The High School Meme

Frog recently posted this and I am glad. I have been looking for a good meme. It should be interesting trying to remember back to high school. On May 31st, it will be 20 years since I graduated.

What were your three favorite bands?

I know I liked Madonna. Mainly I listened to whatever was played on KDWB. Or to my soundtrack of Jesus Christ Superstar.

What was your favorite outfit?

I wore jeans. I would usually top it with either a mint green vest over a peach long sleeved shirt (or it could have been vice versa, I just remember the colors) or my dad’s old flannel shirts that I found in the attic after he moved out.

What was up with your hair?

I have always been hair challenged. This was during the mid-80’s (83-85) and I did not know how to work a curling iron. The only time my hair feathered was when someone did it for me. So my hair was never truly BIG, thank God.

Who were your friends?

I hung out with people from the Newspaper and Yearbook staff. Sue, Kathy and also Anya (although she wasn’t on either). Plus our advisor, Mrs. Johnson.

What did you do after school?

Usually worked on the Newspaper or the Yearbook. I was also in most of the plays so I spent a lot of time with the Drama Club as well.

What did you do in your summers?

Went to the library. Worked crappy part time jobs through the state because we were poor.

Did you take the bus?

Yep. Never got my driver’s license. Still don’t have it.

Who did you have a crush on?

You name him; I probably had a crush on him. I was amazingly fickle. In one week, I had a crush on 10 different guys. I remember that on my list of boys I liked, one of them was known only as “Boy who held the drinking fountain for me.”

Did you fight with your parents?

Of course. Mainly my mother, since my parents were divorced since I was 13 and I rarely saw my father.

Who did you have a celebrity crush on?

No one that I recall exactly. I do remember that my mom turned the TV off once when I was drooling over a video of Prince in a bathtub of bubbles.

Did you smoke cigarettes?

Yes. A pack lasted me about ten days.

Did you lug all of your books around in your backpack all day because you were too nervous to find your locker?

No.

Did you go to prom?

No. My senior year, my boyfriend and I went to see Heavy Metal, the movie (it was a midnight movie (earlier, cult movies were played at this one theater) and then have sex for the first time in the back seat of his Omni. I’m thinking prom would have been better, knowing what I know now.

Where did you think you'd be at the age you are now?

I had plans. I was going to write the All American novel, follow it up with several well-written sequels and amaze everyone with my brilliance. I was going to return to my high school in triumph, a much thinner, richer, beauty queen who married extremely well and prove to the cliques that they missed out when they excluded me.

Nothing turned out the way I planned, except for realizing that they did miss out. I was, and am, way too cool for them.

Frog got this via chasmyn.

Previous Comments:

At 1:38 AM, DeAnn said...
Keep up the posting while I'm gone. I'll miss you!!
At 1:46 PM, The Lioness said...
HEY!!!! CATEGORIES!!!! Cool!!! Now, to prevent them from being right on top of the links, insert this tag after the code for them is over:<><>MINUS the spaces btwn characters, had to do it this way bcs Blogger doesn't accept tags within comments. The B stands for Break and is equivalent to pressing Enter.CONGRATS!!!

It's shiny and new!

My computer is set up! Yay!

I am very excited! It does lots of cool things. I have iTunes and am amazed over how quickly it downloads a CD.

Oh, I've always meant to post this but never had. Beth and I were talking one day about what was the first CD we ever bought.

Mine was The Lightning Seeds, Cloudcuckooland. Beth found that very odd and thought I was making it up.

What was your first CD?

Previous Comments:

At 5:10 PM, brooksba said...
My first CD was "Pump up the Jam" by Technotronic. I listened to one song on it, once. I'm so glad my music tastes have evolved beyond the "What do all the kids at school like?" It makes me a happier adult.Love ya!Beth
At 8:56 AM, Cy said...
If I remember correctly, it was Police, Synchronicity.Either that, or the Violent Femmes, but I think that might have been my first tape.
At 5:36 AM, Weary Hag said...
Hi Dana,The first CD I ever owned was Diana Krall's "Love Scenes." It's a great little compilation of jazz standards. The first LP I ever bought for myself (ugh, I'm such an old fart)... Johnny Nash, "I Can See Clearly Now." WearyHag

Well, at least it's exercise

I'm going to climb up onto my soapbox again but give me a minute here. I have to scream. Loudly.

ARRRRRRGH!

There is a bumper sticker that I want to buy. I don’t know where to find it but I want it. It says this:

“Where are we going? And how did we end up in this hand basket?”

A few days ago, Beth did an excellent post about equal rights. She had received an email from the Human Rights Committee about how our glorious president has started his new term out with a bang, trying to push through the Marriage Protection Act (MPA) yet again.

I don’t follow politics very well. Quite frankly, it bores me. But there are some things that I am extremely adamant about. One of those things is equal rights. My parents raised me to believe that everyone was created equally and should be treated equally, regardless of race, creed, religion or sexual preference. I find it ridiculous that my president, the president of a country that boasts about freedom, is so adamant that we need to “protect” marriage.

I’m sorry, but how is marriage under attack? Can anyone answer this for me? I was not aware that there was a team of highly trained ninjas out to get marriage. I haven’t heard anything on the news about terrorist attacks on marriage. But apparently, Mr. Bush, in his misguided wisdom, seems to find the fact that gay Americans want to marry as a threat. And what’s even worse? He has supporters. Personally, I think if you want to protect marriage, maybe you could make it so that people can never get divorced.

The thing that ticks me off the most about this is that the majority of the people against gay marriage are Fundamentalist (AKA born-again) Christians. So you have a bunch of hypocritical people prancing around, preaching about how God wants this and God frowns on that. Well, people, I happen to be born-again. It pretty much means that I accepted Jesus as my personal savior. But I seem to have missed something when I did this.

I don’t seem to be on the pipeline to Jesus, having Him whisper in my ear about how He doesn’t believe in gay marriage. In fact, my Jesus? He’s a pretty righteous dude. He’s all full of love and peace and “judge not lest ye be judged.” He’s about forgiveness and caring and “let he who is without sin cast the first stone.”

It drives me crazy to read blogs where all Christians are lumped into the same category. It also drives me crazy to read blogs where someone is told that they are going to hell for being a lesbian. I thought the whole point about Christianity was to be Christ like. Not once do I ever remember reading that Christ, while hanging on the cross for all of our sins, said “Hey, you know what? This is just for the white, heterosexual rich Americans. All of you other people can just forget about getting into Heaven.”

Who are we to decide what a sin is? Or to try to interpret a bible that was written many centuries ago (by men) and that has been translated many times? I am, by no stretch of the imagination, sin free. Can anyone tell me that they are? And if you can’t, then why are you deciding what is a sin for others?

I don’t understand why gays can’t fight in the military. I don’t understand why they can’t marry. I don’t understand why they can’t adopt. It doesn’t make any sense to me. Now I could sit back and say that I can’t do anything about it because I’m just one person but you know what? My parents raised me to believe that I can do anything. So I’ve already written to my senators, just like Beth’s post recommends. I hope that you will make the same step.

Oh and here’s a little bit more ridiculousness to brighten your day.

It’s not bad enough with the MPA. No, now we have to attack cartoons. Apparently there are some people who are upset with SpongeBob SquarePants. He’s promoting a gay lifestyle. Yes. Since he holds hands with his friend Patrick. Because apparently holding hands means you’re gay. Or, for that matter, a couple. Remember holding hands when you crossed the street when you were in elementary school? I don’t remember anyone checking to make sure we were divided up boy/girl boy/girl, do you? Or anyone telling me “Dana, you crossed the street with Peter. You’re now his girlfriend.”

I’m not a fan of SpongeBob but I may need to start watching him, just to support his lifestyle.

And then I was reading on www.Diversity.com that there is a PBS cartoon under attack now. Apparently they have a cartoon and there is a bunny named Buster that travels around the country. The cartoon is called Postcards from Buster or something like that. Anyway, in one episode, Buster goes to Vermont and meets not one but two lesbian couples. The flak they are receiving is that parents of children may not choose to introduce this information to their children. What information? That people are gay? Oh, my goodness. The article didn’t indicate whether or not Buster had this huge discussion with the couples about their sexuality. That’s probably because the episode is about maple sugaring, not lesbian couples.

Anyway, my whole point to this vant is just this – when I think of how much suffering is taking place in this world, when there is loss of life, homelessness, starvation, murder, rape, pestilence, etc., doesn’t it seem petty to worry about how marriage is defined? Does it really matter if it’s between a man and a woman or a man and a man or a woman and a woman? Is it really that important? When I was a kid, I asked my mom what marriage meant and she replied simply “It’s when two people love each other and want to spend the rest of their life together.” Nothing about what sex they were. Just two people who love each other.

Thanks for listening. Climbing off my soapbox now. And please, check out the post Beth wrote, there is instructions for contacting your senators.

