What a groupie.

Bill Lumbergh is ready to spawn, and I think it may be with the Muppet Sgt. Floyd Pepper. For the last several days, Bill has created an "elaborate" nest of bubbles up in the right-hand corner of his office, which means, apparently, that he's horny. Which is, you know, sort of too bad for him, because I don't foresee any lady Bettas dropping by for a quick meeting any time soon.

We were trying to figure out why that corner in particular, because it's always that corner, and I have a theory that he's in love with one of band members in Electric Mayhem, who all sit directly behind the office. I know it's not Janice, because he is way scared of her, backpedaling (backstroking?) frantically any time she comes near his space. It has to be the lips. I would be scared, too.

So I think it's Sgt. Floyd. I don't know, it's just a guess--I'm thinking Bill digs his fashion sense. We're doing a little experiment where Sgt. Floyd will sit on the other side of the office until the next cleaning, and see if the bubble nest is relocated. Next I'll try Zoot, and then Dr. Teeth. We'll see what happens. Any wagers?

Worst. Made. EVER.

Did anyone see "Made" this week on MTV with Nadia? It was like, the most poorly pieced-together "Made" I've ever seen. I sort of love that show, even though a lot of times it makes me cringe watching geeky white boys trying to become rappers, or lacrosse players trying to become salsa dancers, or band geeks and softball chicks trying to become cheerleaders. I can relate to the inner geek in a lot of these kids, and even though a lot of them "don't make the dance squad" or whatever else it is, they usually grow from the experience, and that's cool. Whatever. It's not the best show in the world, but it makes me feel all bright and shiny inside.

Anyway, the thing with Nadia is that the editing plain sucked. This girl was super-super shy, always hiding in the back and giggling to cover up the fact that she was massively insecure, but she actually did have this amazing singing voice. She wanted to enter and win her high school's annual singing competition, which is called "Central Idol." And she did make it into the show, which only takes like, 10 people, and she did sing "Lady Marmalade" in front of masses and masses of people, complete with a semi-hooch outfit. So she grew, ending up with way more confidence in herself than the beginning.

But did she win the contest? We don't know. How did she place? They didn't say. How did she actually do in front of the audience--not clear. They showed like these tiny bits and pieces of the performance, but it was extremely hard to get a handle on whether she actually rocked it or not. It seems like she did...but we don't really know. They didn't show too much of her singing throughout the show, and I just figured it was because she was practicing that one song, and they were saving it all for the end to blow away the viewing audience with her progress. But no. And what did her parents think? We don't know. They showed an Asian couple for about 1 millisecond sitting stoically in the auditorium audience during Nadia's song, but we don't actually know if these were her parents. And I can understand they may just not want to have been part of the episode--I cannot imagine my own parents (well, much less me) agreeing to appear on reality TV. That's fine, but why all the other cutting? Why not even say whether she won or not? No payoff, man. It would be like reading any "Harry Potter," but having JK clip out the final confrontation with Voldemort and cut to Harry boarding the Hogwarts Express for the summer. (Actually, I just gave "Made" way too much credit there, bringing in Harry. I should have been appropriately vapid in my comparison-drawing.)

Percentages

Everyonceandawhile I become fixated on lineage. I'm not a daughter of the revolution, unfortunately, but we do go back to the 1800's and probably a bit further back then that in the good ole US of A. And curiously enough, multiple members of bothsides of my families are just as obsessed or more so with history than i am.
how very lucky am i. that i have 2 or 3 literal books of family history. And to know minu'te percentages of your ethnic make-up has got to be a bit strange, when people say mutt, i say yes, but i know what sort of mutt i am. and i'm a good mutt with a penchant for landowners and farming. I have a couple %'s to research still but currently I'm: 25% Latvian, 25% German, 12.5% Danish, 12.5% Basque, 6.25% Slavic?, 6.25% Bohemian, and then a TBD 12.5% on my dad's side of the family... which could just be more basque and possibly french, but that would require me looking for the history book. nice. Anyway this all came up, as my non-specified friends or NSF's, have to hear way too much about, over the last 2 years-i have been assembling uber-albums of my grandmother's photographs. 3. One for me/my mom, my brother, and my aunt. I'm on #2 and in the early '80's. We're talking acid-free black cardstock, gluesticks and fancy photo corners- complete with a yet to be determined cover. This is not scrapbooking- this is serious historical documentation. and when i think of reducing my 12 or so albums to such a project i wonder how brutal with the cuts i would have to be. but regardless it's been fun to learn about so and so coming over when they were 19 and falling in love with x and then re-marrying, y. or disappearing after the civilwar, and moving here and there and getting quelched in the depression, or how my one grand uncle came home with lots of USN (navy) silverware from the boat, which we may or may not have... along with the costume jewerly and now 100 year old photographs. i am exceedingly lucky. and it makes me remember how very cool history as a story can be. well, the death and dismemberment aside-- but that's life right?

