Thursday, June 26, 2008

Just Make a Right at the Ugly Baby...

My mom held a little dinner party at her house last night for the upper echelons of WOG. She forgot to include an address in her original email though, so people kept asking me if it was at the Big House… so, to avoid Dad having to feed unexpected guests cereal for dinner, I sent out the following email to all of the invitees:

Hello all,
So, it has come to my attention that my beautiful, wonderful, crazy mother forgot a key piece of information in the below invitation. If you were planning on attending this exciting event, it might be helpful to know where it is being held. Although my mother obviously thinks that everyone should just magically know where her home is (she is the center of her own universe, and expects nothing less from the rest of us), I think it might be helpful to send out some directions.

Her place is the last house on the right before the round-about. It should come as no surprise that her house is the prettiest on the block.

Although I will try to convince her to put a large cardboard cutout of herself in the front yard, with a sign that says “Cindy C., Queen of Entertaining”, I make no guarantees. Therefore, you’ll just have to rely on the address.

If you have any other questions, please contact her… and tell her I sent you.

Thanks,

The one, the only, Alexandra B


I included her address and a Google Map, but I won’t on here, in case Crazy Stalker Clown is reading… bad Crazy Stalker Clown.

It was nice to sit outside with my coworkers, chilling out, eating food, and listening to Mike discuss the different properties of heat…


I guess you just had to be there.

There was also a woman there who is 8 months pregnant. Her kid was moving around like crazy in her tummy, and freaking us all out.

It was some serious Alien shit.

It was NOT natural.

She would be talking, and her stomach would just move because his little knee was poking out or he was trying to elbow her in the ribs. I think that he knew we were watching him, because he was tap dancing like… a tap dancer on crack(?).


We then talked about how having a nice looking baby is really hit or miss. Although lots of babies are cute, a whole lot more are just plain scary looking. They sort of turn out looking like a wet rat… or like this.

It really has nothing to do with how attractive the parents are. Some beautiful people create some really cursed looking children. And some really sad looking people can make a lovely child. Plus, some ugly babies turn into gorgeous specimens of adults.


So the father-to-be last night was really funny. He was the one who said that it’s a real crap shoot how your kid looks. He also thought that my Alien reference was fitting, because he thinks it’s really creepy when his wife’s stomach moves as if independent from the rest of her body.


He had a great idea if he gets an ugly kid (I guess him and his wife were not the most darling looking babies… but they’re really hot now… so that’s good).

He wants to walk up to people and go goo-goo-gah-gah over his ugly mutant of a child, saying Isn’t he just the cutest thing ever? Then, when people say, through awkward smiles and gritted teeth that, yes, he is just adorable, he can yell at them for being dirty liars…

Although I think that he was just going to think the last part, not actually yell at them, like I would. But that’s why it will be years (hear that all: YEARS) before I’m allowed to procreate… it would increase my sarcastic ammunition ten-fold.

Though my kid is going to look more like this.

Still hairy… but beautiful.



AFTERTHOUGT: I forgot that the woman whose eggo is preggo also told us about her birthing class, where they referred to the moment when the head crowns as The Burning Ring of Fire...

Um... adoption is looking better and better. Pregers said that if she had any doubt before about using drugs, that threw her over the edge. I want an epidural now just thinking about that ring of fire.

The daddy to be said that he's going to bring his Johnny Cash CD into the delivery... and she said she'd kick him in the jaw if he did. Those are my kind of parents.

Friday, June 20, 2008

Is that Fried Tofu in your Lap, or are you Just Happy to See Me?

Today was a crappy day. One of those days where I wish I could just go back to sleep for a few hours and then start the day over again.

I was just depressed all day. Everything was making me sad and I wanted to go home.

Plus it was Friday... and it went so slow...

But that all changed when I met my family for dinner.

I must admit that I was not exactly looking forward to this, because I was in such a shitty mood... but my family rarely, if ever, lets me down.

It was AJ's last day as an official Sushi Tora employee, so we took full advantage of his sushi knowledge and employee discount.

It was Tora-rific. We had some awesome food and an awesome time.

We talked about important things, like how to be a successful business woman (it's all about the cleavage), and what sound tuna sushi makes when it's about to be eaten (much like a horse).

I also almost burned a hole in my mouth. AJ ordered me some deep fried tofu (which immediately negates any and all healthiness about said tofu), and I took a huge bite of it. My eyes started to tear and I was afraid that I was going to choke.

I conspicuously spit it into my napkin and held it in my lap. It was so hot that it created a steam pocket on my jeans. It was sad.

I then told them about it about 20 minutes later...