Previous Comments:

At 6:44 PM, The Lioness said...
You go girl, tell it like it is! Amen. SERIOUSLY. And this will all backfire bcs in Muslim countries it's v common for men to walk hand in hand. Guess who'll be v v pissed off! And this is for you: http://buffyology.johnhorner.nu/
At 5:08 PM, brooksba said...
DM,I have the same feelings about this. I figured by doing my original post, it might get you up on the soapbox again. You wrote:"Anyway, my whole point to this vant is just this – when I think of how much suffering is taking place in this world, when there is loss of life, homelessness, starvation, murder, rape, pestilence, etc., doesn’t it seem petty to worry about how marriage is defined?"The answer is "No." It is not petty to worry about how marriage is defined. You actually put a wonderful definition in your post:“It’s when two people love each other and want to spend the rest of their life together.” That is a definition of marriage. I just wonder about how history is going to look back on this time of our history. This fight has been fought before, over and over, for different minorities. It's all still the same argument by those trying to oppress. It's discrimination, plain and simple. Haven't we learned yet?Beth
At 4:19 PM, Robert ~ Marlénè said...
We were talking about these vocally hateful so-called "Christians" at brunch after church yesterday, and Daddy and I agreed that they are giving Christianity a bad name, are in fact destroying Christianity in this country, and should be stopped. If other, real Christians would make a more concerted effort to call these people on their bullshit (the way the United Churches of Christ tried to do, but were thwarted by the media), they might get more support than the right-wing loudmouths who are giving Christ some pretty bad PR. There are a lot of middle-of-the-road, kind-of-conservative, generally compassionate Christians being swept up in the hysteria spewing out of small but dangerously vocal fringe elements like the Moral Majority, Focus on Family, etc... if enlightened Christians could make even more noise, those middle-of-the-road types might swing back the other way, back towards Christ's own teaching. But as Bertrand Russell put it: "The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt." Enlightened loving people tend to make a lot less noise than the stupid and hateful.And on the topic of the "protection of marriage," I'm all for it, and here's why: it is beautifully unenforceable. By stating that a marriage can only be between a man and a woman because a child can only be born from a man and a woman, you therefore state categorically that marriage is exclusively for the purpose of breeding; such "protection" of marriage would illegalize a lot more marriages than gay marriages... such as post-menopausal women, sterile or sterilized men, etc. It would then naturally follow that no marriage could be legitmimate until it produced offspring. The number of test-cases that could be brought against such an amendment is utterly mind-boggling.Both of my senators are already on record as being against the MPA, so I don't need to write and convince them, but I will certainly write in support.

Dana, Queen of the Zombies

I am sick. I knew it was going to happen. I could tell the other day.

Yesterday I stayed home from work because I felt like throwing up every time I took a breath. I slept very late and then spent most of the day watching Buffy episodes (season 2 and the beginning of season 3).

I still do not have my computer up because Keem is sick as well. Maybe tonight? I don't know. She is still sick, but like me, decided to return to work today.

I am back at work today, not because I am feeling any better but because my sickness has moved on from drainage (causing me to want to throw up) to stuffiness. The next to come, probably in the next day or two, will be the congestion moving into my chest and taking up residence. I am hoping it will not be too bad. I used to get bronchitis twice a year and I do not want to repeat that. Of course, that was when I was smoking over a pack of cigarettes a day.

I want to crawl back into bed and sleep but instead I am looking forward to an exciting day of listening to people complain about the stock market. At least it's Friday. Beth and I talked about my going to Fridleykins tonight and spending the weekend at her place. I am not up for that. I want to go to conserve my strength because Keem and I are planning on going over on Saturday to scrapbook with her. And Sunday is karaoke. We have not missed a Sunday night at karaoke for quite some time. I am not planning on missing karaoke until we go to Portugal.

The title is because one of the Buffy episodes I watched was Dead Man's Party. There is a mask that raises the dead and Buffy and the Slayerettes are attacked by a bunch of zombies. I feel somewhat zombie like but as Queen of the Universe, you know I can't just settle for being a zombie. I must rule them.

You know, I think the Dayquil just kicked in. I'm starting to get a little weird. Well, weirder than normal. Have a good day, everyone. Think of me, struggling to get through the day.

Previous Comments:

At 11:44 AM, The Lioness said...
yes, I'm feeling sickly myself, more so since I just found out they changed jy exam date, so it's not on the 16th April instead of the 1st, can you still change your vacation time? I HATE VET SCHOOL!!!!! HATE HATE HATE IT! Hopefully you can, pleas ejust let me know. Feel better dahling.

Glimpses of the Day

I have a feeling that today is going to suck.

It's just a feeling. Oh, and a few things that have already happened this morning. Would you like a breakdown of my morning? Of course you would.

6:00 AM Keem woke me up to tell me that she had acid reflux and would not be going into work. That meant I had to take the bus.

7:12 AM My alarm clock starts blaring. I get out of bed and immediately want to throw up. No. I am not pregnant. I am coming down with a cold. Stupid germs.

8:30 AM Arrive at work, after joyous bus ride (actually, it wasn't that bad. I did get to start my new book, Charlie All Night by Jennifer Crusie and it's very funny so far). Heat up breakfast purchased at tiny store in my building.

8:32 AM Open up breakfast. Go to bite into said breakfast. Realize that breakfast is moldy.

8:33 AM Try very hard not to throw up, realizing how close I came to eating mold.

Okay. Maybe it's not going to be completely crap but it does not have a good start to it.

But hey, the system that was not working the last two days is back up and I can actually do my job without having to keep telling people to call back. So that's good, right?

Previous Comments:

At 2:19 PM, brooksba said...
DM,I'm sorry for the crappy morning. That's too bad. I hope Keem is also feeling better soon. Poor Keem. Poor DM who almost ate icky mold. Not good. Get better NOW! Beth

What's To Come

Okay. Okay. Lioness, I swear it will happen soon. There will be a drop down menu and all will be well with your voice. Stop yelling. You will hurt yourself.

Last night my brother-in-law, Eric, came over with the computer. Keem did not want to set it up until tonight but that is not going to happen because we are going to see In Good Company and Topher Grace far outweighs a new drop down menu. I'm just saying. He's so damn cute.

But I promise. Within the week. And then Beth and I are going to play with my blog this weekend and I may end up with an exciting and new template! Yay!

I am also going through all of the previous posts and moving the comments inside of the posts because I want to get haloscan and someone was somewhat upset when I set moron mouth to haloscan because she thought I had deleted all of her comments. Which I did, in a way, but I still have them in email.

Anyway, soon. Soon my site will be shiny and new. And it will prance around the internet, singing I feel pretty. You just watch.

Previous Comments:

At 1:56 PM, The Lioness said...
Weel I am shocked. Capslocks are NOT shouting, they are EMPHASIS, every portie knows that! Pffff.If you send my comments to me w the dates i will re-post on haloscan. *SIGH* Halo hogs.Anyway, CAN'T WAIT to see new template, ahoy!
At 3:59 PM, brooksba said...
DM,I can't wait for the shiny new template. We're going to have fun with this. I didn't think J was yelling. I knew she said she'd go hoarse from having to ask you over and over. Do you really think Haloscan is better? Hmmm. I'm still in debate as to whether I'd like to add Haloscan someday. Would have to put the existing comments into the posts like you've done though. Maybe. I don't know.I just talked to you. Like 30 seconds ago. This is strange. We're going to a movie! Yea! Pretty Topher. I like Topher. I am not of the opinion though that "Dennis Quaid is a beautiful piece of man meat." He's not bad, but not my favorite. Beth
At 5:31 PM, CarpeDM said...
Okay, let me rephrase that. I think what I meant when I said stop yelling was not that she was yelling but because we're so far away from each other and I can't get into my email that the only way she'd be able to reach me is she'd yell to be heard over the ocean and many, many states.Which doesn't make any sense at all but hey, I'm weird. What do you people want from me? You should have known that by now. Although I can see why that would be confusing to you.Topher! He's only an hour and 40 minutes away!
At 6:31 PM, The Lioness said...
STOP talking abt me like I'm not here!!! *harrumph* (Dennis Quaid is rather edible)
At 12:09 PM, Cy said...
New template! Whoo-hooo! Go get 'em!

I Took The Words Right Out Of Their Mouths

Some lyrics for you before I get into the meat of the post, if you will. Just so you know, I am a huge Meat Loaf fan and when I lived in Madison, I would play my Bat Out of Hell cassette over and over again. Especially this song. There was something so primal about the spoken part and then so happy about the part that was sung. I wish I knew what I did with that cassette.

There’s a scene in a Stephen King novel, Cycle of the Werewolf, which reminds me of the spoken part. The old maid who opens her window to the werewolf, knowing perfectly well that this will lead to her death but she wants to be loved so much that she doesn’t care. And then they change it up with the singing and it just becomes so much fun. Anyway, I like it. If you’ve never heard the song, I recommend it.

