Just went to the dentist. No cavities. Yay me.
Comment made: "Your brushing is good." (yeah, I only floss occasionally)
Because back in the day, I would have to sit for four hours in a dental chair at U of M . . . and there was the torturous (well, all of it was torture) "eat the pink candies and let's see where you missed". An exercise that was repeated until you "got it right" or your gums were bleeding so they couldn't see anymore. AND then you got to sit in the chair while they poked at you for four hours . . . and then there was the retrieving of the instructor to see what they missed. And that's if you didn't have a problem . . . like a cavity.
So I learned very quickly NOT to have cavities. Because student dentists never use enough novocaine and there is no gas in the U of M pediatric dental section. And they slip a lot . . . which means the drill? It goes into your gum. Or your cheek. Or another tooth. "Oops" they would say sheepishly. And they always assumed that you could not understand English. Even though I was eight, I could tell when someone was messing up, and I could certainly understand the instructor. And what they said to the instructor.
And now, as an adult, I just went to a dental office with a television that they move so you can watch. There are paraffin dips for your hands and ultrasonic tools so they don't have to scrape forever. Sure, it's still hurt like a b**ch. But it only took a half an hour. I didn't even figure out what was going on with the show I was watching. (something called Project Runway . . . and I know, I'm the only person in the world who hasn't bothered to watch it) I bet ya they'll even let me listen to my ipod if I ask them next time. Woo hoo! Will the wonders of modern dentistry ever cease?
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Showing posts with label television. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 19, 2008
Friday, February 01, 2008
Dildo Factory
So let's start with the "and in the second episode there's this dildo factory" story.
M2 has a student teacher.
One would think that as a regular employed teacher, you would be overjoyed with a student teacher. Hey! Someone is going to come in and do all my work for me? And I still get paid? Sign me up! But M2 . . . I love her . . . well, there's really two factors at play. First, M2 has the WORST luck in student teachers. It's like the fates want her to weed them out or something. And this time, she even tried to compensate by asking to interview the person first . . . and the person just showed up anyway. And she is this meek, mousey thing who does not talk and looks terrified most of the time. Like that mouse that the kids always trap in the yearbook room (We have sort of a vermin problem. I prefer to think of him as a pet) who just wakes and then expels everything from his bowels and then dies of heart failure to avoid whatever this circle of teenagers is going to do to him.
So the second factor is that M2 is a really good teacher . . . with a strong personality . . . and . . . again, with the "I really, really love her" . . . she is a bit of a control freak. We all are. Well, anyone that lasts in this profession. So it's really hard for her to give up her classroom to someone who may lose all the control that she has gain. To let things dissolve into anarchy to prove to this person that she probably shouldn't be a high school teacher. Or should be . . . I don't know.
So M2 and the ST share a table at parent teacher conferences . . . and M2 and I plan to go out to dinner . . .
(Side story: The teachers like to go out in big groups for dinner. Which makes me anxious. For the restaurant who suddenly will have a table of 25, all of whom want separate checks. For myself, because I like to be on time and we don't have a lot of time and the waitress is taking 45 minutes to print up all of the checks. And frankly, for the general public, because teachers are really obnoxious when they get in groups. So I don't go with the "kids" for dinner. And it's a big problem. But M2 is kind enough to join me and go to a restaurant far away from the large groups. So yes, I socially isolate myself. So I won't be anxious. And for the record, I check and no, you weren't on time for the second session. No one cared. But I do.)
and there is the ST at the table, so we have to take her along.
She says maybe three words during dinner and doesn't have enough cash, which is cool because I don't have any cash either and I make way more money than she does, as she makes nothing. And on the way back, I kinda forget that she is in the backseat . . . because she is silent . . . and M2 is telling the story about how she had to take this compatiblity test to get married in the Catholic Church and some of the more tricky "yes" "no" questions . . . like "pregnancy is a big part of our relationship" (well, it isn't NOW but is it supposed to be later? According to the Catholics?) and so then I start talking about my new favorite show, Lucy, Daughter of the Devil and I had just watched the second episode, where Satan buys a dildo factory and Lucy wants to become a dildo designer but that grosses her father out.