Title it Up or Travel to?

hey blog-verse, how goes the struggle. current meanderings...

I've applied to a bookstore for seasonal hire now that the season is almost over and have taken to calling central casting right before winter hiatus. yes! my timing rocks! that or i'm being super passive aggressive. i don't know. maybe i'm just getting a headstart on '06. it's possible. i still "might" be able to cover my bills too. "might"...

my boss has been on a retreat at a monastary- aka monastic retreat? well today he's back and ready to work. i don't think it'll make up for the 2 wks i wasn't working but hey, that's my fault for not having another job, and he can go frolic and live the dream without me. i can't fault him for that, and vow to blog about him more in the new year- now that i believe he's forgotten about the blog and his guard is down. i tested this theory a while ago and dared to show him a picture on the blog and he said, is that what color it's always been? yes, not a frequent checker- and if he doesn't have us book marked, a search wont take him to the current page. muhahahaha. (yes, i have little thrills at the moment.)

a friend of mine (crazy, not like a friend of someone elses- as in non-specified, okay it's callie. sorry callie.) was complaining about lack of travel and yes i've complained about it before- i'm going to complain again. i realize the problem is much deeper than just not being able to travel bcs i'm a lazy hack with no money- but that i've been traveling consecutively since '94. with only a brief hiatus in '95, '97 and '98 respectively. those were those crazy college years when i vowed to take a semester overseas and alas to my deep regret, never did. and it's been non-stop ever since this year. don't you think my body sort of craves flight at this point? i mean it has to be. and i have no outoftown family to hop on a plane for. this sucks. i suggest all those with wunderlust go now, before it's too late.

and if you've managed to not zone out on this post- please do chime in and tell me where i ought to go '06 for my 30th birthday... suicide not an option, and that redchip on my hand has been blinking since i was born, so.

Egad, Brain, it's brilliant!

I don't know why this didn't occur to me before, but I have finally figured out how to put on my socks in the morning. It's so simple, so obvious--rather than bending over from a sitting position on the bed, or rolling backward on the bed with feet up in the air, all you have to do is sit down on the bed and cross one leg man-style over the other, leaving the foot in close, comfortable range for sock adorment. There's no grunting, no shooting pains, no gasping for breath. Limited baby-squishing. Look out, world. My next career move may be Rocket Science.

Veruca Salt

As I blog I'm watching the '71 version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, which really makes me long for the 70's swedish version of Pippi Longstocking. Sigh. We'll see how much blogging I manage to do with this playing in front of me. Since my dvd player is broken I'm playing it off the computer. MMM. i love technology. of course you can't tell that just now i took a good 5 minute break. plucked a couple chin hairs- which are horrible. I once got into an argument with a guy about hair- and while he was very greek and very hairy... which granted was too hairy, he was very handsome- i proceeded to explain to him that hair on men is much more acceptable. i mean if you examine my eyebrows you can just imagine the trouble i have shaving my legs- and now or rather for a long while chin hair. it's horrid. i really probably would have that laser surgery, then my compulsive chin plucking energy would be able to go somewhere else. somewhere not involving contemplating folic roots and the sturdiness of my horrid, horrid chin hair. but i digress on the basis of possible oversharing. although you must admit. it is fascinating.

the other day the cat jumped on my lap and i just wondered how is it that cats exist. granted much more fascinating than how and why is it we have hair and how when i'm 80, unmarried and slightly senile, the stereotype that i will become if I don't quelch my body's instinct, is rather unspeakable.

my favorite words this week are: bogus which has been inuse, believe it or not, since the 1800's! and referred to a coin counterfiting machine. hence, that is bogus and the other is sincere- i do believe this version of WW: CCF is more "sincere" and has more "heart"... I had the same thoughts about Nightmare Before Christmas and Corpse Bride. But onward...

"stop. don't."

who me?

Save Ferris

(i never got to take the bus.)

i was also contemplating adding my perspective on highschool, which is radically different from Pen's, due to location, type of school, and obvious personality issues. Hey Pen? would we have been friends in high school? I have to know your opinion. My answer is yes, but not close friends. I don't think I had any better fashion sense, but alas that was the 80's and my mom refused to get me things that would marry me solidly into that generation- like perms or feathered hair. I do remember one girl saying, I don't like that color eyeshadow on you- which okay, but i was like? why are you telling me this...I think her name was Barbara. and this memory is oddly tied into my question of where to sit in the vast outdoor eating area we had at school. i would float around but never quite fit in anywhere. Into highschool i hung out with drama kids, which were a motley assortment of the popular and studious to the studious and socially strained. But as a hinge I was also in Volleyball and did AP English and conversely had the rest of my classes with the social non-studious misfits, who were also the popular people (bcs I secretly believe that I was classified as unintelligent in primary school and was navigated into these sorts of classes in my k-12 school) and bcs of even stranger circumstances like my counselor forcing me to take accounting and business principles in 9th grade i was also friends with upper classmen. Really, I had by circumstance navigated myself into having the most diverse experience imaginable. And though I'm sure my weight and general militant attitude caused other things I was fairly untouchable- and was not even mock worthy for hanging out with the English Teacher during lunch and reading morose poetry, Or at least I never heard about it. Plus by sheer will I had a way of looking at people that defines judgement and words like conviction, not entirely pleasant and couple that with my wry smile and i know people thought i smoked, and drank vodka during the day and was a general troublemaker that knew what other troublemakers were doing... I think I'll definitely have to write about the weirdness and pain of highschool someday. Part of me thinks I'm making this up and that silver lining was being painted on by me from the beginning but... I had a good time, but converesely I didn't. But critically I was myself and didn't ever work hard to fit in anywhere, and I spent entirely too much time watching people and Tv. And well, 2 things I never got to do was, go to a boarding school, and go away to camp for the entire summer. Alas. For another blog. Another day. I've got to figure out what's for dinner.