AJ got me a new napkin. Good guy.

So the night was great!

Especially dessert.

Yeah, whoever decided to fry bananas is a saint. Again... all healthiness was negated in the banana.

God bless the deep fryer.

Other little tidbits from the night:

- My dad got some convertible pants (the ones that zip off on the bottom to create shorts). We decided that these are the mullet of the fashion world. Party on the top, business on the bottom.

- When we got the bill, it became clear that the restaurant had comp'd a whole lot of our meal. While my family was oohing and ahhing about how sweet that was, I asked what else we could get for free (they were all thinking it). So I looked at the sushi bar, and saw a whole octopus tentacle. So I said, "Maybe we could get a tentacle..." And then the next part came out without me even thinking about it: "...so we could slap homeless people with it." I was laughing so hard as it was coming out that AJ thought that I was going crazy. My silly mind works in very mysterious ways.

- I convinced my brother to go to my cousin's baptism with us on Sunday. Mom said that he should go so that he could see the family before he leaves for NZ, but I told him that he should go to see if the holy water burns a whole in Dad's skin.

I am now going to read. I finished all of The Twilight Saga already, so my will to read is temporarily shot. I must go on, though.

I read something on Jennifer Weiner's website. She has a whole section for people who want to be writers, and this is something that I have taken to heart (although I've always believed this... but she words it well):

Read everything. Read fiction and non-fiction, read hot best sellers and the classics you never got around to in college. Read men, read women, read travel guides and Harlequins and epic poetry and cookbooks and cereal boxes, if you're desperate. Get the rhythm of good writing in your ears. Cram your head with characters and stories. Abuse your library privileges. Never stop looking at the world, and never stop reading to find out what sense other people have made of it. If people give you a hard time and tell you to get your nose out of a book, tell them you're working. Tell them it's research. Tell them to pipe down and leave you alone.

Granted, this is the piece of advice that requires the least amount of actual hard work... but you gotta start somewhere.


Wednesday, June 18, 2008

If Only you Could Buy Puppies in Bulk...

I've been sick since Saturday.

It blows.

Like, seriously.

I went to work for a couple of hours today, leaving just before I passed out from exhaustion.

I then stopped at Sam's Club because we're out of a few essentials that can't really wait much longer.

You know... like soap.

Sam's Club is an interesting place. Sort of like an alternate universe, full of bulk goods and free samples.

Although I can understand buying certain things there, like shampoo and paper towels, other things are just not meant to be bought in bulk.

Like, do I really need sixteen pounds of tomatoes? Really? Not unless I'm planning on attending some kind of tomato convention, or making a dozen gallons of salsa fresca for my restaurant.

Do I need a bag of lettuce that Bonnie could then use as a sleeping bag? Not unless I plan on eating lettuce with every meal for the next month and a half, and then selling the rest to starving college students at the dorms this fall...

Plus, that stuff goes bad... fast.

Even the non-perishable items pose some problems for the bargain shopper.

Take toilet paper. Do I buy the box of 1,000 rolls for $13.49, or the box of 2,000 rolls for $11.87? It seems like an easy answer, right?

Only to the untrained Clubber.

See, you may get twice as much for a fraction less... but then you realize that those 2,000 rolls are all 1/2-ply. Not even a full ply of paper.

To get the 3, or even 2-ply, you have to shell out a good $18.65.

And for only 500 rolls...

It's quite the dilemma.

Then there's the whole ordeal of finding things that you never, ever needed.

I don't need dehydrated papaya... but it was six pounds for $11.39. And I don't need two dozen bottles of Vitamin Water in a flavor that resembles Tylenol Cool Burst Nightime cold medicine (something I've had to enjoy for a few days), but it was such a steal!

Then you pay... and the bill is...

really

really

big. Like, amazingly big. Like a hefty portion of next month's rent big.

Because even though the shampoo was only so much, and the toilet paper was only so much... it adds up.

Sure, you don't have to buy that stuff again for a while, but you know that the call of bulk buying will sound again.

You'll suddenly realize that your toothbrush needs to be replaced, but wouldn't it be more economical to by a dozen and just have them on hand?

And I really want some cheese... why not stop in and get an industrial sized brick of cheddar? I can find a few recipes online for cheddar soup... or something.

I have to go eat some Top Ramen now. I don't eat it (chicken broth)... but the 50 packs were only $5.42!!

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Do Vampires have Cooties?

I just finished Twilight by Stephanie Meyer for the second time.

I freaking LOVE that book... like seriously... LOVE.