You Took The Words Right Out Of My Mouth – Meat Loaf

Spoken:

Boy: On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
Girl: Will he offer me his mouth?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Will he offer me his teeth?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Will he offer me his jaws?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Will he offer me his hunger?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Again, will he offer me his hunger?
Boy: Yes!
Girl: And does he love me?
Boy: Yes.
Girl: Yes.
Boy: On a hot summer night, would you offer your throat to the wolf with the red roses?
Girl: Yes.
Boy: I bet you say that to all the boys!

Sung:
It was a hot summer night and the beach was burning.
There was fog crawling over the sand.
When I listen to your heart
I hear the whole world turning.
I see the shooting stars falling through your trembling hands.

Chorus 1:
You were licking your lips and your lipstick shining.
I was dying just to ask for a taste.
We were lying together in a silver lining by the light of the moon.
You know there's not another moment
Not another moment
Not another moment to waste.

You hold me so close that my knees grow weak.
But my soul is flying high above the ground.
I'm trying to speak but no matter what I do
I just can't seem to make any sound.

Chorus 2:
And then you took the words right out of my mouth.
Oh it must have been while you were kissing me.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
And I swear it's true, I was just about to say I love you.
And then you took the words right out of my mouth.
Oh it must have been while you were kissing me.
You took the words right out of my mouth.
And I swear it's true, I was just about to say I love you.

Now my body is shaking like a wave on the water
And I guess that I'm beginning to grin.
Oh we're finally alone and we can do what we want to.
The night is young and ain't no-one gonna know where you
No-one gonna know where you
No-one's gonna know where you've been.

Repeat Chorus 1
Repeat Chorus 2 twice

Isn’t that great? I love that song. Anyway, the whole point to using that song is that I have a story to tell you, or actually two stories, that sort of ties in with words. And how those words are taken out of mouths. When you hang out with people for awhile, you start picking up their mannerisms, gestures they make, things they say.

In Which The World Becomes Charmingly Askew – Just Like Me

Beth, for example, whenever she is hanging up the phone or leaving, will always tell me to “Be good.” It’s probably a good thing she tells me this – I’m sure that it’s been all that kept me from a life of crime. Because let’s face it, I could so be an evil genius. An awesome evil genius. I would rock. And everyone would love me so much that they wouldn’t even care that I was controlling their world. I imagine that my fake world would be like the Matrix. Except fun and without all of that using people as batteries sort of thing. But you could fly if you wanted to. I would let you. In exchange for the usual – mass love and devotion, riches beyond compare, hot men fawning at my feet, begging to join my harem. Maybe an on call hair stylist. A good looking chauffeur for my fleet of El Caminos. Whatever. I’m not fussy.

But because of Beth, I have quelled my desires to mess with Nature and seriously start enforcing this Queen of the Universe thing. I use my powers for good. Which is kind of odd, with my being the Queen of the Universe, that I would allow her caution to “be good” to compel me to be good. That would almost indicate that her powers outweigh my powers. Hmm.

Well, anyway, we were talking one night and as we were saying goodbye, suddenly I found the words “Be good” come out of my mouth. There was this pause while Beth and I just sat there, frozen. Do you understand the ramifications of this? This may just have ripped the very fabric of society. If I am telling Beth to “Be good,” what hope is there for us all?

But Beth came to the rescue, as she usually does, when she said “Okay. You too.”

Whew. Saved from the burden of having to go rob a bank or take over the country (oh, let’s face it, I would make an awesome president. OF FRANCE!!!!). That Beth is sure a quick thinker. It’s a good thing she’s around, Internet. You just never know what could happen if I went all crazy with power. But you know, I have a great crazy with power laugh. Mwahahahaha!

In Which I Strike the Hearts of My Roommates With Mass Chaos & Fear.

Johnny, I hope you like this. I have been waiting until you got back from Canada to share this story. Just because I was afraid you would miss it. Anyway, apparently you’ve become one of the people I hang out with. Because I’ve picked up some of your phrases. This is not necessarily a good thing. Observe, if you will (where have I picked up this “If you will” phrase? This is the 4th time I’ve used it today. Twice with customers. Twice in this post).

I have mentioned before that Keem has the most comfortable bed in the apartment. And the computer is in her room. So Keem, Jeff and I have a tendency to gravitate to her bedroom when one of us is on the computer. On this night in question, Jeff was on the computer and I had stolen Keem’s bed and much of the pillows, allowing her to lounge at the foot of the bed. I am nothing if not generous.

Somehow I managed to talk Keem into massing my feet. Now, I know I have been celibate for a really long time I have always believed that a good foot massage is much better than sex (Which really doesn’t say much for my past partners prowess when you think about it).

Now there was a time where this theory was proved wrong. I am now indicating a flash back. Let’s do this in a literary manner. Dana cast her memory back to a time where feet played another important part in her life. Okay, let’s not. Anyway, I was over at Beth and Adam’s place one night and Beth was complaining that her feet hurt. Adam offered to give her a foot massage. How generous is that?

Not very. He takes her foot and begins running his knuckle down the sole. Beth and I exchange a puzzled look. He explains that apparently there are crystals in feet (salt crystals? Potassium crystals?) and he is popping them.

Yeah. Adam is a crystal popper. Quite possibly the crystal that he is popping is crystal meth. Because, seriously folks, this was the most fucked up massage that I had ever seen. He did not once take her foot and actually massage it. Just kept doing the crystal popping maneuver for what seemed like hours but actually only lasted about 15 minutes.
When he finished, he said to her in all seriousness that when she stood up, she might feel a bit light headed. Beth stood up and walked around the room without side effects.

A: How does it feel?
B: Pretty much the same as it did before you started.

One thing you should know about Beth is she is not a touchy-feely type. She prefers it if people do not make grandiose gestures of affection or touch her casually. So for her to allow someone to give her a foot massage, that was a big step (pun intended). And she relaxes enough to allow this and the person freaks her right the heck out.

Anyway, back to my story. Keem agreed to massage my feet and I agreed to keep the sound effects to a minimum. Apparently it is a little disconcerting to have someone moan with pleasure when you touch their feet. I don’t understand why but hey, what do I know? Personally I would think it would be an indication that you were doing a good job.

She reached a particularly sore spot. Without meaning to say this, the words “Fuck me” fly out of my mouth. Keem drops my foot.

“Uh, no,” she says. “Get off my bed.”

I then have to explain that Johnny (AKA The Lioness) comments on my blog and Beth’s blog and uses such exciting expressions as “fuck me” and “you tosser” and “what a wanker.” So when I said “fuck me,” it was more of an exclamation of pleasure than an invitation. She is partially mollified by my explanation. Jeff remained in the chair, laughing at us.

Keem gingerly picks up my foot and continues. She applies more pressure.

“Fuck me blind!” I say.

“Okay. That’s it. You’re done.” I am banned from the room.

Dang that Johnny! A perfectly good foot massage ruined because I have a habit of picking up expressions. I sometimes also pick up accents. In the 1980’s, my church did a play called Cotton Patch Gospel – a play about what it would be like if Jesus was born in Georgia. Fun play. Except I kept the accent. For 3 months after the play was over, I was still saying things like “y’all” and “I’m fixin’ to go home” and stuff like that.

I am looking forward to meeting Johnny IRL in April. But you know damn well I’m going to come home with an accent. Oh, well. It’ll be worth it.

Previous Comments:

At 11:17 PM, The Lioness said...
Oh God, I don't usually cry laughing when reading blogs but this one has me still wiping my eyes, :DDDDDDDD AND it was a very funny post but the last bit did me in, how bloody brilliant, I AM NOT SORRY AT ALL bcs you now outed me bfr the whole blogosphere though, bugger you!Also, you neglected to explain to the assembled audience of subjects that it's an expletive for me as well, not a request! YES. AND that it embarrasses me to no end occasionally on MSN. AND that I do keep my swearing to a bare minimum around here, AND that I am more foul-mouthed in English than in Portuguese and that's YOUR language's fault, ours isn't so handy.Thanks for waiting w the story, I would have still found it, I've caught up, but now it's just good timing, in between plagues.But fuck me, how I wish I could HAVE SEEN KEEM'S FACE!!![And woman, check your gmail already, I WROTE THE CODE FOR YOUR DROP-DOWN MENU, I'm making myself hoarse trying to draw your attention to it!]
At 12:38 AM, brooksba said...
DM,Again, and as always, loved this post. You are too classic for words. I know that you haven't gotten a chance to check your gmail because you can't do it from work and the new computer isn't at your place yet, but you have to get that code soon! Or else Johnny's going to lose her voice. I still don't get the whole foot massage thing. But then, you explained why I don't. Crack smoker (not you). Be good.Beth
At 6:34 PM, Matt said...
Dana,I loved this, I thought it was hysterical. I read the part about your foot massage to Scott, he laughed so hard while lighting a cigarette he nearly fell over, and then he said that you must be going through something. I kept laughing after I read this, and am still laughing about as I type these comments. We have all had our moments of saying wrong things at the right time, for instance you and everyone in Perkins knows that the only part of my body that my children are not allowed to draw on is my head. Hope to talk to you soon, OH BY THE WAY, I happened to see on the Catwoman DVD they do a segment all about The Many FAces of Catwoman, and they interview none other than, brace yourself, Adam West. Dare I say, I think that in a bedroom that man is a freaky-deke. Just thought you would enjoy that.Matt

A Meme about books? How absolutely perfect!

