All my bags are packed and I'm ready to go

Except that my bags aren't packed yet and I have no idea where I'm going.

So Keem and I have been planning to go see Jeff (former roommate) for months. Since he moved out last year. We actually made the request for time off in January, barely minutes after they said "Hey, you can request your time off for the year." My vacation starts officially at 3:30 PM Thursday, May 3rd.

At this point, Keem and I do not know where we are going. We have been waiting to hear from Jeff about when the best time would be to see him in Colorado (we figured we'd drive around the Denver area on the days he was working and spend quality time with him when he wasn't) but at last notice, something was going on and he was up in the air as to when that best time would be. Today is, as you may have noticed, April 30th. Something tells me we're not going to Denver, Toto.

Our thoughts are this. We're driving. Somewhere. We don't know where. Thoughts include Duluth. Itasca State Park (because I really want to walk across the Mississippi River again (the last time I was 7 or 8 or somewhere around there) that is somewhere up in North Minnesota. Brainerd. Madison. Milwaukee. Ann Arbor (mainly because Keem said there was a planetarium and I like planets. But Liz said we shouldn't go there and we should go to Chicago with Beth next year).

Pretty much I think we're going to get into the car and find a major highway and say "left or right" and then go either left or right.

I think Duluth and Madison/Milwaukee are our two main stops. I want to go to Ella's Deli again. My boyfriend Dave (when I was living in Madison, people, this is not a new development) took me there once and I loved the place. Of course. It was bright and shiny and there is a carousel. Plus the best tuna fish/cream cheese on a bagel sandwich I have ever had in my life.

We come back on May 12th or 13th. Beth is less than pleased with me because I am going to be missing 3 nights of karaoke. I'm also not going to be blogging unless we come across a place that has computers. I won't even be reading blogs. I'm not sure how I'm going to survive this separation from all of you but hey, I'll be on the road, with one of my best friends, driving her insane. Examples of things that will drive Keem insane:

• Are we there yet?
• Um, I have to go to the bathroom and you just passed the last rest stop for 40 miles.
• ZZZZZZZZZ (that would be me snoring because I fell asleep).
• Ooh! Let's go there (this will be followed by Keem saying "What is there? Where is it?" and I will say "I don't know. It just looked like fun.")
• Can I drive?
• I'm bored. You never let me do anything fun (in response to the above bullet point).

Expect lots of pictures when I get back.

Oh, for Teri, who seems to have thought I have forgotten about the whole Craig/James love thing.

Craig has a thing for Beth. Beth does not return his affections. This is a good thing because if she did, I think I would have to hit her. James likes to mock Craig because it is fun.

Anyway, a couple of Sundays ago, Craig got up to sing some song. It doesn't really matter what it was. But James, being the smart ass that we love and adore, had to, well, be a smart ass.

J: What are you going to sing to me, Craig?
C: Nothing! And don't you be writing me notes like a love struck teenager!

I grab my notebook and start writing the following (picture will follow eventually).

Dear Craig,

I love you like a love struck teenager.

Love,

Then I handed it to James and told him to sign it. After much arguing, he did (James: What? DM: Sign it. James: Okay).

I flung the paper down to where Craig was sitting and John* (who was sitting between Beth and Craig, much to her relief) put it on top of his stuff.

*John, by the way, is this guy that I had a slight, tiny, little crush on, mainly because he is smart and doesn’t creep me out the way that Craig does, even though he is kind of lumpy looking and has an unfortunate hair cut. He also is gay, something I thankfully found out before I embarrassed myself completely by getting drunk some night and comparing him to the Flash.

DM: John’s gay.
B: Yep.
DM: He's more fun to talk to now that we know he's gay.
B: Yeah. Because we can talk to him about boys.
DM: I know!*

*You'll all be happy to know that, while Keanu Reeves acting skills were called into question, the opinion is that, as long as he takes off his shirt, none of us care. This is about when Craig said "Oh my God, shut up about men already!" He was probably jealous because he does not look like Keanu Reeves, David Duchovny or whatever other guys we were discussing.

Craig comes back, sits down and sees the note.

C: What's this?
John: Looks like a love note.
C: Did you put him up to this?

He is looking in my direction.

DM: Hee hee hee hee hee (this would be me dissolving into giggles).

Well, none of us can leave it there, of course. James keeps asking Craig about their "love." Craig tells him to do something in some sort of slang that may or may not be English but none of us know that because we live in America and so does Craig for the last TWENTY YEARS! And besides, he claims to be Scottish so perhaps he should be using Scottish slang instead of English slang that might have been popular in the Fifties.

I console James because his love has been rejected. Craig is about ready to hit us all. With the stupid baton/beating stick thing he carries around. Apparently to prove he's a man, I guess.

John grabs the note and writes XXXOOOXXX on it.

John: If I had red lipstick right now, I would kiss this.
DM: Ooh! I have lipstick. It's not red but it'll work.

I slather my lipstick on (I was hoping John would do the lipstick but no, he didn't. Of course I had to. The sacrifices I make for good blogging material) and plant a big kiss on the paper. Then I grab the perfume roll-on I am carrying around for some reason* and wheel the applicator across the paper.

*I don't typically wear makeup or perfume but I will buy it. I figure I am girly enough to like buying it but not girly enough to go through the hassle of putting the stuff on.

DM: There. Now it's scented. Scented with James's love.

This made Liz laugh. That is akin with making Bryan tell me I did a good job singing. While Liz laughs at me alot, this was really the first time it was "Hey, that was damn funny" instead of "Oh my God, you're such a freak, I am laughing to keep you from stabbing me." I can tell the difference between her laughs*.

*Okay, sometimes she does this "Heh" sound which is "You have amused me." This was the first time that it was full laugh. Don't ask. I'm weird. You should have figured this out already.

Later on, after the laughter about the love letter has passed, John is telling us about the car accident he was in.

John: And then I was in a car accident and the fire department was the first to arrive and...
Liz: You were in a car accident? Was anyone hurt?
DM (at the same time as Liz): There was a fireman? Was he cute?
John (to Liz): No, I'm fine. No one else was hurt.
John (to DM): Yes. Very.
DM: Did you get his phone number?
John: No.
DM: Why not? I have to live vicariously through someone since the whole Craig/James thing doesn't seem to be working out.*

Random Movie Review - Night at the Museum

Hello. Last night Keem and I made a trip to Target where we purchased TV Trays (so I can play with beads and hopefully make an anklet that will fit around my gigantic swollen ankle (have I mentioned that sometimes I hate being a woman, especially when that sometimes lasts forever because of the BLOODY HELL I am dealing with? Fortunately my doctor called in a prescription for Provera for me so I don't have to worry about this for another year or so (hopefully. Please God. Are hysterectomies really all that bad?)) because it is finally SPRING! and that means I can wear capris. All the time).

As we headed to the check out lane, I saw the afforementioned Night at the Museum and convinced Keem we must have it (this was easy because she also wanted to see it). So, last night, after dragging the extremely heavy TV Trays up to the apartment, we decided to watch the movie.

As you know, no movie is complete without popcorn (well, for most of us) and Keem prepared the popcorn with cinnamon and sugar (me) and cheese and parmesan (her). Keem is the best cook in the world, just in case you did not know this. I am not.

The basic plot of the movie is that Larry Daley (Ben Stiller) is kind of a loser and can't hold a job and this is causing stress for his ex-wife because she is worried that their son can't handle any more disappointment from Larry's get-rich-quick schemes (example: he invented the "Snapper" which, of course, doesn't get much attention because the "Clapper" is already out there) and the fact that he is constantly moving because he doesn't have any money. As we all know, landlords, for some odd reason, expect to get paid rent or they will evict you. Crazy but true.

Anyway, Larry, realizing that his kid is starting to follow in the footsteps of his somewhat annoying step-father Rob or Bob or something (not really important, he's a bond trader. Who cares? Oh, it's Don. Oops) and so he goes to an employment agency where he is told he is pretty much a loser by the employment agency lady (small part but she is very funny) and the only job he might be able to land is as night watchman at a (wait for it) museum.

The previous watchmen are all being fired because the museum isn't making a lot of money and so there is some time spent with Dick Van Dyke, Mickey Rooney (I thought he was dead but apparently not (Keem: How old is Mickey Rooney? DM: 5,000 years old. Keem: He looks pretty good for his age)) and some other guy that I didn't recognize. Let's consult IMDB. Bill Cobbs. No clue. He looked familiar. They think Larry is perfect for the job. There is some sort of dun duh dah music playing which we know means Larry is in for some sort of trouble.

And boy howdy, is he ever (I do not know where the boy howdy came from)! Starting with a T-Rex who wants to play fetch (absolutely adorable), a really annoying monkey, man-eating lions, mini-people who try to kill him by running a model train into his head & Atilla accompanied by other Huns, Larry finds himself a little out of his element. Fortunately, there is Teddy Roosevelt, aptly played by Robin Williams, who comes to his rescue.

I'm not going to give anymore away but I have to tell you that I loved this movie (okay, big shock, I know. I like pretty much all of them) - there was comedy, adventure & action. There was a good message delivered & touching scenes of love, familial & romantic. Ben Stiller was great. There were some hot guys (Octavius & Ahkmenrah come to mind. And Owen Wilson played a cowboy) and a pretty decent plot. I would say if you get the chance, you should check it out.