"Did you have to bring up dildo factories in front of my student teacher? Are you trying to convince her that teachers are crazy?" Mary says after we get out of the car and the ST is out of earshot. Oops. I was just taking about television. It was on cable. So now the mouse is probably going to have to go to therapy. Or at least bring it up in those student teacher sessions when they talk about how all the old teachers are too old and their brains have been turned to mush by close contact with teenagers. I remember that discussion. It always ends with a group feeling that "we are going to be different".
Oh and the "holding dirty hands" is from this episode. Hilarious. About 1 minute, 52 seconds in . . .
"Look at all the people holding hands . . . holding hands around the world . . .
it's making me want to go wash my hands . . . dirty hands around the world . . . yeah . . ."
M2 has a student teacher.
One would think that as a regular employed teacher, you would be overjoyed with a student teacher. Hey! Someone is going to come in and do all my work for me? And I still get paid? Sign me up! But M2 . . . I love her . . . well, there's really two factors at play. First, M2 has the WORST luck in student teachers. It's like the fates want her to weed them out or something. And this time, she even tried to compensate by asking to interview the person first . . . and the person just showed up anyway. And she is this meek, mousey thing who does not talk and looks terrified most of the time. Like that mouse that the kids always trap in the yearbook room (We have sort of a vermin problem. I prefer to think of him as a pet) who just wakes and then expels everything from his bowels and then dies of heart failure to avoid whatever this circle of teenagers is going to do to him.
So the second factor is that M2 is a really good teacher . . . with a strong personality . . . and . . . again, with the "I really, really love her" . . . she is a bit of a control freak. We all are. Well, anyone that lasts in this profession. So it's really hard for her to give up her classroom to someone who may lose all the control that she has gain. To let things dissolve into anarchy to prove to this person that she probably shouldn't be a high school teacher. Or should be . . . I don't know.
So M2 and the ST share a table at parent teacher conferences . . . and M2 and I plan to go out to dinner . . .
(Side story: The teachers like to go out in big groups for dinner. Which makes me anxious. For the restaurant who suddenly will have a table of 25, all of whom want separate checks. For myself, because I like to be on time and we don't have a lot of time and the waitress is taking 45 minutes to print up all of the checks. And frankly, for the general public, because teachers are really obnoxious when they get in groups. So I don't go with the "kids" for dinner. And it's a big problem. But M2 is kind enough to join me and go to a restaurant far away from the large groups. So yes, I socially isolate myself. So I won't be anxious. And for the record, I check and no, you weren't on time for the second session. No one cared. But I do.)
and there is the ST at the table, so we have to take her along.
She says maybe three words during dinner and doesn't have enough cash, which is cool because I don't have any cash either and I make way more money than she does, as she makes nothing. And on the way back, I kinda forget that she is in the backseat . . . because she is silent . . . and M2 is telling the story about how she had to take this compatiblity test to get married in the Catholic Church and some of the more tricky "yes" "no" questions . . . like "pregnancy is a big part of our relationship" (well, it isn't NOW but is it supposed to be later? According to the Catholics?) and so then I start talking about my new favorite show, Lucy, Daughter of the Devil and I had just watched the second episode, where Satan buys a dildo factory and Lucy wants to become a dildo designer but that grosses her father out.
"Did you have to bring up dildo factories in front of my student teacher? Are you trying to convince her that teachers are crazy?" Mary says after we get out of the car and the ST is out of earshot. Oops. I was just taking about television. It was on cable. So now the mouse is probably going to have to go to therapy. Or at least bring it up in those student teacher sessions when they talk about how all the old teachers are too old and their brains have been turned to mush by close contact with teenagers. I remember that discussion. It always ends with a group feeling that "we are going to be different".
Oh and the "holding dirty hands" is from this episode. Hilarious. About 1 minute, 52 seconds in . . .
"Look at all the people holding hands . . . holding hands around the world . . .
it's making me want to go wash my hands . . . dirty hands around the world . . . yeah . . ."
Monday, November 12, 2007
Just the Right Amount of Gangley
Just as soon as I recover from this pestilence . . .
I would like to date Ned the Pieman.