(Ferris : It's not that I condone facism, or any isms for that matter. Isms in my opinion are not good. A person should not believe in an ism he should believe in himself.)

Cue Elton John: It's the Circle of Life

With all of my organs getting squished and displaced upward, I feel nauseated a lot, and all I really feel like eating is chocolate. And apples, and sometimes french fries, but mostly chocolate. It seems pointless to fill my stomach with anything else, since that's all I really want. Every once in a while, I start to feel guilty, imagining that all I'm going to be eating for my last two months of pregnancy is chocolate, and how will that affect my baby. Because everyone these days is all about eating healthy, and thinking about how each bite will affect your baby's development, yadda yadda yadda. Blah blah blah. Then all of a sudden it occurs to me that my mom ate a bunch of chocolate when she was pregnant with me, and I turned out...well, I apparently turned out to be a girl who eats a bunch of chocolate when she's pregnant. Ha.

Product of the Week (Like Today's Secret Word, You Must Jump Up & Down & Yell)

Notification Cards

This is like, the coolest thing ever. Christmas-list worthy.

breakthrough?

Besides hating haircuts, something else I'm suddenly and randomly Strongly Opinionated about is not liking certain people, and realizing that it could in fact be Them, and Not Me. It's another one of those things I probably felt or had an opinion about all along, but was too afraid to admit it. I used to, way back in my horridly dorky junior high days, and on into high school, say I didn't actually "hate" anyone, and that may even still be true--if you dislike someone that much, why waste the energy? I mean, I'll say I "hate" a person, just because it's fun sometimes, like I HATE Ana Lucia on Lost, I really do. But I don't really mean it. However, I'm at the point now where I can honestly look at a person and say, you know, I genuinely don't like him or her.

Am I bragging? No. It's just that I used to be such a wuss about admitting these things--I was all like, I am sooo not stuck-up, people, in fact I may be the least stuck-up person on the planet because rather than thinking I'm better than everyone, I have little or no self-esteem at all. No one believed me, because I didn't talk much, and when you don't talk much, people assume you're thinking bad thoughts about them. Even if you have a simultaneous mullet and bad perm along with braces, red licorice glasses, and extremely bad fashion sense. In fact, these people tend to hate you even more, thinking that a loser such as yourself has absolutely no reason to look down on anyone else.

The mullet and the braces and the glasses only lasted around two years, through most of seventh and eighth grade, but this Period of Serious Nerdom laid the foundation for the Doormat Approach to Social Behavior that followed and persisted through the years. First it was, so-and-so doesn't like me, wonder what I did to piss them off? Then it was, maybe if I'm real real nice to them all the time, they'll change their mind. Then it was like, well, if they're not going to be nice, at least I can be all upbeat when I talk to them, and maybe they'll pick up on it and match my tone. Mostly I'm talking about the people who were "cooler" than me--the actual Cool People in high school, then the people in college who seemed to have their whole lives together, and now the people at work and in life who seem like, way more adult than I am. Regardless of having a husband, house, and baby on the way, I feel massively immature, or kid-like, most of the time. With my fish named Bill Lumbergh, my affinity for the Muppets that has never flagged, the way I look, act, talk, dress. I just come off as younger, somehow.

But it's occurring to me that
a) I really don't care--that's just me. I like the Muppets, and will continue to like the Muppets when I'm in my 30s, 40s, 50s, etc. Dammit. I'll continue to be quiet and reserved in most social situations, I'll sing goofy little songs that make absolutely no sense to my dogs and--I'm sure--my child. I may even watch the WB for the next few decades, who knows.
b) Some people are just bitches. They were too cool for high school, and years later they continue to act as though their legend still exists. They look at you funny, or they deliberately ignore you, or no matter how nice you are, they're absolutely rude and stilted in any conversation that you do end up having with them--a behavior which is, in fact, socially retarded.

Just come up to my desk and stand there with a sour, imposing look on your face and then jump right into whatever it is I've done wrong with no prelude. Go ahead.

I'll let Grace from Ferris Bueller say it:


"What a little asshole."