Anyway, back to work now. Tax season is done (thank God) & things have slowed down a little bit but I'm on a deadline for some other projects. Hope you all have a great day. And thanks, by the way, for your thoughts on my last post. I appreciated it.

On Tears and Joy

Years ago, when I worked for Majors* Department Store, I met this really cool woman named Elaine and her daughter, Lisa. Elaine is probably one of the greatest women you will ever meet and always felt like a surrogate mother to me and many others. She is bright and funny and she raised a kick-ass daughter.

*Fake name.

Elaine suffered from a massive stroke this weekend. The left side of her brain hemorraghed. I received a call from Lisa this morning and was told that Elaine has passed on but it was very peaceful.

Before Elaine left us, I was able to spend some time with her at the hospice and I have to say that this was probably one of the most uplifting experiences I have ever had. The room was filled with family and friends and I was able to connect with old friends and meet possible new ones. We sat there, talking with each other, laughing and remembering. There was flirtation with a Jimmy John's manager by one of the women. There was jewelry being made, cross-stitch and rug hooking in progress and it felt so much like a craft night among friends.

We talked to Elaine, remembering past experiences and talking about new ones. We told her it was time to go and how much we loved her. We decided that there would not be a traditional funeral but we would go out and have drinks and maybe go sing karaoke (one woman said "And we can take Elaine with us, after all, she is being cremated"). There would be no dark colors, only bright ones in celebration of Elaine.

And while I am sad that this beautiful woman is no longer with us, I am glad that she has moved on and will be watching over all of us.

I hope you are all well. If I haven't mentioned it lately, I'm quite fond of all of you.

Notes from karaoke 4/15/07

And I think to myself this guy can't sing

"It's A Wonderful World" is being sung by a guy in a jean jacket with a hair style frightfully close to being a mullet. When he first entered The Chalet, he said "I thought there was karaoke going on" in a fairly high voice. So it is a little disconcerting to hear him attempt to do the low growly voice. Beth and I have exchanged several telepathic looks. Pretty much we are letting each other know "Oh dear God, I'm scared now."

Playing Trivial Pursuit with Beth

DM: What type of craft was the Super Chicken III, the first of its ilk to cross North America non-stop?
B: A chicken sled?
DM: No but now I'm imagining this sled being led by chickens. Mush!
B: What was it?
DM: Oh. A balloon.

It's the Ken Show!

Ken is a cowboy (cowboy hat, tight jeans (tight in all the right places), shiny belt buckle). Since Beth and I are in no hurry to sing, Bryan has Ken just standing on stage and singing. Country songs. Kind of hot country songs.

B: He's good.
DM: And cute.
B: Nice jeans.
DM: Nice belt buckle pointing to the package.
B: That's not why I was looking at the jeans.
DM: I have no shame.*

*I don't believe that's exactly what I said but since she told me several times that I was staring and one step away from drooling, "I have no shame" pretty much sums it up. Also, Beth likes jeans because they emphasize muscular thighs. I like jeans because they emphasize other things (rear ends, mainly). Although Ken had nice thighs. Oh, hell, Ken had nice everything.

B: I have just realized that I live in the wrong state to have a thing for cowboys.*

*I never would have thought she did but she adores Clint Eastwood and her favorite fictional character is Roland from Stephen King's Gunslinger books and Roland is somewhat based on Clint Eastwood. Now myself? I just have a thing for men. But there is something about a cowboy, isn't there?

Where do they come up with these drink names?

I finally decide to go up and sing. Ken was using the mike stand and I stand in front of it. The microphone is right above eye level for me. I look at Bryan. He laughs and lowers the stand.

DM: Ooh. I've never used the mike stand before. I might cradle the mike.*

*We had a discussion one night about Steve Perry and his urge to cradle the microphone like a lover.

Bryan: Really.
DM: Yes.
B: Are you going to dance?
DM: Maybe. I might make some hand gestures. Interpretive dancing.

A random man at the bar speaks.

RM: Bobby, can I get a double shot of honey ham?

What? I look at Beth. The beginning notes to "Give Me One Reason" start. Just as I am about to open my mouth and sing, I dissolve into giggles.

DM: Did he just say honey ham?

Beth nods. She appears to be as amused as I am. I turn to Bryan.

DM: Yeah, can we try this again?

While I didn't do hand gestures, that didn't stop others from interpretive dance

Beth wrote this.

"A woman is singing "If I Could Turn Back Time." She doesn't sound a bit like Cher but has a take on the look and may have practiced the movements."

This woman has the plain, kind of horsey look, long black hair and is actually performing some sort of dance moves. There was hair flipping as well.

I think this may have been about the Cher wannabe but I don't remember. It'll work here.

B: Maybe she's dyslexic and is reading the notes wrong.
DM: But the notes aren't on the screen.
B: I know but maybe they're in her head. Maybe she's dyslexic and has a photographic memory.

I think there's a secret reason this show is called Pride

Pride (spelled with a lightning bolt in place of the I) is playing on the big screen. Pride appears to be boxing with a bit of ultimate fighting thrown in. It really doesn't make much sense but then neither Beth or I are fans so maybe that explains why it doesn't make sense. However, you do find your eyes drawn to the screen, usually in horror or amusement.

B: Come on! Put your crotch on his head. That seems to be the object of this game.

So, so true. In each of the matches before, both boxers/ultimate fighters/whatever the heck they are would end up slamming each other to the ground and flipping around. Heads were in groins. Groins were in heads. Groins were in groins. It was very disturbing, especially when the little Chinese guy was body slammed by the really big white guy.*

*Now I see nothing wrong with guy on guy action. In fact, I enjoy watching attractive men kiss (totally hot. I figure if the average guy loves the idea of woman on woman action, then I am obviously an average woman. Right? Right? How come no one ever agrees with this theory?). But these were not attractive men. These were scary looking men.

Exactly what note were you looking for there? Because you did not find it.

A woman is singing "black Velvet." I am not sure but I think the best way to describe this is Kermit on mood-altering chemicals after a sex change. Completely monotone until you get to the very end and then she sang the final "If you please" about 3 octaves above her normal range.

B: I heard that in the bathroom.
DM: I think they may have heard that in the next county.*

*Again, I'm not really sure that I said this but I was thinking it and it is my blog so there!

There will be pictures from this night, well, one picture. I will present this picture when I can make sure that I can formulate the perfect words to tell the story of a love so true, it transcends the ages. It is beautiful. Inspiring. It's between Craig (Beret Craig) and James (yes. That James). And that's all I'm leaving you with for now. Because I am evil. Hee.

I know it's just a superstition but some days all you want to do is hide

Is there an apococlypse that I've not been informed about? Seriously, people, the last two days are starting to scare me a little. I do not want my world to end on Friday the 13th.

Examples of things that have gone wrong or just make me think "What the pha?":

Example Number 1: So I had Chinese food for lunch yesterday. Yummy, yummy egg roll. I was so looking forward to it. I prepared the egg roll with the proper amount of soy sauce (mmm, soy sauce. I would drink soy sauce if it weren’t for the fact that excessive sodium makes me puff up like the StaPuff Marshmallow Man). I bit into the egg roll and then it happened.

Ka-boom! The egg roll exploded. Soy sauce and egg roll shrapnel ended up all over the front of my shirt. In a nice little line that said "Hey! I have boobs! Look! Look at them! Here is my cleavage. I know it's not much but still! Boobs!"

I tried to use this disaster to my benefit but was thwarted by Former Boss Matt.

FBM: How are you?
DM: Grr.
FBM: Okay.
DM: Look! Look at what happened!
FBM: Tries to keep from laughing. Fails.
DM: My egg roll attacked me. Can I go home?
FBM: Not yet.
DM: But! But attacking egg rolls! Come on.
FBM: Is your life in danger at this moment?
DM: Yes. There might be bees. Soy sauce loving bees.
FBM: Yeah, that's not going to work.

Example Number 2: I decided to read last Sunday's paper because it was Easter Sunday and therefore there were Peeps Dioramas. I despise Peeps as a candy/snack food/whatever the heck those little sugary things are considered but enjoy when they are used for pictures or dioramas. Some amusing websites have been found which leads to hysterical laughter (Peeps Research, Peeps Wedding, Peeps Using the Library).

DM: Bwahahahahahaha!
Co-worker Cindy: Dana, what are you laughing at?
DM: Peeps.
CWC: I knew it was Peeps. I just knew it.

A slide-show of the winning Dioramas from the Pioneer Press are here.

Anyway, this wasn't the weird thing. What was weird was the letter to Dear Abby.

Dear Abby:

One of my girlfriends, "Dana," broke up with her boyfriend, "Gil," last summer. Prior to the breakup, she obtained his computer password...yadda yadda yadda.

Anyway, apparently "Dana" has "Gil's" password and has been reading his email for the last six months. Anonymous in Michigan wanted to know if this could be considered stalking "Gil." Abby said yes.

I showed this to Beth at karaoke last night.

B: Oh my God. How weird that they chose those for fake names!
DM: I know! And I'm not stalking his email. I swear.

Some of you might remember that I used Gil as a fake name for James for the longest time. Gil stood for "Guy I like." So this was very strange to see this in the paper.

Example Number 3:

This morning a woman called wanting to confirm her sales request. I could see that she had done a sales request over our automated system. What I could not see is what happened to that request.

In a panic, I called our group of people who wait for people to call them with both serious and idiotic questions. Guess what my question was.

