time or two myself. All of us have. The funniest part of this, of course, is that unless you've actually lived in Michigan, the Mitten means nothing. I could be telling you I lived in the middle of Egypt with the Mitten and you wouldn't know the difference.
*grin*
So to all those out there in Michigan, know that we may have left, but we still know where we came from.
And to those of you who haven't experience the Mitten yet? Well, just ask. I'm sure whoever you ask will be more than happy to demonstrate.

To the teenage kid working in the pharmacy...

I'm really sorry I got so upset. I do know it's not your fault there are schmucks out there with too much time on their hands that they need to practice blowing up their houses on a regular basis. And that because of them, you can't sell me my allergy medication. I know it's not your fault that the company pulled the drug because of the ingredients being so handy, as much as it is not your fault it's really the only one that works. So I'm sorry I got angry. Really. Will you forgive me?

And in the meantime? Maybe you should consider removing the giant popsicle stick holding you upright. You looked mighty uncomfortable standing there telling me that you couldn't help me at all.

AAAAHHHH!!!

I lost a post. i lost a post!

Big Bad Voodoo Magic!

The other night I went with Ms. K, Ms. N, Mom and Aunt to see Big Bad Voodoo Daddy.
If you haven't heard their music, you have to go check 'em out. They are awesome! Their sound is a little bit Big Band, a little bit Swing, a little bit Jazz and a whole lot of fun. I mean really, who doesn't enjoy a band that comes out in suits with shiny loafers on their feet? They looked yummy.
Of course, the funniest part was standing up in our box seats, looking down on all the people on the ground, watching them weave their heads like snakes, while not moving the rest of their bodies. What is up with Seattle audiences? It's like they are afraid they might offend someone by actually moving to the music. *sigh* Which is why Ms. K., Ms. N. and myself were 3 or 6 people (all in the boxes) who actually got up and danced to the music.
Afterward, a couple on their way out stopped to compliment us on our dancing and enthusiasm. See, we do attract attention! Ah, the life of the party. That's us :D

Girls' just wanna have fun!


Christina A. and I with our Foxy Ladies
Okay, so better late than never. I've been meaning to post this pic, but I'm a lazy blogger.
So Christina and I went on a girls' night out to see Greg Behrendt and His wife (whose name escapes me at the moment) talk about their new book. We were two of about 200 women in a room, listening while about 5 of the other women talked about their breakups, or current relationships, hoping to get answers from the gurus of dating. *snort* It's really sad when 200 women can tell as soon as you open your mouth that your relationship ended a while ago and you are just clinging to the remnants of it with your fingernails. What's more sad is when they tell you. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Monday, November 07, 2005

Are you a good girl? or a bad girl?

Uh-oh...they found me out.

You Are a Good Girl

You are 80% Good and 20% Bad
Generally speaking, you're a very good girl.
(But you don't have us totally fooled!)

What Kind of Candy Are You?

Gummy Bears

You may be smooshie and taste unnatural, but you're so darn cute.



so, what do you think? appropriate?

What's Your Monster Name?

Cuz I don't have enough to do...

Your Monster Profile

Demon Gargoyle

You Feast On: Pie

You Lurk Around In: The Ocean

You Especially Like to Torment: Pop Stars

Mesugarnuts, and stuff like that...

Thursday, November 03, 2005

and yet another...

had this to say about me:
Any special talents?: The ability to trip on nothing
If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be?: A Verbal Tasmanian Devil
Do you remember one of the first things I said to you?: No, it came out WAAAAYYY too fast ;-)

These ladies have me pegged!

Wednesday, November 02, 2005

What some of my friends have to say about me...

I had to share this, because it made me laugh so hard. In response to a time wasting questionnaire, one friend had this to say about me:

Any special talents?: aside from being a future best-selling author? she can drive and drink and talk with her hands at the same time. Scares the hell out of me.

So there you have it folks, the truth...stay tuned for more insights :D

Stupid internet...

Sometimes I think the internet is the worst invention ever. Before it came along, people actually had to call one another. You tied up the phone lines for hours with those "quick" calls to a friend. Letters (handwritten, that is) were the long distance way to communicate. Especially if you were at summer camp. Then it was letters home to mom asking if she'd send more clean underwear, or a few more books, or simply come and take you home. Oh, wait, that was just me.

The internet, on the other hand, is evil. It sucks you in and never releases you from its demonic grasp. Take email, for instance. I can literally spend hours online, waiting for an email. Not that I'm just sitting there waiting. No, in the meantime, I'll go read blogs, or check out new books on Amazon.com, or I'll look for strange and interesting news on the Yahoo front. Either way, I'll waste all sorts of time rather than doing the work I'm supposed to be doing. And let's be honest. If I have hours to waste waiting for an email to come that never does, don't I have hours in which I can be writing?

So the internet is evil...or maybe it's just email that is evil. I'd hate to over use the word you know. Don't want to set up those expectations, only to be proven wrong later down the road.