Beth actually beat me to DeAnn’s website one day and found this meme. It is about books so I obviously love it. Here’s how it works (from DeAnn’s blog):

Copy this list of 10 authors. Remove the ones not on your bookshelves and replace each of them with ones that are (replaced authors are in bold). The original list comes via White Pebble.

Beth’s list

1. Stephen King
2. Mary Higgins Clark
3. Jude Deveraux
4. John Grisham
5. Michael Crichton
6. JK Rowling
7. Dean Koontz
8. Nora Roberts
9. Jennifer Weiner
10. William Shakespeare (I checked DeAnn’s list. Beth had nothing in common with her books. I have Shakespeare)

The other part of the MEME was (again taken from DeAnn's site):

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don’t search around and look for the “coolest” book you can find. Do what’s actually next to you.

Things My Girlfriend And I Have Argued About by Mil Millington. Sentence five – “He’d just be off, racing in the opposite direction, climbing into the ‘reduced to clear’ bins, putting anything he passed that was remotely hat-like on his head and beaming right across his face.”

This sentence amuses and scares me. The main character is talking about his youngest son and how he always wants to do his own thing. But if you just changed the pronoun to She, you could be talking about me. Because, apparently, I am five.

Previous Comments:

At 2:20 PM, brooksba said...
DM,"Because, apparently, I am five." I love that. See, you're not old. Beth
At 3:30 PM, The Lioness said...
HATE BLOGGER. Anyway, let's see if it accepts it now, im'm on the error page. DM dahling, I wrote the HTML for your categories, it's in the (e)mail, all you need is to copy-paste it in the place where your old, drab categories are. Enjoy!
At 4:26 PM, Firebear said...
Pg 123, fifth sentence:I can't tell you yet.(sounds like an old comedy act.What is the sentence?I can't tell you yet.Sure you can. Go ahead and tell me!I can't tell you yet!Just tell me so we can move on, damit!I CAN'T TELL YOU YET!You are so impossible!)
At 7:26 PM, Matt said...
Page 123, Sentence 5:"She could see slumped shoulders and dangling apelike arms which ended in long hands; she sensed feet somewhere in the black triangle of shadow thrown by the bureau, buth that was all."The book? I will leave that until the end of my comment. Let me just say that it is one of the most twisted, bizarre, and strange stories that this author has written. Not one of his best (hint #1, he is a man), it is not one of his worst, but it is one that will stick with you after you read it for quite some time. I loved your post DM, the sentence that you left on it made me think of Riley. Why? Remember the IRA picture? Look on my site to remind yourself, that sentence fits perfectally. You and him are five, and that is just awesome Dana, it really is. (Even though I find it odd that a five year old girl would have a boyfriend made of yeast....I still can't believe how much I was out of it at that exact moment.) MattP.S. The author is Stephen King and the name of the book is......
At 3:33 AM, brooksba said...
DM,Wait a minute. I was just over reading DeAnn's site and was about to leave a comment and then saw your comment. You had a dream that you were in a hot tub with Archie Bunker?!? You need to tell this story a little more so I'm not so freaked out. Now! Please? Please try to save the scared me. Where's your mannerisms post? I wanty! (Cause now I'm five.)Beth
At 10:48 AM, CarpeDM said...
Matt, it's Gerald's Game. I knew it the minute I read the sentence. That book freaked me the hell out.Beth, that's pretty much it about the dream. Weird, huh? Last night's was even weirder.

Validation

Last night at karaoke, Liz sat at our table.

For those of you not in the know, Liz is the girlfriend of the best karaoke host in the world, Bryan McDonald. We adore Liz. We think Bryan is a rock god. Having Liz sit at our table is like having Meat Loaf's wife wave to us, okay? It's just so damn cool. It's like finally getting to sit at the cool table in high school with all the popular kids. Okay, it's really not. It is a thousand times more awesome than a bunch of stuck up bitches and their dumb jock boyfriends finally letting you sit with them. But you get my point.

Anyway, Liz is introducing us to her friends. She says "This is Beth and Dana. They stalk Bryan. But I'm okay with it."

There are several reasons why we are Bryan's stalkers:

1. When in Las Vegas, Beth and I contemplated going to a bar just so we could say that we sang karaoke in Las Vegas. Then we decided against it. Because it would be like cheating on Bryan. In a weird, he's not our boyfriend sort of way. You know what I mean?
   
2. I once had a dream that Bryan and Liz invited Beth and I to go to a basketball game. And I was really excited. Not because we like basketball but because we were going to be hanging out with Bryan and Liz outside of karaoke. And that would be like karaoke but even better! When I told Bryan this, he started backing away from me with the "you're scaring me now" look on his face.
   
3. I made many Christmas cards this year while over at Beth's. I gave one of them away. To Bryan and Liz. And it was very odd. It was made of metalic shiny paper with multiple colors and metalic stars. And on the inside I wrote "Dude. You are my shining star. No, Dude. Seriously." And then I finished up the sentiment with "This may be the ugliest card in the world so who better to give it to then the best karaoke host in the world and his awesome girlfriend." Or something like that.
   
4. I know where his mom works.
   
5. We frequently refer to Bryan as our pusher. And karaoke as our drug of choice.
   
6. When he sings, I'm pretty sure I start drooling. On occasion, I have required a cigarette while listening to him sing certain songs. It is akin to watching Bobby pour water. Seriously.

Okay, maybe I'm the one stalking him and Beth's just along because I don't drive. But anyway, isn't it cool that Liz refers to us as Bryan's stalkers?

She also asked us if we enjoyed karaoke and we said yes, we did. She told us to start dating a karaoke host and we wouldn't enjoy it that much. Beth made the valid point that the only karaoke host we knew was Bryan so that wouldn't work.

Liz replied "No. You can't date him. I'll let you stalk him but I won't share him with you."

Have I mentioned how much I love my life that stalking a minor celebrity like Bryan is condoned by his girlfriend? And that she also gave us a tentative invitation to come out and hang at their place when they have a bonfire!

We're in!

Beth told me in the car later that she almost did a happy dance but decided that would be just a little too weird. But there was squealing in the car later. Happy, joyous, teenagers fascinated with a rock star squealing!

May your days be merry and bright and your Diet Coke always have lime.

Previous Comments:

At 2:15 PM, brooksba said...
DM,Yes, the thrill of being invited over to our "Karaoke Idol"'s house. And having Liz sit with us. Yep, we rock. In a weird, stalker kind of way. Hey, I emailed the code to you as well. It's in one of your gmail accounts.

Enter Breadman

Last night at The Chalet. There was karaoke. It was fun. Yeah. Like karaoke could ever be anything but fun. Anyway, for your amusement, I bring you the following conversation. The players are myself (DM), Beth (B (B2 was not there)) and Matt (M).

DM: Should I sing Black Velvet?

Beth nods.

M: What?
DM: Black Velvet.
M: Oh. Dana, just to prove how much I didn't hear you, I thought you said your boyfriend was made out of yeast.

We all laugh.

B: Write that down (because if we didn't blog about this stuff you would all miss out and I know you would be sad. Plus, hey, I'm old. How else am I supposed to remember it?).

I comply.

DM: The name of this post is Enter Breadman.

Matt laughs. Beth looks puzzled.

DM: Like "Enter Sandman (Metallica song that she and Michael sing)."

B (to Matt): Did you say yeast? I thought you said geese. I was thinking "Is he Canadian?"

Previous Comments:

At 3:05 AM, brooksba said...
DM,This was fun. I am glad that we tend to write down things, because we've proved how horrible our memories are. I don't think it has anything to do with you being "old" (which you're not, you are older than me, but that doesn't make you old, no matter how much we tease you - would we hang out with a geezer? (I'm joking about the term geezer. I just thought it was close to geeser. Hee hee. I'm losing it.))Okay, enough of my rambles.Beth

202-09 – A Karaoke Tale

January 9th was Sunday. To some, this means a time to go back to church and pray. To myself, this means a time to go back to The Chalet and karaoke (You do realize that “Who Will Save Your Soul” by Jewel is now going through my head, right? I’m not really sure why I started this post out like this but hey, let’s just run with it, okay?).

Beth and I were hungry and decided to stop at McDonald’s before going to karaoke. So we got to The Chalet a little later than usual. Not that much, maybe about twenty minutes or so, but I have to tell you, it was certainly nice to walk up to the bar and have Bobby say “I didn’t think you guys were going to be here tonight.” And our table was still open. It’s like there is a magical force field around it and, even though The Chalet was busier than it’s been in awhile, no one touched our table. I finally got the whole Cheers song philosophy about “everyone knows your name.”

Anyway, here’s our evening in categories:

I Almost Break My New Year’s Resolution

After we got there, Michael and B2 from the previous week was there. They joined us at our table, along with some guy named JT (fake name but not a very good one).