Co-worker Linda: Hi, Dana. What's up?
DM: I can't figure out what is going on with this account. Can you take a look at it?

Rattle off account number.

CWL: Okay, I have it.
DM: She did a sales request on Wednesday so it should have sold yesterday but I can't find the sale. What's going on?
CWL: Do you mean the sale for Big Health Organization employee stock purchase plan?
DM: Oh. Oh my GOD. I am such an idiot.

You see, stock here at NABABNA stock owner services has what we refer to issues. This woman had BHO common stock and BHO ESPP stock. I am frantically searching for her sale request in the common stock issue. Not even looking at the big flashing sign that is saying "HEY! Moron! Do you see here where it says she sold the ESPP stock? Right here?"

CWL: You got it now?
DM: Yeah. I'm going home.
CWL: Tries to keep from laughing out loud at me. Fails.

Example Number 4: A woman calls who owns stock in NABABNA. Not a lot of stock. She has an interesting question.

Seriously Deluded Lady: I just received my proxy card for NABABNA.
DM: Yes. How can I help you with that?

I am expecting a normal question like "How do I vote?" or "Why did I receive this?" I am not expecting what I got.

SDL: How do I get added to this?
DM: Excuse me?
SDL: How do I become a nominee?
DM: I'm not sure what you mean.
SDL: How do I get people to vote for me?
DM: Oh! Well, I'll have to look into that.

I call the group of people waiting for questions...etc.

CWL: Hi, Dana!
DM: Linda! I have a question. I am pretty sure I know the answer but I just wanted to check.
CWL: Okay.
DM: My stock holder wants to know how she gets put on the proxy card so people can vote for her. What do I tell her? I want to refer her to investor relations (we are not the same as investor relations but no one gets that).
CWL: She wants what?
DM: She wants people to vote for her and seems to think this is a perfectly normal question. I want to tell her "Uh, become a vice president or something" but that'd be wrong.
CWL: Refer her to investor relations.
DM: Cool. Thanks.

I go back to Seriously Deluded Lady.

DM: Thanks for holding. I will need to refer you to investor relations. Unfortunately, as the record keeper for the company, this isn't something we'd be able to assist you with.
SDL: You can't? I don't understand. You should be able to tell me that.
DM: I apologize but this really isn't something I can help you with.
SDL: Well, can I just write my name in?
DM: Uh, again, I don't know what you would need to do. You could certainly try that but I would suggest you talk to investor relations.
SDL: Fine.

I do not understand how a person who owns a whopping two shares of NABABNA stock seems to think she should be on the board of directors but hey, whatever, right?

The rest of the day was uneventful, thank goodness, except for learning that the IRS has given everyone until Tuesday to file their taxes. Great. Two more stupid days of tax season left. Yippie!

If you're not sure, that was actually sarcasm.

Found this on Patti's website and thought it was cool.

Read my VisualDNA™ Get your own VisualDNA™

Maybe I'm adopted

Old, old post that I never finished. I've been sick (I just love being so sick that I end up throwing up in the bathtub because, well, never mind why) and sore (heel and knee which I get but why did I wake up today feeling like I had been camping (never again, unless there is a hotel involved) and slept on a bed of rocks) so I don't have a lot of words. Hope you all had a good Easter. Keem made ham. I am looking forward to eating it for supper tonight. Anyway, this took place on March 20th but I had to change the date, of course. I promise I'll have something new soon. Possibly new pictures of Eddy because, you know, he is my child. And Keem's.

DM: Your cat is a dork. Eddy, tell your mom you're a dork.
Keem: He's not my cat. He's your cat.
DM: Yes, but he has two moms.

Pause.

DM: I should probably never say that at work, huh? There are enough rumors.
Keem (laughing): Yeah, good idea.

So after my doctor's appointment on Friday, Eric had to drop me off at his house because he had to go to work and pick up the van. In other words, he dumped me on Kari. I was starving so I wandered into the kitchen to see what there was to eat. My mother is sitting there, acting like I did as a teenager - "Good luck. There's nothing to eat in this house."

I open the refrigerator. Ooh! Cheese. I am quite fond of cheese.

DM: Can I have some cheese?
Kari: Yes.
DM: Can I have all of the cheese?
Mom: Why? Why do you want all of the cheese?
DM: Uh, because I like cheese?

Honestly. What does she think I'm going to say here? Because I want to rub it all over my body and sing a song of praise to the Cheese Gods?

I start slicing some cheese. I get to three pieces and am just about to put the rest of the cheese away.

Mom: That's enough.
DM: Uh, yeah. I know.

She gives me the Mom look, the look that says "Dana, you are too fat and stop eating all of the cheese because that's why but I love you and I don't want you to think that I don't love you unconditionally so I will try to guilt you into losing weight. It's been 25 years since I started this. You'd think I'd realize this doesn't work."

DM: Back off, woman. I've got a knife.

I can hear Eric just rolling with laughter in the living room as I slap together a turkey, cheese and mustard sandwich on white bread. White bread. I do not understand my sister. Everyone knows that the best breads are full of fiber and nutty goodness (I am fond of Brownberry's Health Nut. Mmm).

As I eat my sandwich, I let Mom and Kari know about the lovely trip to the doctor and how I am just a few steps away from Hoverounding my way through life (Yes, yes, I know it's not that bad but I am quite fond of creative exaggeration). It is then time to see Josh's new bunk beds and spend quality time with him. This involved playing that I am going to get him on the top bunk bed and then he will push me over to the bottom bunk bed and also lying on Mommy and Daddy's bed while he bounces around me as though the bed is a trampoline. He's quite good at it as well. We also pretended that he was Diego* and I was a wounded animal and he was going to help me feel better.

*Speaking of Diego, a few days before we went to the opera, I was speaking to my mother.

DM: So Kari told you were going to go to the show with us, right?
Mom: Why isn't Kari going?
DM: Because she thought you would like it better.
Mom: Well, why doesn't she go with us?
DM: Because we don't have enough tickets. There's only one ticket.
Mom: Well, that's not what she told me.
DM: What did she tell you?
Mom: That Josh would enjoy it.
DM: Josh isn't going. Why would we take Josh to the opera?*
Mom: I don't know. That's what Kari said.
DM: That doesn't make any sense.
Mom: What's it called.
DM: The Mikado.
Mom: What's it about?
DM (not having a clue): Um, Japanese people?
Mom: I thought she was Hispanic.
DM: Who?
Mom: That girl.
DM: What girl?
Mom: On the books that I buy for Josh.

Clarity comes in one shining moment.

DM: Mom. Why would I go to an opera about Dora the Explorer?
Mom: I have no idea. That's what I'm trying to figure out.
DM: I'm thinking you're going to see that with Kari and Josh. This is with Beth, Keem and myself.
Mom: Okay.

*While my nephew is quite brilliant, I'm waiting until he's six to start him on Shakespeare and opera. I think that's an appropriate age, don't you?

Fun with drunk people and other tales from karaoke

Last night, being Sunday, Beth and I journeyed to our specific church, the Church of the Angry Frankenstein Monsters (well, that's what it was last year. I'm not sure what Bryan has decided our new church's name should be for this year) for some special karaoke hijinks (I love the word hijinks. I love the way it looks with the i-j-i. The three dots makes me happy for some reason).

Angie was there and we hadn't seen her for awhile so there was a chance to get updates. I had my head turned (can't hear unless I'm looking directly at people if there is a lot of background noise) and so didn't catch the whole update but apparently the sex? It is good (she's dating someone new). She brought her co-worker and friend Jessica with her to celebrate Jessica's 21st birthday. Great. Another person who could be my kid.

Angie (to me): You look great.
DM: What kind of drugs are you on?
Angie and Jessica: Percoset!

Angie's having some kidney problems and has been provided with drugs that seem to help. What would be more helpful is if the doctors could figure out what was wrong.

As the evening progressed, Jessica proceeded to become more and more intoxicated. Not sloppy drunk, thank goodness, just kind of silly.

Bryan: Why are you looking at me? Why?
B (Beth): Because we hang on every word you say.
Jessica: And every beat you (pause) box.

Sara (not Sara with an H. Sara "You're so pretty" Sara (we tell her this and it drives her nuts) was there, wearing her "Tell your boyfriend to stop calling me" tank top.

Jessica: I knew that was Sara. I recognized her boobs.
DM: Yeah, if I had Sara's boobs, I'd be flaunting them as well.
Angie: So would I.
DM: Oh, shut up (the girl has a nice rack (hey, sometimes I channel my inner straight man)).
Ryan: Yeah, they were out in full force last night.
Bryan: I thought you were talking about a group and then I realized you just meant Sara.

Sara was singing this song by somebody (Fleetwood Mac? I think?) and Jessica looked amazed.

Jessica: I was just singing this song in my head in the bathroom! I'm psychic when I'm drunk.

Please excuse me while I chuckle over this again.

Bryan tried a new drink.

Bryan: Don't drink Jim Beam Black. You can give the money to a homeless man and have him kick you in the stomach. It's the same feeling.

Pause.

Bryan: My mouth is frothy.

Girl after my own heart. She really could be my kid.

Jessica: Don't you love me? I love me.

Later Bryan was exchanging words with Sara, telling her to come up and sing.

Bryan: Strumpet!

Pause.

Bryan: Strumpet? I have Shakespearean Tourettes.