Twilight is part of a series... a saga if you will. The fourth book in the series, Breaking Dawn, is coming out on August 2nd (but who's keeping track), the day we leave Greece.

I am a person who firmly believes in re-reading books before the next in the series is released.

I did it every time with the Harry Potter books, and even with the films. I love catching the little references the author makes to previous story lines and noticing things that you didn't see before. It makes it new and interesting each time I read it (even the millionth time... enter Harry Potter).

Anywho, I decided to read the three previous Twilight books before I go to Greece in a month. I figure the books will be fresh in my mind by the time the fourth one comes out, and I won't have to carry the 700 plus page books with me throughout the Greek islands.

So I started Twilight at 4:30 pm yesterday and finished it at 7:30 pm today.

Hmm.... maybe I should have waited until Greece was just a little bit closer.

But I don't mind. The book is just so damn good.

The book is Meyer's first novel, and was the first, and only, book to knock the final Harry Potter book out of the number one spot on the NYT Bestsellers List. Critics are, in fact, coining Meyer as the next J.K. Rowling.

The books are written for the young adult genre (which leaves more mature audiences craving more... vice, at times... but it's all good), so it's been a hit in only some select areas of pop culture.

That's going to change, though, since it will be released as a movie in December, and because the rest of the literary (and MTV) world is catching on.

OK, so here is why I love these books.

One: they are pure entertainment. It's just pure fantasy (a love story between a teenage girl and a vampire), but it is so much fun, and so engrossing, that you can't put it down. It makes me feel like a teenager again... and in the good way, not the horrible-awkward-hate-everyone-and-my-life-way... though I have read things that have made me feel that way again, too (enter The Perks of Being a Wallflower, another favorite).

Two: I am a huge sucker for romance. I love those super-sappy-totally-not-real-never-could-ever-happen stories. I just can't help it. They have some secret power over me and my weak-overly-emotional-over-sized-aortic-pump. I love the fantasy of it and the pain it makes me feel. All entertainment is fantasy, and sometimes the real world is just too real, so I figure that a good love story, with all the ups and downs, can never be too harmful.

Three: they make me forget about everything else. I seriously will think about them all of the time... even for my second read of Twilight, I couldn't stop thinking about it. I know what happens, but I'm just so excited to read it again. And I love that feeling. Very few things have that sort of power over me, so the fact these books have it shows how good they are.

Now, these books are not for everyone. Mike read it, and although he said it was a "good read", they're not his cup of tea.

I don't think Dad should read it... he just couldn't do it.

And that's OK.

I may be on the same page (pun intended) with 13 year old girls across the globe, and that's OK too. I have made my peace with that.

So this has been a pretty pop culture / book critic post... here's a quick blurb about my Friday to bring my post back to Speakin's usual tone:

Friday's are just tough. I don't care if you have the best job in the world, or if you take your favorite classes on Fridays... they are just tough. Like, the last 3 hours of the day seem like 30 hours, instead. Everything goes as slow as... Twinkies rotting.

So, I decided to take a little break from the grind and make an origami fortune teller, AKA a cootie catcher.

I don't know if I've made one since the 4th grade... actually, I think I had to have Dana or Larisa make mine for me... anywho, I found the instructions and created a supreme cootie catcher.

It really was quite the feat of engineering.

So I decided to write fortunes on it. Numbers on the outside (1-8), colors on the first layer (red, green, purple, blue, yellow, orange, pink, and, of course, taupe), and then the fortunes on the inside. I made these as answers to yes or no questions, much like the mysterious and talented 8 ball.

You know, mystical answers to important questions: hell yes, hell no, let me think on it, I don't give a damn, does it matter, really?, damn straight, and bitch please (there's one more that I can't remember... probably a boring one).

Me to Jeannie: Ask it a question.
Jeannie: Um... will me and *boy she's just started seeing* be together forever?
Me: Geez Jeannie, can you not ask such a school girl question *roll eyes*?
Jeannie: Oh! I'm the school girl? You're the one holding the cootie catcher!
Mark (sitting a few cubes away): You know, Jeannie makes a pretty good case.
Me: I hate you both.

Her answer, I'm sorry to say, was "hell no".

But who's going to believe a cootie catcher?... Don't tell it I said that, though, just in case it reads this.

Friday, June 13, 2008

Does this Hard Hat Make me Look Fat?

I told some people at work a little story, and I have decided to share it with the masses. (That's you).

Kayla is a sweet Kansas girl that I went to Vegas with. When she first got to Colorado we all went out to eat at the California Pizza Kitchen (I got the BBQ Chicken Pizza, with no Chicken). She was telling us about a recent conference she attended for her job as a tax auditor.