Perfect amount of slouchy, plus the shoes, plus the vocab . . . just way too cute, indeed.
And I want to be Olive in my next life. Either that, or just have her wardrobe.
More on the pestilence later.
I would like to date Ned the Pieman.
Perfect amount of slouchy, plus the shoes, plus the vocab . . . just way too cute, indeed.
And I want to be Olive in my next life. Either that, or just have her wardrobe.
More on the pestilence later.
Thursday, November 01, 2007
Best Line Ever
On Pushing Daisies, a show that I have never watched before:
"Still looking for a man Olive? . . . Because if your belly was full of fish, you wouldn't have to put out so much bait." (looks at cleavage)
It was the only funny line . . . but it was a doozy. Can totally picture my mother saying it. And thought about it as I was dressing for a date, which has now been cancelled. So more fun for me. Think I'll go to the yarn store and then go to bed early. Yay. I love these dates.
(No, seriously . . . I'm not being sarcastic. If I hadn't had a date, I would have stay at school. Now I have time on my hands and can wander aimlessly about. One of my favorite things to do. I might even go to the record store.)
"Still looking for a man Olive? . . . Because if your belly was full of fish, you wouldn't have to put out so much bait." (looks at cleavage)
It was the only funny line . . . but it was a doozy. Can totally picture my mother saying it. And thought about it as I was dressing for a date, which has now been cancelled. So more fun for me. Think I'll go to the yarn store and then go to bed early. Yay. I love these dates.
(No, seriously . . . I'm not being sarcastic. If I hadn't had a date, I would have stay at school. Now I have time on my hands and can wander aimlessly about. One of my favorite things to do. I might even go to the record store.)
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Ummm. . . Go Blue?
I was careful. I only had two bloody mary's. One of which had gotten pickle juice on a program. And they are serious about their programs (I mean who buys programs?). So I was on edge about that.
There were pancakes and sausage . . . cooked on a grill. At we started drinking at 9 a.m.. But when in Rome. There were interview in front of the car for the BigTen Network. (I might be in the background of Friday Night Tailgate) The car is like a big tourist thing. Her family owns the "Michigan Beetle" and parks it next to the stadium. (I thought there would be a picture on the web, but evidently there are a lot of beetles in Michigan that are actually insects)
The seats were awesome. Michigan stadium has 72 rows below the entrance. And then there is row B and row A. We were in row B between the 40 and the 35. Close enough to see the players sweat. Close enough to hear the coaches talking.
It was hot. And they were playing Appalachian State. So it was assumed to be an "easy game". Like playing Michigan State.
But it wasn't an easy game.
Princess left me during the fourth quarter, to go set up the tailgate again. So I watched the upset alone. And I got wrapped up in the football. Not who was playing . . . just the game. And I cheered and yelled.
Michigan fans are very different than Michigan State fans. Michigan State fans are used to losing. It's just a game. We drink. We watch. If we lose . . . so what? So more about fun. Because we used to losing.
And I haven't been to a game in a long time. So it was hard to adjust to cutthroat die hard fans. Fans who "boo" their own team if they make a bad play. Fans who are cranky when they are not winning. Cause Michigan State fans would have to be cranky most of the time . . . unless they were watching basketball.
And I have to say . . . because less people will yell at me here, in this blog . . . ASU played better ball. It wasn't good luck. They played a better game.
As I was walking out of the stadium, alone, I congratulated every Appalachian fan I saw. Why not? They were so excited. This had made their year. Heck, made their next two years. They had beat one of the best teams in the nation. On that team's turf. And they reminded me of how insanely excited Michigan State fans get when we somehow win against Michigan. There is that half an hour of shock . . . and then just pure honest exuberance.
To their credit, every Appalachian fan I congratulated looked at me funny. And then I realized I had a Michigan shirt on. But I felt like the representative of the State of Michigan. We could be gracious. We could be good losers in this state. We could appreciate a good game.
Even if we did have on the wrong shirt. (smile)
(I would like to thank Princess and her family for having me. Their hospitality was overwhelming and they always make me feel welcome at their family events. And I'm sorry about the game.)
(Oh, and it's Princess's birthday . . . I think on Tuesday. Send her gifts.)