JT discovered my karaoke list. We have a system with Bryan. Instead of writing out slips of paper and turning them in (and wasting tons of paper), we have a list of all the songs we sing. I keep re-writing mine and so I have several slips of paper, which I am eventually going to put on an Excel spreadsheet. He noticed 202-09, People Are Strange (you were wondering where I got the title from, weren’t you?) and started asking me to sing it. What I do with my list is go through the book and pick out songs I will sing and also songs I’d like to try in the future. When it’s a slow night, we call that “New Song Sunday” and try to sing new songs. People Are Strange is on there just for nights like that. I have not yet got up the nerve to try it.

But JT would not take no for an answer. JT was getting increasingly drunk and kept touching me. He would grab my shoulder or rub my back or touch my hand. He would lean into me and say “Please sing People Are Strange? Please?” Then he would start singing. Then there would be more touching and some leaning and some more singing into my neck. And there was the beer. He was drinking and at one point I looked down at his hand and there were beer droplets all over it. It was gross. He smelled of beer and it completely turned my stomach every time he spoke to me. Yuck.

At one point, Beth looks at her glass, realizes that it is empty and hands it to me, eyes wide, goofy smile in place. “Me have Cokee!” I, of course, have to write this down because I know I will be blogging about it. When I come back, Cokee is crossed out and she has written “Cokee should be Cokey in Bethspeak. I read it in a book. I’m sure of it.” I was not sure what she meant by this until JT had walked away and she told me she had been talking about him.

Apparently, JT had been going on about Jim Morrison and Janis Joplin and how Jim wanted to have sex with Janis and tried to rape her and when she wouldn’t respond to his affections, he tried to hit her over the head with a beer bottle. Then he said “I know it’s true. I read it in a book. I’m sure of it” or something like that. I had been ignoring him because he really irritated me.

Towards the end of the evening, when JT is just about passed out into his beer and slurring everything he says, he wanders off.

DM: If he touches me again, I’m going to kill him.
Beth: No! Remember your New Year’s Resolution!
DM: Dammit!

Foiled! How sad is it that it’s barely two weeks in to the New Year and I’ve already wanted to break this Resolution twice?

JT starts on the People Are Strange kick again. “Please sing it, please.” Except it sounds more like “Pluheeez? Polleece? Pepeople strange?” because he is slurring so badly. Then he spits on my elbow. I’m pretty sure that was an accident but it was still gross. Beth, trying to protect me (she has said she would miss me if I went to prision for murder), leaps to my defense.

JT: Sing it? Sing sing it!
Beth: NO! (Gives him a stern look) You should stop asking her.
JT: But I really want her to sing it. I’ll go up there with her.
Beth: She doesn’t want to sing it.
DM: I’ve never sung it before. I’m saving it for a slow night.
JT: But there’s no one here!

Beth and I look around the bar. It is packed.

DM: No.
JT: C’mon. I’ll go up there with you.
Beth: She doesn’t want to sing it. YOU go sing it.
JT: I’m not getting up there. I won’t sing in front of people.
Beth: But there’s no one here!

He pretty much leaves me alone after that. Which is just lucky for him.

This is your Beth. This is your Beth on drugs. Any questions?

Michael and Bryan asked Beth about how her surgery went and we talked about how she was on pain killers. It was very interesting to experience karaoke with her completely random comments. Here are some Bethisms from the night.

There was a squeal of feedback from the microphone. Beth winces in pain. I am worried that it caused pain to her tooth in some way. She says “Oh, that hurt my soul.” This caused a lot of laughter and perhaps you just had to be there but the consenus of the table was that she was just so cute.

Later on, I hear this from her. “His shirt is shiny!” I turn and, in the back of the bar, there is a guy dressed in a shirt that really is shiny. It sears my eyes with it’s shininess. He is also wearing a black wig that is disheveled and a pair of sunglasses. He and 3 girls are cavorting, pretending to dance. He grabs a chair and holds it up. His pose is vaguely familiar. And then, right as he cries out “I’m a lion tamer!” I realize what he’s trying to imitate.

Shiny Guy (SG) is called up by Bryan to sing. The name given is Tom Bon Jovi. Hmm. This should be interesting. The 3 girls follow him up to the stage and pretend to be his groupies. He is singing “You Give Love A Bad Name” by Bon Jovi. He hops around the stage, acting out the lyrics, giving the occasional Elvis the Pelvis gyration. It is fairly entertaining. When he is done and is walking away, we hear the following from Bryan.

“The hair…a wig.
The shirt…pajamas.
The drug…Crystal Meth. Or so I’m guessing.”

She is staring off over my shoulder.

“Trippoli,” she says. Huh? A few minutes go by.

“Trippoli,” she says again. Now I’m a bit concerned. I know she’s on pain killers but that’s just a bit more random than I expect.

“Trippoli. Watch this.” I turn around in time to see two bowling balls rolling down the lane at the same time, smashing into pins. Ah. A light bulb goes off over my head. This makes more sense.

“So you were saying ‘trick bowling,’ not ‘Trippoli?’”

At one point, she looks me straight in the eyes and says “Did you hear the people making Twinkies are going bankrupt?” There is a brief pause (as I try to think of something to say other than “Eww, Twinkies”). “And they don’t want to.” I cannot help but start laughing over this because I am not sure of many companies plan on going bankrupt.

What Constitutes Manliness

I live in Minnesota. Minnesota has a football team called the Minnesota Vikings. This name, in case you’re wondering, has something to do with the fact that Minnesota was discovered by Vikings (I think) and the majority of us are Scandinavian and really like the cold. Our immediate rivals are the Green Bay Packers. Last Sunday was a playoff game against Green Bay and we won. I was a bit surprised by that but hey, they’re my team. Got to be a little excited. Not as excited as one of the Vikings fan who thought it would be appropriate to grab the hat off of a Green Bay fan and scribble black marker over it.

This ended up being this long, drunken discussion between the GB fan and the Viking fan about respect for one another’s property. At one point, we thought that there would be a fight. Beth, realizing that they were still going on about the stupid hat, had this gem for us.

Beth: Dude. This is the longest, stupidest conversation ever (or stupidest, longest conversation). You could talk about flowers. Or cars. ‘Cause that’s manly.”

Apparently, in Beth’s drug-addled mind, flowers or cars are much more manly than football. This was also evidenced when, for no reason, she suddenly gave the golf clap and said, in a very monotone voice “Yay, football.” Again, we all burst out laughing.

The Devil Went Up to Minnesota, He Was Looking For A Woman

I came back after having a conversation with Bobby. Oh, what the heck, let’s detail it for prosperity.

DM: Can Beth’s pop not have a straw?
Bobby (laughs): I suppose.
DM: She’s not allowed. And I’m afraid she’ll poke her eye out.

You’ll also be pleased to know that I complimented him on his haircut without making a complete fool out of myself. I had been worried about this the last time. Of course, he was pouring water at the time.

Anyway, after the conversation, I come back and Beth has written the following.

What Beth wrote: There’s a guy in a green jacket at the bar. He told this woman, “I’m the anti-Christ on a mission to have sex with every woman.” She replies, “I guess you’re not going to accomplish your mission.”

Why would that be a good pickup line? Even, “You look like you’d know where the nearest correctional facility is,” is a better line.

My personal favorite though, “Nice shoes. Wanna fuck?”

Anyway, that was our Sunday. Sorry that it took so long for me to post. It’s been crazy at work lately!

Hope everyone has been well. Thanks for reading!

Previous Comments:

At 8:00 PM, Matt said...
Why? Why did I have to be sick? Damnit damnit damnit! I missed a good sunday again, DAMNIT!!!!!!!! I have to know, did you moan out loud as you were talking to Bobby watching him pour the water? Please tell me that you did, please, please!!!! I can just imagine it, trying to talk and moan at the same time, brilliant!"I'm the Anti-Christ and I am on a mission to have sex with as many woamn as I can".......I also liked your pickup l ine, but I still think that one of my favorite pick up lines I have ever heard was this:"Your parents must be retarded cause you sure are special."I wish I could have seen this display, I really do. However I am glad that I was there the night that the man had decided to hump the speaker and pull his shirt up over his head while on stage, that was good. I will see you later tongiht when I decide to brave the cold and meet you guys for Queen Time.Just so you know Dana, I love you, you are so cool!Later,Matt
At 2:26 PM, brooksba said...
DM,Great post (a long time coming, nag, nag, nag)! This was a fun night, but certainly full of material. Oh my. It may forever be known as the "Night of the Crazies" at karaoke. You didn't mention the woman and the man who seemed to enjoy Bryan's singing a little too much. I thought that was pretty funny.Beth

Yeah, apparently there is something better

A few nights ago, I wrote about driving with Beth to karaoke and shouting My Cousin Vinny quotes into the night. I had said "It is moments like this that make me believe I have one of the best lives ever. Because if there is anything better than driving down the highway with one of your best friends, listening to No Doubt and shouting My Cousin Vinny quotes into the night as you are on your way to karaoke, I don't know what it is."