Shannon was also there. Shannon is very pretty, a hair stylist (another person who has told me "Please! For the love of GOD! Do not cut your own hair. I don't even cut my own hair!) who I like a lot but she is, well, a bit bossy. Funny as heck but bossy. She wanted Bryan to sing Purple Rain (because he's so damn good at it and hi-larious).

Bryan: Dana (calling me up to sing).
DM: I'm going to pass so you can sing Purple Rain.
B: Wow! She didn't say Candy Man (well, the man does the best imitation of Sammy Davis Jr but he did sing it on my birthday so I am trying not to be greedy).
Bryan: But I'm not going to sing.
DM: You have to. Shannon scares me.
B (gives me the Beth look): Who scares you more?
DM: I'm going to go sing now.

Bryan did give into pressure and sang Purple Rain. He decided he was going to mess it up so we'd never ask for it again. His plan backfired.

Bryan: Purple Rain - Comma - Purple Rain Dot dot dot Purple Rain - Comma - ooh Exclamation Point

There are no words to explain how funny listening to him sing every bit of punctuation in this song was. He is so brilliant and managed to fit it in there and be in tune. Amazing.

After he was done:

Bryan: Dana.
DM: 100 hyphen 12.
Bryan: Thank you for putting in the hyphen.
DM: You're welcome.

So you're all aware of the Chicken Conspiracy that Beth started, right? Well, Thursday she picked me up for karaoke. I get in the car. I say hello to her but I'm putting my seatbelt on so don't look at her yet. Suddenly I hear this weird little voice.

B: Hello.

I turn and look at her. She is wearing a chicken mask.

DM: Oh my GOD!

There may have been jumping. Anyway, said chicken mask is going to being hung up in my cubicle and I have just received permission to take pictures of my cubicle so you can see exactly how I have chosen to fill the walls here. Believe me when I say I use every possible ounce of space to fill with non-work related things - such as frogs and magnets and my piggy bank Pig and comic strips and lots and lots of political stuff. Take that, Republicans!

Do you know how embarrassed I am that there will be a GOP convention here and that the city is planning on making fancy new roofs and then stealing the pigeon eggs? Because apparently pigeons offend the Rupublicans. Stupid Republicans. Pigeons are kind of cute. Because they are birds. And birds are our friends.

DM: I kind of want to blow up the place where they're having their convention (but I don't know where it is so that might be a problem (And I have no access to blowing up things so that's also a problem (that and I really can't kill people. That is wrong))). Is that wrong?
Mike: Well, I'm not going to be in the building so I'm okay with it.

Oh, anyway, I'm slightly off tangent (big shock there) and I was going to talk about all of the chicken songs that we sang. It was awesome.

I sang "Passionate Kisses" and substituted "Chickens" for "Kisses."
Angie and Bryan sang "I Had the Time of My Life" and used "Chicken" several times.
Beth put chicken in a few songs.

Sara: Enough with the chickens!

Welcome to my world, Sara. Now I just go with it. Although Keem does bug me with the sneaking up on me and yelling "Chicken." Grr.

Easter Sunday is next week so that means there will be the substitution of "Jesus" for "Baby" because at the Chalet, our job is to educate people about new religious choices. Stay tuned for a list of the songs we sing. Oh, and pictures from Sunday night as well (yeah, yeah, it's Thursday. What's your point? I'm only a little late).

And now, by special request, I bring you the pest...I mean adored pet Eddy

Here Eddy sits, surrounded by toys. Does he play with them? Of course not.



Ah, look. There is sour cream. He must have some. Sour cream is his weakness.



But wait! There's pizza? Pizza? Eddy loves pizza. Or at least pizza boxes.



First he must chew on the box. Because that will open the box magically.



Pawing at the box in an attempt to bury it will also help.



What should he do now? Climb on top of the box, of course.



And then there is the pushing. Push the box, Eddy. It will open for you then.



He will not stop until the box is off the table completely.

And now, it is back to his corner. The box is off of the table, apparently that is all he wanted. Oh and the sour cream. The little pig ate a ton of it.



There are more pictures of him, lurking somewhere on my computer. It is just a matter of moving them to Keem's computer.

Sarah has two kittens and she emailed me awhile ago asking how Keem and I kept Eddy off the counters. My response, after I laughed myself silly, was this - "Yeah. Eddy's a free range cat. He goes where he wants, drinks from our glasses, eats off of our plates and pretty much runs the household." Seriously. The cat has a specific eating schedule. Not only does he have his dry food but he must have his wet food when we leave in the morning. And when we come home. And there are the Pounce treats and the Temptation treats that must be doled on an as needed basis.

And here is a past post of him, getting into trouble when he helped us decorate the Christmas tree.

I am easily amused

Hello! I am feeling much better but have come to the conclusion that Keem can never go out of town again. If she wasn't returning today, I would be worried that I might starve to death. How is it possible to own as much Hamburger Helper as we do and not have any hamburger? Where are the cans of soup? Shouldn't there be soup? Good Lord, how much Ramen noodles did I think I would need (although that was lunch yesterday so good call there)? I actually ended up spending yesterday at home so I am not sure if the latest fiasco was due to poor nutrition choices or the stomach flu. Doesn't really matter, actually, what I do know is that throwing up is not fun. Never really been a fan of it.

Last night, doing my laundry at the very last moment (of course), I found the paper and turned to the most important part of any newspaper, the comic strips (when I was younger, my Grandmother and I referred to them as the "funnies" and she used to save them for me. I'd come over and spend a good hour reading weeks and weeks worth of comic strips. God, I miss her (for many other reasons, besides comic strips. There was also the fact that she and I agreed that Bob Barker was the sexiest man on television (this was a long time ago))).


Anyway, I found this (also available here). I think that "No one ever suspects the socks" is going to be my new catch phrase. My cubicle wall is filled with carefully cut out comic strips that have been "laminated" (yeah, pretty much I put tape over them to keep them somewhat secure. I want a laminator but can't see the company ordering one for me so I can keep my comic strips in pristine condition) and I may be running out of room. What with the frogs and the "diversity is important, dammit!" bumper stickers/buttons/post cards and the magnets/picture frames, etc., I'm starting to be a bit overwhelmed by all of this stuff. But it is cool and I like it and one of these days I'll have to get permission to take pictures of it all so you can see the coolness that is my desk.

Keem called. She will be back tonight. Thank God. I think Eddy would self-destruct if he had to go another day without her. And honestly, so would I. At least we all know she'll be an excellent mother.

Oh, and I forgot that stupid changes to stupid Blogger means that I ended up with the stupid Blogger comments again. Grr. I'll have to figure out haloscan again.

Shelly said...
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11:20 AM
Lioness said...
Ooooh, the new temnplate kicks absolute ass, I love it! It suits you, dahling. If you're eating ramen noodles, it's no wonder you're vomiting, I would as well. You know what you need to do, MOVE HERE! I can't cook to save my life but really, my veggies always taste good. You love veggies. We'll work on fruits, yes? Start packing.Also, no one ever suspects the socks? Bloody brilliant! I think I must adopt it as well, it's just so... perfect. As are you, only you would dig up such a treasure! Hope you survive till Keem returns and brings Order with her.
5:11 PM
Lioness said...
Eh?? Moderation?? What's happening? Must read on!
5:12 PM

Open letter to my body

Dear body.

Just what the heck is going on? Okay, I get the whole I chopped my bangs thing. That was my own fault. But what's with the two-toned hair? I realize you refused to let the pink streaks take and fine, maybe bright pink isn't the right hair color choice for a woman who has just turned 40. Fine. I get that. But now having bright, bright red where the gray was and maroonish black (which only shows under office lighting (in other words, I can't spell florescent)) hair is okay? That I don't understand.

And then there's the whole heel spurs/possible arthritis thing. You realize that by having heel spurs, you've proven Mom right. This is unforgivable. And I'm pretty sure she mentioned I could possibly have arthritis in her knowing Mom tone.

And yeah, I get that I wasn't really watching where I was going on Thursday and I walked into a pothole (for those of you wondering why I haven't claimed it, the pothole wasn't that big and I really can't file a workman's comp claim on something that is already a problem. After ice and propping up my legs on the footstool at work, I'm doing much better. Still sore but was there already) and wrenched the knee again. And the limping, holding on to chairs, really, really, really hurts when I'm tired thing, I get that. I'm old. Fine.

But I do not understand this latest fiasco. I do not understand what the problem today was. I got up. I went to work (after missing my bus, of course) via cab. I had a nutritious lunch (chicken with rice soup). What was up with the nausea right before I left work followed by the horrible bus ride and the dry heaving which was then followed by walking into the apartment and throwing up in the kitchen sink? That I don't get. Not at all.

Does this have something to do with the 5 cans of Mountain Dew and the really disgusting "hamburger" that I got out of the "Wheel O'Death" (also referred to as the "Vend O'Hurl") I had for breakfast? Because point taken. Point really taken!

Knock it off. I can't afford to be sick. I'm going to bed now, you wuss.

Sincerely,

Me

Lioness said...
Oh you poor thing. Might I suggest some halthier living? You know, less hamburgers for breakfast? More fruit and veggies? No? You want to hurt me? Oh well. YOU NEED TO EAT BETTER!

The Incident

*Cue creepy music. Because, while the incident wasn't that scary or dreadful, except for the PAIN, the title The Incident just cries out for creepy music.