I know what you are thinking: "How exciting can a conference for tax auditors be?"

Well, apparently it's quite the party. Especially when it comes to the activities they were able to partake in between all of the conferencing about the taxes.

One such activity, and the focus of my little story, was a trip to the Kansas Underground Salt Mine Museum.

I know... wow... I now want to be a tax auditor, too.

She said that you had to go into an elevator shaft, in the dark, down 600 feet into the Earth's core.

I can already feel Mom hyperventilating.

You also have to have emergency oxygen with you at all times, and then you take little golf carts through the mine to the museum area.

Now, all of this sounds interesting enough. Hell, even educational. But then she told me the best part:

Kayla: Yeah, it's one of the 8 Wonders of Kansas.
Me: *Pause* *Swallow Chicken BBQ without the Chicken Pizza* Wait... there are 8 Wonders in Kansas?
Kayla: I guess so.
Me: The freakin' world only has 7... how the hell did Kansas, of all places, get 8??

Kayla and Jeannie then tried to figure out what the 8 could be. There is, obviously, the Giant Ball of Twine, as well as the Garden of Eden and the "In Cold Blood House" (creepy), plus a really big barn in their home town of Colby...

That salt mine was starting to sound pretty darn cool.

Then Kayla said the next thing:

Kayla: They were really excited because they'd just had their first wedding there.
Me: *Pause* *Choke on piece of Chicken BBQ without the Chicken Pizza* You're kidding me.
Kayla: Nope, they hold wedding receptions... it's in their brochure.
Me: Where? In the mine itself.
Kayla: Yeah, in the museum part. There's even a dance floor.

OK, first of all, I want you to know that Kayla and Jeannie, as proud of their home state as they are, were just as shocked about all of these things as I was, and thought it all just as ridiculous... they are semi-normal.

But who the hell has their wedding in a salt mine 600 feet underground?

How do you write an invitation for that?

Please join us for the joyous wedding ceremony of Billy Bob Joe and Betty Joe Bob. RSVP necessary, as we need to know how many trips the elevator shaft must make. Oh, and hard hats required... we provide emergency oxygen tanks.

If the meal is bland, can you just walk over to the wall and scrape off some extra salt?

I guess it's better than having your reception at the In Cold Blood House.

I told Mike we should put our name on the list... and see the other 7 wonders for our honeymoon.

Don't worry, Mom, we'll get you a paper bag that will match your dress.

Here's a link to all of the 8 Wonders of Kansas, and notice that the Giant Ball O' Twine is a runner-up... shocker it didn't beat the "Big Well".

Monday, June 9, 2008

One for Ma


I am all alone for lunch today, so I am here, posting my lonliness on the world wide web.

A couple of days ago my mom asked me to post about a specific topic that pisses her off. The only reason that I have agreed to do so is because this issue also pisses me off.

She came around the corner looking all angry, and said "Will you please blog about idiots who talk on their cell phone in the bathroom?"
Well, sure, ma.

I hate idiots who talk on their cell phone in the bathroom. Maybe not to the extent as Mom, who sat there flushing the toilet a few extra times to bug the person in the next stall having the offensive conversation (passive aggressive, are we?).

It is annoying, though, to be in a public bathroom, minding my own business, and hear someone in the next stall doing her buisness, while chatting about last night's episode of CSI: Miami.

I mean really, is the conversation so important that you cannot wait the 2 minutes to call back?

Does the person on the other end really not care that you are on the freakin toilet while talking to them?

Plus, public bathrooms tend to echo. Those little stall doors are in no way sound proof. In fact, I would argue that the tile and porcelin causes sounds (and conversations) to be louder.

The bathroom is a place of privacy, but, let's face it, there is nothing really that private about an echoing room with doors that have two foot gaps on the bottom and top. It's only private in one's own home... and even then it creeps me out when people talk on the phone while doing... stuff... on the toilet.

If you want to make a phone call, go somewhere else... as long as it's not the stall next to me (or Mom).

I bet this person also talks in the bathroom. Grr...

I'm getting really excited for Greece. I just want to go go go!! I feel like it's hard to really start planning out my life-post-WOG before I go. I keep getting distracted thinking about the beach and the city and the food... mmm... food.

Mike said that he is going to shave the dogs today. He keeps saying that the girls better sit still, otherwise they will be the stupid ones walking around with only a few shaved streaks down their backs.

I informed him that I don't think that the girls will see it the same way.

He said that Bonnie is very into her looks. Hannah is more of a free spirit, so she'd probably think that she was being "progressive" or something.

I think Hannah and Bonnie will be scared to death of the crazy noise making monster giving them bald spots...