Friday night, I agreed to come over and make sure that Beth weathered the after affects of having her wisdom tooth removed.

I'm not sure exactly what I would be able to do if anything serious happened since I do not drive and I certainly am not very good at driving a stick shift. But I can dial 911 like nobody's business.

Fortunately, other than A LOT of pain, weird dizzy spells and some occasional nausea, she has not freaked me out by passing out and requiring either a trip to the emergency room or my frantically trying to figure out where I put my cell phone. She has, however, amused me greatly when her pain medication kicks in. Beth is goofy and a lot of fun most of the time but the pain medication seems to take away that logical side she has in full force and she has been having more red moments than I've ever seen her have. She is doing what Keem refers to as channeling Dana. Or getting in touch with her inner DM, if you will.

Well, sort of. She has not yet taken a bunch of birthday hats and put them on her head and face. She has not yet been leaving a message for someone and suddenly yell "Squirrel!" and then go back to what she was talking about. She has not yet held a stress relief ball to her nose and yelled "Look! I'm a clown!" She has not yet cried at such tear jerkers as "Troy" and "Finding Nemo."

You know, actually now that I think about it, she's really not acting like me at all. She did, however, decide to read a book to me last night. A book called The Boxcar Children. This is a book about four orphaned children, ranging in ages 5-14, who find themselves living in a boxcar because they are afraid that their grandfather will find them. It's actually very interesting, if you ignore the fact that it is written for children between the ages of 9-12. Not adults that are 26 and 37. There are some gaping holes in the story which I will now detail for you.

1. The author never bothers to tell you how the parents died. At all.
2. The kindly doctor, who the oldest boy works for, is aware that the children are living in a boxcar. And yet he does nothing about it. Until the younger sister gets deathly ill.
3. When the children do meet their grandfather, he is a nice man. Okay. That's fine. But we have no idea why they were afraid to live with him except for the fact that he apparently didn't like their mother. We have no idea why. I suppose we're not supposed to question this that much.
4. The book was originally copyrighted (as far as we can tell) in 1942. So it is not surprising that Henry, the oldest, goes off to find work, leaving his sisters behind to make a home out of the boxcar. But it did grate a little to read about how Jessie was "the home maker." Just a little.
5. The younger children (since Henry is being manly and off working) go on an exploring walk and find a dump in the woods. They are very excited about it. And dump, in this case, is what we would now call a junk yard. Oh, what exciting treasures they find!

But anyway, it was a cute book and Beth and I had a lot of fun sharing in the story. Because she is on massive painkillers and I am easily amused. This led to a talk about favorite books when we were children, such as The Phantom Tollbooth and the Trixie Belden books. And the fact that Beth can name every single member of the Babysitter Club (which I never read because it didn't come out until I was in college). Which sent Beth on a search for The Phantom Tollbooth and resulted in her finding the copies she had of the Trixie Belden books. I am now about halfway through the first book*.

This afternoon I said to Beth the following:

"You know, I thought the whole My Cousin Vinny thing was great. And it was. But now I am sitting here with a good friend, listening to awesome music and reading Trixie Belden: The Secret of the Mansion. I have the best life ever."

Hey. I did say I was easily amused. Last Sunday, I sat in Beth's car and told her that I thought watching the ice melt on her windshield was much more exciting than watching paint dry. Because when ice melts, you can pretend that you are the Ice Queen and the little chunks of ice are villagers who would not worship you. Boy, are they sorry now. You can't do that with paint.
It was about that time that Beth thought it was a good idea to go scrape the car off. I can't imagine why.

*Since I first wrote this post, I have actually finished 3 of the books and am working on the fourth. Except she doesn't have the whole series so I'm missing out on vital tales from my childhood. Oh, the horror.

Previous Comments:

At 6:31 PM, brooksba said...
DM,Oh, this was a fun night (and weekend). Even if I am doped up on pain killers. Which it may be time for more. I need to see about this. Let me check. Yes, it does hurt like a SOB. Yep, time for more pain killers. I wish I could find the Phantom Tollbooth. I bet it's at my dad's. I'll have to check next time I go over there. Maybe tomorrow.I can name the 7 members of the BSC still. I don't know if they added more after I grew out of the series. The original four were: Kristie, Mary Anne, Claudia, and Stacy. Then Dawn moved from California and her mom married Mary Anne's dad. Then Mallory and Jessie joined the club. Mallory had 7 brothers and sisters. Three of her brothers were triplets. Don't get me started on the Sweet Valley High/Kids/College/and whatever they called the middle school days series. I know, I know, it's sick. Aren't you glad I went from that to Stephen King? Alright, I need to take pain medication. Love you!Beth
At 10:22 AM, Matt said...
You are way too funny and so damn cute DM. I love you as well. I am glad that you had a good weekend, I am currently working in a cloud of sickness and medication, but I am at work. Why do you ask? Because of the dumb shits that I work with, apparently the freakin' clinic would fall apart without me here, so I get to come to work feeling like I am going to pass out and try to remain smiley and happy whenever people show up in my office. Oh Joy of all Joys!Hope you have a good day, if I can post later why they are dumb shits I will, but I am not holding my breath that it will happen today.Later,Matt
At 8:38 AM, The Lioness said...
Hullo my Queen, today I feel like commenting so let's seize (almost wrote cease, if you'll believe it) the op. I have missed you as well - and loved, LOVED your message, so so cute! I was only able to hear it here, B's comp was unwilling, but adored it. Looking forward to April! Kisses galore.

Pierced Through the Heart With A Dagger Shaped Slice of Lime

I have been trying to put the words together to write this tale. A tale of betrayal and love rejected. A tale of heart ache and Diet Coke.

You have all traveled on the journey with me. Witnessed the glory of the water. Tasted the Diet Coke with lime. Marveled in that which is Bobby, big, strong masculine hands and all.

Now I have to tell you what happened on Sunday.

Beth and I were sitting at our table (yes, it is ours. No, it does not have our name on it but that’s where we always sit. One of the reasons why we go to karaoke so early) and Michael came over, asking if he and some of his friends could join us. We were thrilled with this. Michael is lots of fun and some of the people now sitting at our table were Angie and Amy who are very talented singers and also quite funny. Sitting across the table from me was Beth and then sitting next to me was Beth.

Yes, I was confused as well. The Beth across the table is the Beth you have heard many tales about, Sheepsheadian Stories Beth. Sitting next to me was Beth, a friend of Michael’s. In fact, she refers to Michael as her bar dad.

Anyway, Beth…oh, hell, this is truly confusing. Okay. Beth is Beth, B2 is the 2nd Beth.

Anyway, B2 had recently broken up with her boyfriend and was not overly fond of men at the time. I am not going to go into details but believe me, if somebody wanted to start singing “Another Somebody Done Somebody Wrong Song,” they would have been at the right table. She was in what I would refer to as a mood. But she was very funny so that is okay.

So, at one point, she makes the remark that there are not any hot looking men at The Chalet. I, of course, took offense to this because there is Bobby and Bobby is smokin’. Yeah, I can’t believe I used the word smokin’ either.

Here is our conversation.

B2: There aren’t any hot men here!
DM: That’s not true. Bobby’s hot.
B2: Yeah but he’s taken.
DM: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO (falls to knees)! Oh, the humanity!

Okay, that didn’t actually happen. This was my actual response.

DM: Yeah. But he’s still hot.

So, anyway, my dreams of a lime studded wedding gown are no more but you can believe me that I am still going to be staring at his hands. I probably won’t be worrying about what I say to him when I am in my Diet Coke with a slice of lime induced trance. Or looking at him when I sing “Change the World.” Or looking for the perfect, cleavage enhancing shirt.

Not that I would ever do any of those things. I am subtle with my crushes. They never know. I am subtle. Like a fox. Subtle is my middle name. Yep. Right after Marie. Dana Marie Subtle Jones, that's my moniker.

You’re not buying this at all, are you?