Anyway, those of you who have been reading my blog for awhile might remember that I work in a pretty old building in South Saint Paul. You might even remember that this building has a tendency to have things go wrong with it. Well, I have learned why this is.

Call me paranoid but I think the building is trying to kill me. Slowly (but not Beth, the world's slowest assassin, slowly. At least with Beth she's trying to make me laugh to death, not blow up or freeze to death or cause PAIN).

Here's some of the things that the building has done in the past to send me to that great big Malt Shop in the sky (okay, since I chopped my bangs, "Beauty School Dropout" has been going through my head).

Posting paused for a moment while I deal with the world's most insecure cat who has just walked through the apartment meowing every two seconds because I am not Keem. Keem is not here, she has left him and I have no idea how he is going to deal when we go to Denver in May (fortunately there is a concierge who will take care of him during the week and Kari has agreed to stay here on the weekends). I'll be back.

There was the gas leak, the week that the air conditioning stopped working, the time the heat stopped working, the other time the heat stopped working and screw it, I'm tired of linking to them. I got distracted by other posts and have decided that Beth and I are quite amusing. And that a lot of weird things happen to us, especially at karaoke.

Anyway, so Thursday, the manager of the bank comes over and says to Co-worker John that there is a really bad smell and they think it might be a gas leak so they're evacuating. I go over to Co-worker John.

DM: Did he say he thought there was a gas leak?
Co-worker John: Yes.
DM: Of course.
Co-worker John: I'm emailing Vicki (fake name, her real name isn't very common but she's the secretary/admin of the boss of the boss of my boss (still no clue on what the possessive of boss is)).
DM: Well, all the managers are in a meeting* so I'll let Andrea know. She is the default manager.

*Yeah. The meeting they were in? It was a meeting to discuss what will happen if something goes wrong with the building. Or what we'd do if there was a disaster and only 50 % of the people could get to work. Kind of ironic, don't you think?

I see Andrea walking toward me.

DM: Hi, default manager!
Andrea: Oh dear.
DM: Yeah, there's possibly a gas leak. What should we do? Co-worker John's emailed Vicki.

Just as I say this, all the manager's come pouring in and ushering us out of the building.

As I am walking outside, I see one of my former employee's from the phone center is on her break.

DM: Hey.
FE (former employee): What's going on?
DM: Yeah, you may want to step away from the building with your lit cigarette.

I get about halfway to our designated meeting place and stop.

DM: Okay. That's it. I'll just stand here.
The Other Cheryl (not my boss): No, we have to go down there.
DM (limping to designated meeting place): Yeah, well then I want my Hoveround.

We cluster in the parking lot. After awhile we see the other groups of escapees from danger heading towards the entrance to the parking lot. We decide to walk there (in my case, limp, cursing my stupid body for deciding to fall apart on me).

After standing around some more, while my right heel and left knee start indicating to me that they are not pleased with the standing around, it's time to go off to the VFW. The VFW is kitty corner from our building. So we walk across the street. I am limping more severely by now.

Finally, we are inside the VFW. I head for a table and sit, thankfully, into a chair. The pain from my left knee has started to travel up to my lower back and sitting helps control the back spasms.

I swear to you that I was sitting down for two minutes when someone shouted the all clear. Two minutes. And then it was back across the street and up the drive through lane. I had a brief thought of walking across the parking lot to the entrance on the first floor (our building is built into a hill so the drive through lane is somewhat sloped. Not so steep but it felt like a mountain on Thursday) so I can take the elevator. I decide not to do so. This was a mistake.

I am pretty much just walking along, just one foot in front of another, when it happens. I am not paying that much attention to the ground. There's no ice. No reason to walk the pace of an arthritic snail because I'm afraid I'll fall (my biggest fear, other than the spiral staircases, etc. and vampires, is slipping on the ice. Ask Beth. I have been known to hold onto her for support). Because I am staring at the door, just counting the moments until I can be back at my desk and in my comfy desk chair and put my legs up on the footstool I brought in, I do not see the pothole. It's not a big pothole, mind you. It probably wouldn't do much damage to a car. But it is enough to make me trip.

And it is in the tripping that I wrench my left knee. It is in the tripping that I come down hard on my right foot. It is in the tripping that I almost fall, flat on my face (fortunately it didn't come to that but it was close). Somehow I manage to make it to my desk and promptly pass out from the PAIN. Okay, I didn't but I wanted to pass out. It would have made a nice change. Unfortunately we were busy and I could not go home without it becoming an attendance issue (sometimes you can schedule a half day if it isn't busy). The only thing keeping me from getting a 5 on my performance review was my attendance so I didn't want to screw that up if I didn't need to...plus, I may have to go to physical therapy if the problem with the knee is arthritis and I need to have the vacation time for that.

Anyway, that's The Incident Beth was referring to on the last post. Nothing exciting, exactly, but it did get a quip from Bryan when she told him about (I didn't go to karaoke because of The Incident (except Beth referred to it as the misadventure and I think I called it the mishap...eh, my blog. I like The Incident better) - "It's fitting. When we hit a pothole, it just damages our car. If you don't drive, there has to be damage somewhere."

Oh, and Patti made a comment about the Lark carts as being not so fast. I'm not a fan of Seinfeld but I did watch it on occasion and I immediately flashed to one of my favorite episodes. Brief synopsis. Beth, avert your eyes (Beth hates Seinfeld in a way that I reserve for tomatoes).

George goes to a job interview. For some reason, he is limping and his new boss thinks he is handicapped. George gets the job and is given perk after perk. Here's your own bathroom. Here's your special chair (I think). The last thing that happens is that the boss buys him one of those motorized carts. I believe Jerry said something to him about faking the handicap because he is the laziest man on earth. No, wait, here it is "Well it must be comforting to know you'll be going straight to hell at no more than three miles an hour."

Anyway, the part I love is George is tooling around in his new cart and gets into a fight somehow with this biker gang. Except the biker gang are all in their 70's or so and their "bikes" are also motorized carts. He ran into one of the bikes and was rude in typical George fashion. It ends up with this slow-speed chase down the sidewalk. George is trying to crank up the speed to no avail. Finally, in a fit of desperation because he is going to be pounded by the senior citizens, he picks up the cart and starts running down the sidewalk, carrying it over his head. It is then he runs into his boss.

Hilarious. Gordon Jump played the boss and I have been fond of him since WKRP in Cincinati. Plus it was a Puddy episode and everyone knows how I feel about Patrick Warburton and his stocky goodness. Mmm. Puddy.

Open letter to myself

Dana,

Hey. Remember back in high school when you got really sick of your hair and couldn't wait the two weeks for the hair appointment your mother scheduled and you thought "Wow. I bet I could cut my hair myself. No biggie, right?"

Yeah. It is a biggie. Remember how you washed your hair and then trimmed your bangs? And remember the shock when you realized that hair shrinks when it dries? Remember how that really annoying Bernie A started calling you "Victim?" As in a victim of a truck running over your face? Remember the guy in Perkins who saw you and said "God, I hate punks (as in punk rock)?" Remember when you decided you couldn't stand your widow's peak so you decided to shave it and since then it has been a completely different length than the rest of your bangs? Does any of this sound familiar?

It does? Well, that's good. Glad to know that turning 40 hasn't resulted in memory loss along with every freakin' other thing that's gone wrong with you.

So here's my question, Dana. If you remember this, why did you think it would be a good idea to cut your bangs without benefit of a mirror? And when you did remember you had a mirror, why didn't you actually look at your hair? And why didn't you listen to Co-worker's John's pleas that you stop and his threat to tell his wife since she is a hair dresser and how she'll probably end up coming into work on her day off just to fix it? Why? You are aware of the spot where your widow's peak shows through again, right? And no, you cannot shave it. Or cut the rest of your hair short enough to match it.

And for the love of God, dye your hair already. Gray hair in pig tails just doesn't look right.

Have a great day, you dork.

Love,

Dana

I visit the doctor or A post of biblical proportions

My plan was to write about Thursday night and how Beth and I started talking about Trivial Pursuit and that segued into Religious Trivial Pursuit and then Biblical reality shows. Oh, heck, I'll write it anyway.

B: What was Jesus's favorite sitcom as a child?
DM: I have no clue.
B: Three Wisemen and a Baby.
DM: Snort.

Q: What was Mary's favorite song?
A: Like a Virgin.

Q: What was Mary Magdalene's favorite song?
A: Dang it, I don't remember. It wasn't Bitch. I want to say Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch-Me from Rocky Horror Picture Show but I know that wasn't it.

There were sports questions as well but I can't remember them. I don't know why I don't carry a tape recorder around when Beth and I are together. Granted, it would be filled with my snorting all the time and reaching for my inhaler.

DM: That's not my inhaler.
B: No, that's hair spray.

The reality TV shows were very interesting. You should so hear Beth's announcer voice. She is so awesome with it. The plagues of Egypt was hilarious.

B: First there were the frogs. Then there were something (I forgot what the something was)...and then Bob's got to tell poor Timmy he's going to die. Gosh, Timmy, wouldn't it be great if we were Jewish?

I'm sure it wasn't quite like that, it was probably much, much funnier because she is brilliant. There were more but I don't really remember all of them. Help me out here, Beth.