But that may just be a difference in opinions... only time will tell.

Lunch is over soon...

And I'm still hungry.

Sunday, June 8, 2008

I will Blind you with my Awesomness

It's been awhile since I've posted. I've been tired and uninspired.

What's happened over the last few days?

Well, for one thing, Kung Fu Panda kicks ass. It was flippin' fantastic.

Another thing... work is hard. It's hard to sit in one place all the live long day. But, at the end of the week, it feels pretty cool to see all of those hours on my time card. It will feel even cooler seeing my paycheck on Friday. Plus, I am working my way toward a fun time in Greece. I mean, making money equals not sleeping in the dumpster in Athens or having to ride a piece of rubbish across the ocean to Crete... although that would make a cool blog entry.

It is weird to think that this work thing is what my life will be for the next three or four decades.

And it's also kind of depressing.

I went shopping with J and J yesterday. We were walking, and this cute little boy saw us and jumped/fell of a bench and ran over to me. He smiled, and grabbed me around the knees and gave me a big hug.

I'm thinking he thought I was someone else, like his aunt or sister or something, but it's still nice to get hugged by a toddler with a huge smile on his face.

Today we went on a bike ride. I almost died.

But I am proud of myself. I was ready to quit about 13 minutes into it, but decided to push myself. So Mike asked me what my goal was, and we decided to make it all the way to the Kohn's house. It took forever, especially because I was in gears 1:1 and moving at a snails pace... but I did it!

I collapsed on the front lawn as soon as we got there. A little while later, Dave came out of the garage with a dolly and asked if I wanted to hop on so he could roll we into the house.

Thanks, Dave.

Dave and Mike then decided to come up with the most logical way to get to the Big House by bike.

I finally broke up their little pow-wow by telling them that there was no way that I was going to ride my broken butt all the way to the Big House. Grr...

So we drove there instead.

We got the girls, got Joey Carrillo, and headed to the Big House for a play date. The street lights were out all along Valmont Road, so we decided to be good Samaritans and call the Boulder PD. Mike told them that there was no emergency, but all of the street lights were out. She told him that they were aware of the issue... and then hung up on him.

So much for being thankful for awesome citizens like us.

The power was also out at the Big House. This means that when I went to have a relaxing read in the massage chair... it was just a stupid regular chair. No nice massage. Only stupid chair...

Tonight we went to Rincon Del Sol. It was fun, as it always is to eat with my parents. They are funny people. Dad looked up the words to the theme to Mr. Ed.

It's now stuck in my head... of course.

Thursday, June 5, 2008

Short and Sweet

I love my family.

They are weird and hilarious and sweet and inappropriate and wonderful.

We had family dinner tonight. We haven't had a family dinner, just the four of us, in a really long time. It's fun to laugh with them, and eat really good food (thanks mom), and feel loved.

I really cannot think of anything else to say...

I have to go take a nap because me and the boys are going to a midnight showing of Kung Fu Panda.

I'm a pathetic child and can't stay up that late.

I'm not really sure why we are, but I'm sure it will be a blast.

Tuesday, June 3, 2008

I'm too Sexy for my Yard Work

A couple of days ago I was mowing the lawn, because I don't need no stinkin man.

Anywho, I was mowing, and all of these people were staring at me as they drove/walked/skateboarded/biked/ran by. I was wondering why they were staring at me.

And I mean really staring at me. Like, watching me as they pulled up, and then continuing to watch me as they sat at the light, and then still watching me as they turned the corner.

It was weird.

Now, it was pretty obvious to me, as I'm sure it is to you all, why this was happening.

All of these people were drawn to me because of my intense and amazing beauty. My looks must have been calling- no, screaming to these poor, helpless folks.

Especially with sweat dripping down my face and my stained t-shirt and tree branches sticking out of my hair (the tree attacked me while I was trying to mow under it).

Then I thought, "well maybe it's not my beauty".

Then I was thinking that maybe something was wrong with me. Like a big booger or a big rip in the back of my shorts.

I checked... multiple times... and nothing.

Is it because I'm a girl mowing the lawn? Well, that would be stupid.

It must be the beauty.

When I mow the lawn, I have trouble being pretty about it. By this I mean that I have trouble making the lawn all even and nice looking while I do it.

There's always a lot of those silly little long grasses that end up all alone after I do a strip with the mower. Or I mean to do a straight line, and end up with some sort of zig-zag design on the lawn.

In fact, I ended up with a big circle in the middle of the lawn... and no clue how it got there.

It was some sort of crop circle thingy... I blame aliens.