Previous Comments:

At 6:21 PM, brooksba said...
DM,Oh. I felt the devasation the moment B2 said that. But Bobby is still fun and nice. We can still talk to him. Do you want me to still try and get him to slice a lime for your birthday? I can do it if you want. Beth
At 2:44 AM, Robert ~ Marlénè said...
"Taken"? That's all you got? Not "by whom" and "how seriously"? You give up too easily.Faugh, says I. Taken? Like that ever stopped anybody. Now is the time to start plotting to undermine and/or do away with whoever took him. Relationships can be broken up, so easily (not that you'd ever do anything so underhanded, of course; but you can plot it anyway).But then, crushes have so little to do with availability. My best crushes are on straight boys with whom I don't have the remotest chance. It's all about the chase with a crush... once you catch them, the fun is over.
At 12:49 PM, Matt said...
I am so so so sorry to hear that DM, I truly am. But like Beth says, he is till fun and nice to talk to. I still think that you diving over the bar into his arms might be an effective, if not amusing, tool to use to gain hios affections. But c'est la vie, you can still go on fantasizing and romanticising about his hands, those big, strong, muscular hands that hold the lime so gracefully, as the knife slides through layer upon layer of rind. Slowly, methodically, he slices the limes into the perfect shaped wedges just for you, not too big, not too small, just perfect. Maybe even a small smile tracees his lips as he thinks of you coming up to the bar to ask for your diet coke, with a slice of lime. He thinks of how your beautiful face is there in front of him, the smile on your face that is lighting up the bar, the wanton lust and desire in your eyes. He smailes, grabs the cup and fills it with the ice. You watch as his hands flex, and then unflex, around the glass and the spray gun from which the liquid ambrosia flows. He hands you the glass, your fingers slightly touch his around the glass, you can feel the tingle of desire from him go through his strong, manly fingers straight into yours. You walk back to the table and sit down, ready to start another night of karoke. Hope that helped you out. I will talk to you later,Matt
At 3:54 PM, DeAnn said...
"Taken" is definitely not enough information. You need DETAILS lady!!What are you doing, not getting all of the details for your loyal readers? (even if some of us have to play catch-up because we've been so sick!!)I'm glad to be back!! Hugs to you and Beth (but not B2, because she is the bearer of bad news).

Uh, did you say utes?

On January 2, 2005, Beth and I were headed to karaoke. She noticed that her car was making this sort of thwacking sound, quite possibly coming from the tires. We discussed it and figured it was quite possibly ice in the tires.

It didn't take long. Shortly after that, we made the connection between ice and mud in the tires. Leading us to one of the best movies ever made, My Cousin Vinny.

And, of course, some of the best lines.

We started with this scene because we had just had the ice/mud connection. This is right after Vinny and Lisa are told that there's probably mud in the tires.

"We're famous for our mud," the kind stranger tells them.

"You're famous for your mud? How's your Chinese food?" Lisa asks.

Then we both, at the same time, went straight to this scene. Vinny is in the court room and starts talking to Mr. Tipton. Mr. Tipton is trying to tell everyone in the court room that Billy and Stan committed the murder in 5 minutes (if you haven't seen the movie, go see it now. Seriously. It's great).

"How could it take you 5 minutes to cook your grits when it takes the entire grit-eating world 20 minutes?" Vinny asks.

"Um... I'm a fast cook, I guess." Mr. Tipton replies.

"You're a fast cook? Are we to believe that boiling water soaks into a grit faster in your kitchen than any place on the face of the earth?"

"I don't know."

"Perhaps the laws of physics cease to exist on your stove. Were these magic grits? Did you buy them from the same guy who sold Jack his beanstalk beans?"

We were not far from karaoke and soon had to stop with our quotes.

But I have to tell you. It is moments like this that make me believe I have one of the best lives ever. Because if there is anything better than driving down the highway with one of your best friends, listening to No Doubt and shouting My Cousin Vinny quotes into the night as you are on your way to karaoke, I don't know what it is.

Previous Comments:

At 10:25 AM, Cy said...
"It's time to make your opening statement! Come on, Vin!""Everything that guy said is bulls--t. Thank you."
At 12:46 PM, brooksba said...
DM,It was a fun moment in the car. Even with my car having the shakes from the chunk of ice in the tread. This was a great movie. Just fantastic. "Mrs. Riley, and ONLY Mrs. Riley, how many fingers am I holding up?"Have a fun day!Beth
At 7:25 PM, Matt said...
Of course who could forget the line:"My biological clock is tickin!"And of course:"Oh yea, you blend."I love that movie, that is by far and away one of the best movies ever.By the way Father, "What's a ute?"Matt
At 8:34 AM, CarpeDM said...
"Oh, excuse me, your Honor. The two yoooouuths..."Keem and I watched it on Wednesday. It was great. Even on VHS (I swear I bought it on DVD but no clue where it is. Dang it).

Oh baby, oh baby, oh.

You must imagine that the title is said in the most flat inflection you could ever imagine. There’s no excitement there, it is more of a “Why on Earth would you think I was excited by your pathetic come-on?”

When I wrote Click-Hiss, I didn’t expect the response it would get in comments, about the pathetic pickup lines he was using. I had looked at it being a vant on those annoying walkie-talkie phones. But I guess I did complain about the utter loserness like quality of his whole approach to Cute Girl. Lately we of the Green Ducky Universe have been discussing pickup lines and how cheesy they are. This, and the comments left, have inspired a post (yeah, because what doesn’t inspire a post for me. Oh, look, there is a squirrel. Perhaps I will write someday about my pet squirrel named Grape Nuts).

First off, I bring you the comment left by Jenny of All Eyes On Jenny fame (She amuses me. So therefore I have declared that she is famous. I can do that. If you haven’t checked out her site yet, I recommend it. Her designs are amazing). My comments are in italics.

“This story just made me chuckle. Especially the “any questions?” part, it is my favorite! Poor guy. Poor everyone else that had to deal with him. Believe me, he did annoy me a lot but after awhile, I was just laughing at him. It’s getting to be where I constantly have to have a notebook with me because you never know when you’ll find blogging material.

Also, let me tell you sometimes having the name ‘Jenny’ can be a curse (damn that Tommy Tutuone), but other times when you you come in contact with a whiny guy it can be a blessing: whiny guy won’t go away? Slip him a napkin that says 867-5309/Jenny and tell him you’re busy but to call you later. Ususally those whiny guy types are so far gone, they don’t even notice. It’s sad, but sometimes it just has to be done. You know, when I wrote this, I completely forgot that I “knew” a Jenny. I can imagine that is both a blessing and a curse. Beth, of course, has to deal with the Beth song by Kiss. Apparently there is a song named Dana Marie but do I know it? No. Do men sing it to me? No. Sigh.

Wow I just came off sounding WAY cold and WAY more heartless than I really am. I assure you, it’s only come to the twice in the past. I’m just going to stop talking now." Please. That’s not heartless. That is very funny. Heartless would be if you cut them into little pieces and feed them to your dog.

And Robert~Marlene also provided us with some of the pickup lines he’s received. As a drag queen out in California, I have been impressed with the pictures he posts of his alter ego Marlene in all her glory. He also recently provided me with some glamour tips that I may actually do something about. But I have to admit, I am extremely lazy and don’t think I could ever put that much time into my appearance. Anyway, here’s what he had to say. Again, my comments are in italics.

“I’m endlessly amused by lame pickup attempts. Back when I was young and pretty, my favorite pickup technique belonged to the men who seemed to think that openly insulting me would get my juices flowing. Oh, yes, insult me, baby. That just makes me so hot. Call me fat! Do it!

‘You bleach your hair?’ one asked with a sexy growl, ‘Wow, you must be really stupid. You wanna go out to my truck with me?’ Oh, yes, you have confused me with your logical pickup line. Let’s go.

or better yet...

‘You’re really hot... normally I don’t like drag queens, they’re an embarrassment to the gay community, but you’re an exception. Why do you do drag? I bet you’re really hot as a boy. You shouldn’t do drag.’ Okay, wait. They’re an embarrassment to the gay community but you’re an exception. That is the worst thing I’ve ever heard. That is on par with ‘Oh, I don’t think gays should be allowed to marry but I’m not against gays. I have gay friends.’ If you don’t get the whole drag thing, well, that’s fine. But it’s not fine to insult someone.

For him I invented the patented Marlénè-Whup, where I slowly withdrew one of my opera gloves as this cretin went on dissing my sisters (and, indirectly, me) and displaying an enormous amount of ignorance as to his own cultural history as a gay man, and once off I dampened the fingers in my cocktail, wound the glove up like a wet towel, and swacked him right across the face with it.

It was amazingly satisfying... for me, anyway: he was so drunk I don’t think he felt it, and he kept going on and on, trying to feel me up. I eventually had to walk away. Fortunately, there were plenty of witnesses, and the Marlénè-Whup passed into legend. Damn! I wish I would have seen that. Or thought of it. When people annoy me, I just grip a fork tightly and make stabbing gestures. But then Beth takes the fork away. Which, let’s be honest here, is probably a good thing. Maybe I should start wearing opera gloves.

Both Beth and I have documented the tales of how, when we are at karaoke, men are drawn to her like bees to a flower (Beer Goggles 1, Beer Goggles 2, etc). While they have not necessarily tried pickup lines on her, they have made their interest in her obvious by their vigilance in concentrating on only one part of her body. Word of advice, men of the internet. Staring at a woman’s chest while you talk to her is not a way to win her heart over.

The lines used on Beth most often are “Do you want to sing a duet? How about Picture?” Lately she has won the affections of a man who, while staring at her chest, strokes his moustache and calls her Elizabeth. First of all, eww. The moustache stroking is not sexy. It is also not a turn-on that he deliberately calls her by what he has construed to be her full name (Her name is not Elizabeth. Her mother specifically named her Beth). He has not yet, however, asked her to sing Picture. We are waiting for it to happen.

The one guy (formerly known as THE BOY. Now known as the boy) who looked her in the eyes, the one who was friendly but flirtatious and made her completely giddy has not shown up since she gave him her phone number. Stupid, stupid, stupid boy.