In other news, I had a doctor's appointment on Friday. I have been having some right heel pain and thought it might be Achilles tendinosis. It had been bothering me over the past months whenever I took the trash out or took a cart downstairs (I usually am barefoot whenever possible and it isn't a problem in my apartment because we have the cushiest carpet ever but walking on flatter carpet or concrete hurts). Staying over at Beth's this last weekend, I was pretty much barefoot the entire time, except when we went out. Sunday night, I tried to walk from her dining room table to the couch and ended up doing this hopping, flopping wounded bird walk because I couldn't put my foot down. It was not pleasant.

I also have a problem with my left knee. I wrenched it when Beth and I were in Vegas and it bothers me off and on. The last few months it has been getting worse and will occasionally give me a lot of trouble when I'm trying to stand up. The combination of the two makes me a little cranky and look like an idiot when I'm trying to walk.

I'd been joking about this on Thursday night and made the comment that obviously turning 40 meant that my body was going to fall apart. Then, after trying to understand a conversation between Beth, Sarah and James, I said that maybe I should get my hearing checked.

James: What?
DM: I said 'Maybe I should get my hearing checked.'
James: What?
DM: Rolls her eyes.
James: No, seriously, I didn't hear you.
DM: Maybe I should get my hearing checked.
James: Oh! Ha. That's funny.

Anyway, Friday my brother-in-law Eric picked me up and drove me to the doctor. After waiting awhile (Deb is usually always late for appointments because she is fantastic and a lot of people want to see her) but not caring because I have a book, she comes in and I give her the list of complaints.

I get sent off for an X-ray of my foot. I then hear Deb giggling in the hallway. She comes back in.

Deb: You've got big old heel spurs.

She shows me the X-ray. Oh, yeah, there they are. Great. I get a referral to Podiatry. I am also told I need to go to the hospital for a standing X-ray of my knee because I might have arthritis. And I've also got a referral to have my hearing checked.

DM: Do you think they'll give me a walker?
Deb (laughing): No. You don't want a walker.
DM: Or maybe I could go tooling around in one of those Lark cart thingies. That'd be cool.

Amazingly enough I actually looked forward to turning 40. This is the first birthday that I haven't greeted with depression (thank you, Lord, for creating Effexor and Seraquel). And this is what I'm rewarded with? I'm just waiting for my nose to fall off next.

Ah, humor. If it wasn't for it, I'd be curled into a fetal position and screaming "Damn you, 40! Damn you!" Anyway, I'll see you later. I'm going out to price Hoverounds.

Mom. I'm 40. I can do what I want.

Thank you all for your birthday wishes! I had a great 40th (Johnny, you're only off by one day. Not a big deal. It was Sunday, March 11th). Not at all what I expected. No specter of death hovering over me or the fire department threatening to drown my cake.

Thursday Beth picked me up and we went to karaoke. She picked me up a little bit earlier than usual so we drove around, trying to kill some time. We had the thought "Hey, Dairy Queen would be good" but Dairy Queen was closed. Sigh. Both of the ones we drove by. Granted, it was close to 11 PM but still...

As we're driving along, Beth asks me where we are. Apparently, since we were in Saint Paul, I'm supposed to know my way around the city. Yeah. Like I pay attention.

B: Where are we?
DM: We're coming up to Saint Anthony (street, road, something with pavement). Next one will be Saint...uh...Basil.
B: Basil?
DM: Yes. Patron saint of, um...
B: Spices?
DM: Yes.
B: And the Spice Girls? When people pray to him do they say "I'll tell you what I want, what I really want?"
DM: Absolutely.

To the best of my knowledge, there is not a Saint Basil. I made him up because it was the only "B" name I could think of at the time.

Friday and Saturday we went over to Beth's Mom's house for really good food and rousing games of Trivial Pursuit. I was very disappointed that the one time I was asked a Geography question and did not respond with New Zealand, that the answer was New Zealand. Figures. My football questions are usually answered with Joe Namath, Geography is New Zealand, Presidential questions are Martin Van Buren and the list continues. We had so much fun.

Also on Friday we went to a going away party for a woman Beth works with that I know from my days in the Phone Center at NABABNA. That was enjoyable except for the drunk people that kept singing "Ole ole ole, ole (watch The Replacements and you'll have the exact way they were singing)" over and over and over again. By the end of the night, Beth ended up taking my fork away since she didn't want me to get arrested. It would make celebrating my birthday a little awkward if I was locked up in jail.

Sunday was my birthday and it was filled with excitement. Not only was there the thrill of losing an hour of sleep but there was the added bonus of having to get up early. Joy! We went to see The Gilbert and Sullivan Very Light Opera Company (tradition for Beth, Keem and myself since 2002) with my mom and then to Manny's Steakhouse afterwards.

Here's where it gets interesting.

Before the show starts...

DM: I think I'm going to go have a cigarette outside.
Mom: You sit right down.

She even does the pointing to the bench and the scary Mom look.

DM: Mom. I'm 40. I can do what I want.

After intermission, she didn't come back and we were worried that we had lost her. Turns out that she's been sick over the week and wasn't feeling good. She was lying down somewhere.

Then it was time to go to Manny's. We ended up getting to the restaurant about 45 minutes ahead of time (hey, you have to plan to get lost. That's tradition as well, plus James had to work and 6:30 was about the earliest reservation that would work out for him). We are sitting in the car, listening to Anna Nalick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8vHZfzu9Fk).

Mom: I don't like this music.
DM: And?
B: Okay. Well, in honor of Dana, we'll play her favorite song.

I start giggling. My favorite song is by Medium (Bryan's old band) and is called Ten Feet of Rope. A portion of it pretty much walks you through how to commit suicide by hanging ("Now friends, what you want to do is take about 10 feet of rope") and it makes me laugh every time I hear it. There is no absolute way my Mom is going to enjoy this. But, oddly enough, she doesn't say anything.

A few more songs go by.

DM: This is Bryan, Mom. Our karaoke host and Liz's boyfriend.
Mom: Oh? He sounds like a real singer.

I know this is a compliment but it still confuses me. Well, he's human so of course he's a real singer but I think I know what she means. Mom didn't know that Bryan did have his own band for awhile.

Manny's turned out to be a great time. My steak was perfect, as usual, served with garlic butter and I stole some of Kari's pepper sauce, made with cognac, cream and pepper. It was very good.

After Manny's, Beth and I headed off to karaoke. We got lost. Of course. It never fails. We finally ended up at karaoke around 10:30 and I was happy to see Char and Tom and also Sarah. Char and Tom got me scrapbooking stuff (some of it was pink and orange!)! And a pink notebook! That was great. Liz and James met us later and we had a great time remembering the day and some of the Momisms (Bryan is appreciative that he sounds like a real singer. He made sure to let us know that he stands on real feet. But his legs are fake) that came up (such as the operetta was not only in English, it was in American).

And the best part of this weekend? Other than the gifts and the friends and the great food and the singing and laughing and Trivial Pursuit? I finished my Vegas albums. Beth and I went to Vegas March 14th of 2004. I finished the album on March 12th, 2007. 3 freaking years! Yikes. Next is Portugal but I'm planning on being organized for this. Maybe I'll even post some pages once I complete them.

Hope you all had a great weekend. My very cool older sister Nancy sent me a fluffy frog wearing an orange sweater. Isn't that awesome? I spent my 40th birthday doing several of my favorite things - going to the opera, going to Manny's, scrapbooking, karaoke and spending time with my friends and family. If you have to turn 40, this is the way to do it.

What to do when your roommate knows you way too well

By the way, Patty, no, my teachers didn't ever suggest I be tested for AHDT because I was fairly mellow as a child. Give me a book and I was happy. This is still the case but I will be the first to admit that I suffer from Bright, Shiny Object Syndrome.

So. My roommate, Keem. You all know her or have read of her. Keem and I are very good friends and have been since we met at work six odd years ago. It was one of those moments when you meet someone and think "Huh. It seems like I've known this person for years." I have this habit, when I see someone is reading a book, to pick it up and check it out. I love to read and am constantly searching for new authors. Keem was reading a book by Laurel K Hamilton (about Anita Blake, a bounty hunter who bags vampires, among other monsters - good books but a little too gory for my tastes) and this led to a conversation about Buffy the Vampire Slayer and the relative hotness of Angel and Spike and that was it. There was that click and we've been friends ever since.

I'm not sure how Beth and I became friends. While it was at work, I think it was more gradual, I didn't have a clue who she was until we started working the same shift. We worked downtown Saint Paul and after work we would either go to Perkins with Keem. Or we'd hang out in the parking ramp and listen to music and talk (also with Keem usually). We all loved movies and then we discovered scrapbooking and the fact that we enjoyed road trips and it's suddenly 5ish years later and I can't imagine life without either of them.

Anyway, Keem and I have been roommates for almost 5 years (maybe 6. I don't pay attention to these things) and she is a great roommate. She's a good cook, enjoys cleaning (well, more than I do, at least) and understands that I need structure, even when I complain about said structure.

After all this time, it has got to the point that I cannot keep anything from her. She knows me too well. She says I have a tone and she can tell when I am lying (or rolling my eyes or whining (I prefer "complaining creatively" or anything).

She gave me a cold sore. It's probably my own fault. I knew she had a cold sore but I let her drink out of my water glass on Saturday. Yesterday my very own cold sore popped up on my lip (I hate the little bastards. They are just so irritating).

We are in the car, waiting for it to warm up so we can go home. She is telling me about something that happened on her day. I have turned to face her and my face is somewhat hidden by my jacket collar.

Keem (K): And then the stock owner said this and I said something and...DANA!
DM: What?
K: Stop scratching your cold sore on your zipper!
DM: I'm not!
K: Yeah, right! Don't you lie to me, missy! If you do that, it might spread and then you'll get cold sores on your face!

I pull my lips away from the zipper quickly.

K: I know you too well.

I don't know how she knows these things. But I do know she is going to make a fantastic mother some day. I figure I have provided her with a lot of practice.

I am excited about this weekend. I can't believe that I am actually looking forward to turning 40. It is pretty amazing what the right combination of happy pills and good friends can do for you. This is the first birthday in years that hasn't depressed me incredibly (I had a former "friend" who used to say to me on March 1st every year "Dana, you're going to be 25 (or 26 or whatever). What have you accomplished with your life?" And when I would try to say my life wasn't all that bad, he would come back with all of his accomplishments. Sometimes I kind of wish I could run into him now because a) Beth and Keem HATE him and would kick his ass and b) I gained back a great portion of my self-esteem since he is no longer a part of my life and I would love to tell him off. Or sit back and watch Beth and Keem break him into little pieces and laugh.

Posted mainly because the number of posts I already have kind of freaks me out

Beth will be able to figure out what that number is - I try to avoid it at all costs. An old face from the past (Michael) once told me that the number I avoid isn't actually the true mark of the Beast (for a moment I had Beat there and that made me giggle - Fear the Beat! The Beat is bad!) and I shouldn't really freak out (apparently he was in a seminary for awhile) but hey, lots and lots of conditioning makes me nervous and therefore, I am posting. So there.

You know, what makes me laugh about my fear of the 3 6's is that I frequently say "I may be a Born-Again Christian but I'm not crazy" (referring, of course, to Fundamentalists who scare the crap out of me with their judging and hatred and all - I have a button that says "Just doing my part to piss off the Religious Right") so the fact that I kind of arrange my life around it is amusing. And yes, I do believe God created the world but no, I have no idea what this whole Intelligent Design thing is about. I don't pay attention to the controversy because I also believe that Church and State should be separated. And sometimes, just for fun, I really want to tell people I worship the Flying Spaghetti Monster because he is just so damn cool.

Anyway, enough about religion. On to random facts which are more fun, honestly.

• *It is snowing. Again. I realize that I live in Minnesota but seriously, we need to put some thought into weather control. I am having a hard time waiting for the Star Trek world to come around (and yes, people, I am aware that it was a television show but still, I'm sure if we all put our minds to it we could stop global warming, save the penguins and make a 50 feet radius around me be between 55-75 degrees at all times. I don't think I'm asking too much) so that I don't have to worry about possible blizzards. Fortunately I do live in downtown Saint Paul and that means there are lovely things like snow plows and other people to shovel snow so I don't have to worry about it.
• *Considering that I hate snow (well, hate isn't the right word. I would really enjoy snow a lot more if it wasn't so cold and if I wasn't worried that it would make me fall down and break something), I really enjoy scraping windows on cars. I'm not sure why that is.
• *My sister's work closed. My work is still open. I am not pleased.
• *My Mom is in town. I think the snow storm knows she's been living in Arizona for the past 6? 7? years and doesn't have the Minnesota hardiness anymore and decided to remind her just exactly why she moved to Arizona.
• *Barbecue sauce and chocolate are not bad together. I know this because my brownie flipped over and landed on top of my barbecue weiners that someone made for the food day. I didn't wake up today and say "Hmm, I wonder what odd food combination I can come up with to confuse people with (such as the delicious "cottage cheese on toast (cottage cheese, honey, a little butter and, of course, toast)" or one of my favorite sandwiches - bologna and peanut butter (the bologna keeps the peanut butter from sticking to the roof of your mouth or tearing the bread, the peanut butter keeps you from tasting the bologna (hey, my family was poor, Mom used to buy bologna in bulk. I had to learn to get around it somehow))).
• *Keem uses the words "hence" and "literally" just to drive me crazy. It's working. See following email:

From: Keem

I'm going to send you a different email in a bit...hopefully. Will you forward it to Lindsy? She asked if I had any appetizer ideas for a party this weekend.

Me.

From: DM

You,

I'll be happy to forward it to her. Was there anything else you would need today? Thank you for emailing me.

Me.

From: Keem

Dork,

DORK!!!!!

Me. (not the Dork)

From: DM

Nerd,

Well, duh!

Me (the Dork)

From: Keem

Dork,

You're going to blog this crap, aren't you?

Me (the Nerd)

From: DM

Nerd,

Probably not. I don't blog everything.

Me (the Dork)

From: Keem

Dork,

You blog ALOT. I never know what will end up there. Hence the blueberry story...
Don't take it all so literally though.

Me (the Nerd)

From: DM

Nerd,

I am going to kill you. No more hences! No more literallys! ARGH!

Me (the Dork who is now stabbing her eyes out because she has been henced too many times!)

From: Keem
To: DM

Dork,

I apologize that I cannot turn this email into braille as you are no longer able to see. Perhaps you would like to consider getting some sort of voice program that can read it to you. I sympathize with you, however, I cannot resist using hence and literally when it is applicable.

Me (the Nerd)

From: DM

Nerd,

This may end up being blogged yet.

Me (the Dork)

Who says you can't have fun at work? Well, I was at work (this was yesterday). She took a half day. Dang her. I had to take the bus.

It's still snowing. Just so you know. If you don't hear from me again, that's because I was eaten by snow weasels. Or snow vampires. Something snow related that eats people.

Game Night

About two weeks ago, Beth and I journeyed in the Perfectly Terrible Cruiser over to her mother's house for yummy food (you have to love anyone who makes you steak, fresh green beans, summer corn (she freezes it so she can have summer sweet corn all year round. That's just ingenious. Why have I never thought of this?), baked potatoes and garlic bread (and then says to you, "Oh by the way, I have butter, garlic butter and honey butter for you to take home" (and when you respond "I love you" she replies with "Yeah, I know.")) AND homemade ice cream. With mini chocolate chips).

After stuffing ourselves with incredibly good food, we decided to play Trivial Pursuit. I think everyone has a good Trivial Pursuit story, I know I have several. Such as answering every question about a US president with "Martin Van Buren" just because I like his name. Or trying to remember the name of the author of "Peter Cottontail" and only being able to say, over and over again "Beatrix...Beatrix...damn it, I know this!" and have your English teacher say "Yeah, I'm just impressed you knew her first name but watch the swearing." Or my favorite Trivial Pursuit story about the night the police were called.

But anyway, we are gathered around the table at Laurie's (Beth's mom), the board spread out in front of us and questions started flying. My personal favorite category is brown but I soon realized that this was the 20th Anniversary Trivial Pursuit and brown was not Literature based. Dang it. Beth said that it is more fun to play this game with people who don't know all the answers because the result is hilarious. And she is right.

B: What Mediterranean nation saw an increase in Ostrich farms after Mad Cow disease was discovered?
DM: Um, New Zealand.
B: What Mediterranean nation saw an increase in Ostrich farms after Mad Cow disease was discovered?
DM: Oh! Uh, Greece?
B: No, it's Italy.
DM: I like how you just read the question over again with the emphasis on Mediterranean. Geography is not my strong point.

This was proved over and over again because the stupid blue question - Global View. Grr.

The night continued on, more questions were asked, answers both wrong and right were given and there was a lot of laughter. And that's the best part of playing a game. It doesn't matter who wins or loses, just as long as there is a good time had by all.

But I won. Just so there's no doubt. You know, because I am a winner, baby (and no, I'm not really this obnoxious when I win, I just couldn't resist it).

That Sunday, after visiting Laurie again, Beth thought it would be a good idea to stop at Target to kill some time (we were way too early for karaoke). We ended up in the game aisle and Beth decided to pick up two games, one a Trivial Pursuit game with questions from the 80's and another one called Loaded Questions.

Playing Trivial Pursuit at karaoke is actually a lot of fun. We normally get there early and sometimes on Sundays it is slow. So this gives us time to interact with each other and get Bryan involved as well (we normally ask him the music and movie questions that we didn't get just to see if we can stump him). Liz has started playing with us as well once she comes up. We laugh, we talk, we try to stump one another, we even give hints (that sometimes includes playing charades. Something I'm also not good at) in creative ways - it's an excellent way to increase the greatness that is karaoke at The Chalet.

The other game Beth bought, Loaded Questions, is also fun but it would probably be better with a large group of people. It reminded me of a time in my past that I miss (but also regret as well).

Years ago, I hung out with a girl I met in college, Becky, and also some people we met through out the years. One of them was named Illya (totally cool name) who lived in Minneapolis and we would go over to his place or over to Becky's and play games. One night, we were hanging out at Illya's and decided to play Trivial Pursuit. But instead of going around the board, we just read the questions to each other. It was late, we were making up answers and just started getting sillier and sillier. Suddenly there is a knock on the door. Now it is 3 in the morning, Illya doesn't live in the best part of town (example - at his New Year's Eve party (the one where I decided my New Year's Resolution was to kiss every man in the apartment. Damn, that was a fun party) a random man walked in and started wandering around. There may have been the attempt to sell us drugs. I don't remember much about it but I do know that I did NOT kiss him) so we're a little concerned. Illya checks the peephole and pulls the door open. It is the Minneapolis police.