As for myself, there has been the occasional line used on me. Many years ago, when I used to hang out at the Pig’s Lung, an apparently nice young gentleman approached me and began a conversation with me. After about five minutes, he says “What are you going to make me for breakfast tomorrow morning?

Um. Nothing. I have known you for five minutes. And, while during this time, it was not abnormal for me (due to many insecurities and a need for someone, oh God, anyone, to like me) to have sex with random strange men – this was so pathetic that even I rejected it. When I tell him no, sorry, I’m not planning on cooking for you, his response is that I should consider myself lucky that he’s showing any attention to me at all. Because I am fat.

Wow. That sure showed me. I better give you a quick blow job right here in the bar for not recognizing how this is quite possibly the most spectacular day of my life. You are willing to have sex with me. I am sure you will be the best lover I ever have as well and I will write odes to your virility and splendor.

Not.

Another incident took place while I was looking for work in downtown Saint Paul. At the time, I lived in an area where the bus would pick you up at 3 specific times in the morning (7, 8 and 9 AM) and drop you off at 3 specific times in the evening (5, 6 and 7 PM). So if I had an interview at 1:00 PM, I would travel downtown on the 9 o’clock bus and hang out at Galtier Plaza for the majority of the day. Which, honestly, not such a big deal for me. As long as I have a book, I can wait for anything. I rarely ever get bored.

Anyway, I am waiting downtown on Tuesday because I had an interview. During the lunch rush, I look up and there is this guy looking at me. He smiles, I smile, we do this bit of flirtation thing from across the room. When he leaves to go back to work, he rides up the escalator watching me. I felt a bit of regret that this was the end.

But it wasn’t. On Thursday, I had another interview. During the lunch rush, he approaches my table and asks if he can join me. I say yes. He introduces himself, I introduce myself, we start talking. There is smiling and laughter going on. It’s great. He is really nice and wearing a suit and is very cute.

Then it happens. He asks me to dinner. I say that would be lovely. He then asks me, casually, “Are you married?” I say, puzzled, that of course I’m not. Warning sirens go off in my brain. I ask “Are you married?” Expecting, of course, that he will say “No, I wouldn’t ask you to dinner if I was married.”

He didn’t say that.

No, what he did say was “Yes, I am. But I’m looking for some more variety in my life.”

Variety? You are looking for variety? What the hell is that? Oh, you want variety. Okay. Let's go, buddy. I have absolutely no self-respect. I'll be more than happy to sleep with you.

I remember that I stuttered something about being flattered but no, I don't date married men.

Last Sunday, while at karaoke, there were several girls there that were loud and obnoxious and truly irritating. They had two male friends with them, one who roamed the bar drunkenly (and came very close to being pummeled for grabbing one of the women sitting at Beth's and my table), the other had a mullet (and it was curly. That's even more attractive) and stared off into space and really kind of creeped me out a little.

Anyway, apparently these girls all worked at a strip club here in the Twin Cities. One of them is a stripper, the other two are waitresses. One of the waitresses looks familiar to me but I can't place her. She does, however, break one of the cardinal rules of karaoke by singing Picture. Oh My God, she must DIE. But I do not kill her because I just made the New Year's Resolution not to kill anyone this year. I would really hate to break a resolution only 2 days into the New Year. And, if it's not bad enough that she sang Picture, she also sucks at it.

We are joking later on, when this girl gets called up again to do another duet with the stripper, that they will probably sing the Grease song Summer Nights. Which is a great song, if you do it right. We're pretty sure they're not going to be able to handle the doing it right part. But oh, no, it's not Summer Nights. It's Piano Man. I love Billy Joel. Don't get me wrong. The man has an awesome voice. But I am not overly fond of this song.

Drunk Girl (non-stripper) starts wandering around with the cordless mic. She ends up standing behind me, singing to me. Weird. Then she goes to Beth and sings to her. She wanders around a little more and then ends up behind me again. All of a sudden her arm ends up around my shoulder and her hand starts moving down.

Yes. Down. In that area. I know. I was a bit shocked myself.

After she moseys off, I lean forward and say to both Michael and Beth "I think she just grabbed my boob." They find this amusing. Michael asks if I had fun. My response was "Does she look like Halle Berry to you (For the most part, I am rarely ever attracted to women. However, Halle Berry is an exception to that rule. She is beautiful and sexy and I'm going to stop right now before I embarrass myself)?"

The shirt I am wearing looks like scrapbooking paper. It is green and there are multi-colored words all over it. Imagine and Love and others.

I say "I may have Fun and Bliss emblazoned across my breasts but that does not mean it's an advertisement."

Later in the car, on our way back to Beth's, I tell her that I have never been so grateful for gravity in all my life. When Drunk Girl went in for the grab, she mainly just got flab. Due to gravity and the lack of a really good bra, my breasts tend to sag. My nipple, instead of pointing perkily at people, sadly points towards my knees. Pointing the way, if you will, towards where my breasts will end up in a few years.

And it finally dawned on me why Drunk Girl seemed so familiar to me. A few years ago, before Jeff and I became roommates, we rarely saw each other and so he would call me and would take me to gay bars. I would actually dance during this time. Which is scary and I am not going to dwell on it because the only dancing I know (outside of the waltz and the Hustle) is to move my feet in a desperate shuffle.

One such night, he brought me to the Saloon (love these descriptive names for bars. The Saloon. The Chalet. Is there one called The Bar?) and I was standing there with him and 3 of his friends, waiting for the dancing to start. We were killing time by watching something on television, possibly Queer As Folk, and commenting on how incredibly hot the men on it were. I think there may have been incredibly hot men kissing which is quite the turn on. So there I am, surrounded by incredibly hot gay men, watching incredibly hot gay men kiss and I am quite happy.

This woman comes out of nowhere and starts talking to me. I really don't remember what she said or anything, I was in sensory overload and I was with Jeff and wanted to spend my time talking to him. She leaves after a little bit and Jeff, Mike and his other friends are laughing at my bemused expression. "You do realize she was hitting on you, right?" I am asked.

Um. No. I had no clue. I have no clue as to why she would be hitting on me. I am rarely ever hit on.

Later that evening, after Beth had shown up with Adam and his boyfriend at the time, we are all dancing. Adam and his boyfriend are making out so Beth and I start dancing together. This is nothing new for me, when I used to hang out at Pig's Lung, Becky would drag me out onto the dance floor a lot. So I don't really think anything of it.

The woman from before comes over to me. "I thought I would let you know I was leaving."

Okay. Bye.

She then looks Beth up and down, concentrating in the chest area and says "Mmm. You're going to have fun tonight."

Well, yeah, every time Beth and I hang out, we do have fun. Oh, wait...Now I get your meaning. Okay. No. That is not going to happen. I love Beth but I am not in love with her. Besides, Beth doesn't look anything like Halle Berry either.

Anyway, that's it. Pickup lines and gropings. How about you, dear reader? Have you ever had any frightfully pathetic pickup lines? We would love to know.

Previous Comments:

At 12:25 AM, brooksba said...
DM,Great post. I laughed quite a bit. Pick-up lines, oh, why were they created? This is so sad, isn't it?I'm trying to think of the lines I've heard. I don't get hit on often either. At least, I'm oblivious to it if it is happening. I think the guy at the gas station hit on me one night. He didn't have a specific line though, he just made it a point to tell me what his schedule was and that he hadn't seen me in there for a few weeks. Like I'm supposed to change the nights I want to buy something after work to suit him. You don't think I look like Halle Berry? Well, I guess that's fine with me. Actually, I'm quite happy that you don't think that. I love you, but I don't have those feelings for you either. Beth
At 11:28 PM, Firebear said...
I like this post, its very funny and true to life. Reminds me that I have to blog a little bit more (before DM starts sending me those threating emails again, and dm i did send you a twelve page short story! that should buy me a couple more days! remember hurt wrist!) I have never used pick up lines, just seemed silly to me. I have had some used on me, but in my usual way i didn't notice until i either thought about it, or someone told me later. (Dude, she was like all into you!)The ones that stand out in my head.1) I would give you my number but I don't have a pen. Do you have a pen at your apartment, cause I can just follow you there. (to which I replied, That is ok, I have pen and paper in my car, be right back.)2) I have the rights to adapt a novel for a movie script, why don't you come up to my hotel room and I'll let you look at it. (to which I replied, I can't today, maybe next time you are in town, and this is true, i have witnesses to this.)3) I really like your eyes, I could stare into them all night. (Really, well i have to head out and get some sleep. Bye!)4) I have a really nice tattoo on my chest, I bet if you lick it, you'll find it taste good. (yes this one was real, I think I replied something about the guys i'm with are leaving, maybe next time)Did I mention I am sooooo happy not to be single anymore! I will blog on the date with the woman who hated clowns soon!Larry
At 8:44 AM, CarpeDM said...
Oh, my God! Lick my tattoo, it tastes good?No way. No freakin' way, man. No way.Why would you lie to me? I believe you. That is one very strange woman.