Police Officer #1 (PO1): What's going on here?
Illya: Uh, we're, uh...
Police Officer #2 (PO2): We got a complaint about the noise. What are you up to?
Illya: Well, I have some...
PO1: Are you going to let us in?
Illya: Sure.

Police Officer 1 and 2 walk into the living room. They see the group of us sitting on the couch, spread out on the floor, etc. On the coffee table is the Trivial Pursuit board. Scattered around it are the overflowing ashtrays (only with cigarettes, thank you very much) and different pop cans.

PO2: What are you all up to?
PO1: Oh, good Lord. You're playing Trivial Pursuit?
Illya: Yes.
PO1: Okay. Well, keep it down. Stop having so much wholesome fun, dang it.*

*No, he didn't say the last sentence. Apparently a neighbor called the cops and waited downstairs to let them in because it was a security building. Granted, it was 3 in the morning but still...

There was another night when we were over at Becky's. We decided to start playing a game where each person would make up a question, every one had to answer and then the person who asked the question had to figure out who said what (this is very similar to Loaded Questions). This is the night that I was compared to an onion (Q: What vegetable would Dana be? A: An onion. There's more to her than what meets the eye. And she's got layers), a romantic porno (I'm not sure how where that came from) and was also called a "Love Bomb" (Illya - "When you meet the right guy, you're just going to explode all over him." Off my look. "In a good way. This is a compliment. I swear.")

I miss that group but if I hadn't ever drifted away from them, I never would have met Beth and Keem and Liz and Bryan and James and Matt and the rest of the Chalet crew. And my life is so much better now.

In other news, did you know that 40 is the new 20? I don't know if that scares me or makes me feel a little better about the fact that I'll be 40 in a few weeks.

So, since I got such a great response on the last question - what games do you like to play? Any favorites?

Easter Rant

Well, technically it is more of an Easter candy rant.

Did you know that Hershey is planning on moving some of their factory work to Mexico? This annoys me and I will need to boycott them. However, since Hershey is probably the only American chocolate that I enjoy, I'll have to wait until they actually move and then I will boycott them. It will be a small boycott because it's just me but still, I'll feel good about it. Until I start missing the Kisses with Almonds. And, hello, Hershey, yes, the coconut creme is good and all but where are the almonds? What were you thinking?

The chocolate I love the most is the Lindt bar with Hazelnuts and Pistachio paste (mmm, yummy) but it is hard to find here. Although I am fond of the Cadbury Fruit and Nut bar. Maybe I'll see if I get a stash of that.

I was wandering down the Target aisle and was complaining about not being able to find black Jelly Beans and then I saw a bag. In my excitement, I didn't notice that the bag said Brach's Black Jelly Bird Eggs. Apparently there is a difference between jelly beans and jelly bird eggs. The only difference that I am noticing is that the jelly bird eggs suck, well, um, eggs, I guess. They are too sweet and too bitter all in one. Grr. Perhaps I'll be able to find anise squares somewhere. Those are the best.

Oh and I am also excited to see that the Saint Paul Pioneer Press will be doing the Peeps Dioramas again this year. These are the best. I can't stand Peeps but I do enjoy websites featuring them.

So what's your favorite Easter candy? Any traditions that your family observes? Do you enjoy Easter eggs with ketchup and a little salt? Or is that just my family?

The way to a girl's heart...well, if she's me.

Yesterday I had peer coaching. This is when a new hire or temp is sent to sit by me so I can tell them all the joys about working here and they listen to me answer calls and maintain a positive attitude, even after being asked "What's my cost basis" forty-three million times. Yesterday's new hire was Mike. Mike is tall and stocky and kind of cute.

I noticed he was wearing a hoodie with the Superman logo on it.

DM: You know, Batman's cooler.

He holds out his wrist. There is his watch. With the Batman logo.

DM: I love you. Well, in a purely platonic way. Because, you know, I just met you.

He laughs.

Later, I am flipping through documents and click on the Star Trek Transcript I am currently reading.

DM: Yeah, this is what I do when it is slow, I read Star Trek Transcripts. Yeah, I'm kind of a geek.
Mike: I really shouldn't say anything since I'm wearing 3 superhero logos.
DM: Whose the 3rd one?

Mike starts to unzip the hoodie. I see green.

DM: Green Lantern?
Mike: Green Lantern.

This leads to a discussion about movies based on comic books.

DM: I love them.
Mike: I do too but there's a few I'm not thrilled with.
DM: Which ones?
Mike: Superman Returns. I didn't like that one much.
DM: What? How is that possible? That was awesome.*

*I am finding that I am using the word "awesome" way too much. Have I suddenly become a Valley Girl without realizing it?**

**I figured it out last night on the way to karaoke). Barney on How I Met Your Mother (portrayed by the incomparable Neil Patrick Harris) says "Awesome" all the time. I'm blaming him. At least I haven't started saying "Legendary." But I'm sure that's next.

He also reveals that he likes Star Wars and I scoff.

DM: I'm not overly fond of Star Wars.
Mike: That's okay. I'm not a big fan of Star Trek. Captain Kirk annoyed me.

And that's when I realized he was not for me. If you dis Kirk, you're history, dude.*

*Because, yeah, that's the best way to decide if you've met your soul mate. Not finding out whether or not he's an axe killer or married or anything like that. Nope. That's too logical.

Hi! Remember me?

Yeah, so I'm a little behind on the blog posts. And the checking of the blogs. I'll get caught up, I promise. Please remember what time of year it is. Do you know? Do you? The time of year that I HATE!

Yes. It is tax season. I hate tax season.

So I have much to tell you, my friends. Let's start with this for my mom who is probably still waiting for an email about the results of the tests that I mentioned in the Pennies From Heaven post.

Mom. Please reread this sentence. Perhaps it will help you know why you haven't heard me mention my tests lately - "Several years ago (2002 to be exact) I had what I refer to as “The Cancer Scare – Act 1 and 2.”" Surprise! I don't have cancer.

I had a great weekend. Spent it over at Beth's. It was a long weekend, starting Thursday and ending this morning at 3 AM (I hate Mondays!). I ran out of my apartment this morning at 6:30 and hopped in the nearest cab. No way was I going to attempt the bus.

This has been my day so far.

3:30 AM Curse the fact that there is only one working phone jack in our entire apartment and it happens to be in my room so the really cool phone we have that allows you to have multiple cordless phones scattered through the apartment has to be plugged in my room and the outlet nearest the phone jack decided to only work in one of those little plug in things (whatever they are called) and that's the one connected directly to the light switch so I had to unplug my lamp and plug the phones in there and now I don't have a light in my room and 0h my God, have you ever tried to set up a CPAP in the dark? Not fun.

6:00 AM Hit the snooze alarm. Go back to bizarre dream where Beth and I are stalking this couple so we can convince them not to break up because they're so fun and happy and we love them and we don't really know them so I'm not really sure who they are (not Bryan and Liz, I'm pretty sure it was Richie and Lina from The Class. Except that Beth doesn't watch The Class with me, Keem does so I'm really surprised that it was Beth stalking the couple with me) and they had this really weird fight where she took her bike onto the elevator and then he was mad at her because there wasn't enough room for his CAR (in his defense it was a one seater and was probably the size of an open umbrella. And it was orange. It kind of looked like an open orange umbrella, now that I think about it, except of course that there are not many umbrellas that have steering wheels. And so Beth and I are following them around and we come across the controversial Bayer aspirin commercial being filmed where Bayer is going to be the First! Ever! Company! to film a commercial using the "F" word. Yeah. The line was "Fuck! I have a headache. But I'm going to take Bayer Aspirin and it will be okay." Hopefully Bayer will not sue me or decide to film this commercial.

I know. I don't understand me either. Beth and I are standing there, begging these people not to break up because they bring us such joy. "Don't panic but we stalk you. But we're not bad stalkers. We're not going to kill you or lock you up in our basement or anything. Neither of us have a basement." I really don't understand why they were so concerned.

6:30 AM Get out of bed. Realize that I do not have time to shower. Decide it doesn't matter that I smell like cigarette smoke from being in bar for hours last night because people pretty much avoid me on Mondays. Apparently I'm a little cranky. I don't know why they think that. I'm sure it is normal to snarl at people when they are perky. Talk to Keem for a little bit about the fact that she completely SUCKS and is not going to work because she has jury duty.

6:45 AM Stare at cab driver in disbelief as he drives past convenience store I told him I needed to stop at. Disbelief doubles when he pulls into small gas station. What did he not understand about the conversation? What?

DM: I need to stop at the convenenience store on the way.
CD: Okay. Which one?
DM: I don't know the name but it is on the left side of the road.

The small gas station is neither convenient OR on the left side of the road. It is on the right side! And they do not have breakfast like food (or even lunch like food because I have been known to eat hamburgers for breakfast). They have Mountain Dew (thank God). And a lot of
Cheetos. But Cheetos Puffs or Cheetos Flaming Hot! Not the regular Cheetos that I like.

7 AM: Listen to voice mails. All 16+. I had a broker leave me approximately 15 voice mails. All asking me the same thing. If I don't call you, maybe it is because I'm not able to call you. Leaving me a voice mail every 15 minutes will not make me call you any faster!

Anyway, I have real posts to write but not a lot of time right now. Maybe later. Hope you're all well.

Oh, I leave you with this. I fell in love this weekend. Her name is Zoe. And she's pink and pretty and I would marry her. Well, if she wasn't a camera. Yes. I named my camera. What's your point?