There were pancakes and sausage . . . cooked on a grill. At we started drinking at 9 a.m.. But when in Rome. There were interview in front of the car for the BigTen Network. (I might be in the background of Friday Night Tailgate) The car is like a big tourist thing. Her family owns the "Michigan Beetle" and parks it next to the stadium. (I thought there would be a picture on the web, but evidently there are a lot of beetles in Michigan that are actually insects)
The seats were awesome. Michigan stadium has 72 rows below the entrance. And then there is row B and row A. We were in row B between the 40 and the 35. Close enough to see the players sweat. Close enough to hear the coaches talking.
It was hot. And they were playing Appalachian State. So it was assumed to be an "easy game". Like playing Michigan State.
But it wasn't an easy game.
Princess left me during the fourth quarter, to go set up the tailgate again. So I watched the upset alone. And I got wrapped up in the football. Not who was playing . . . just the game. And I cheered and yelled.
Michigan fans are very different than Michigan State fans. Michigan State fans are used to losing. It's just a game. We drink. We watch. If we lose . . . so what? So more about fun. Because we used to losing.
And I haven't been to a game in a long time. So it was hard to adjust to cutthroat die hard fans. Fans who "boo" their own team if they make a bad play. Fans who are cranky when they are not winning. Cause Michigan State fans would have to be cranky most of the time . . . unless they were watching basketball.
And I have to say . . . because less people will yell at me here, in this blog . . . ASU played better ball. It wasn't good luck. They played a better game.
As I was walking out of the stadium, alone, I congratulated every Appalachian fan I saw. Why not? They were so excited. This had made their year. Heck, made their next two years. They had beat one of the best teams in the nation. On that team's turf. And they reminded me of how insanely excited Michigan State fans get when we somehow win against Michigan. There is that half an hour of shock . . . and then just pure honest exuberance.
To their credit, every Appalachian fan I congratulated looked at me funny. And then I realized I had a Michigan shirt on. But I felt like the representative of the State of Michigan. We could be gracious. We could be good losers in this state. We could appreciate a good game.
Even if we did have on the wrong shirt. (smile)
(I would like to thank Princess and her family for having me. Their hospitality was overwhelming and they always make me feel welcome at their family events. And I'm sorry about the game.)
(Oh, and it's Princess's birthday . . . I think on Tuesday. Send her gifts.)
Monday, August 20, 2007
Disappointment and Future Regret
My brother and nephew were over on Saturday and we were mostly napping as they had just walked the "death march" my father likes to do during the Woodward Cruise. Napping and listening to NPR.
I download the podcasts of This American Life. So my brother and I were listening to this one (Act III, My Other Dog is a German Shepard), which brought up a show on the Disney Channel.
"The Suite Life with Zack and Cody? Yeah. I watch that show." my nephew says.
The radio show had not been kind about The Suite Life with Z and C.
"Really? You watch that show, huh? When is it on?" my brother asks.
"Probably on right now." my nephew replies.
We turn on the television and change it to the Disney Channel.
Now the Disney Channel was a big part of Dave and my youth . . . part of the reason we have seen every flavor of "Witch Mountain" movie. Escape to . . . Return to . . . Snowboard off of . . . Oh, and the "Apple Dumplin' Gang". Dave watched that movie over and over. The Disney Channel of our youth was old Mickey Mouse cartoons and Disney movies from the fifties and sixties. A might bit brain rotting, but nothing serious. If anything . . . campy.
Currently on the Disney Channel? "Hannah Montana". My brother and I tried to get through an entire episode without throwing up. Hannah Montana is about Billy Ray Cyrus' little girl, who is a star singer. A pop tart low rent version of Brittney Spears. If there could be such a thing. And although portrayed as wholesome . . . at one point the girl was on the floor in a maxi-mini and I swear I saw up her skirt. Basically, the writing was insultingly dumb with a message at the end, of course. The girls were dressed like . . . well . . . 25 year old whores, even though they were supposed to be 14 or 15. Oh, and there was a large dose of sexual innuendo. Hannah, the main character, is upset that her bodyguard keeps chaperoning her dates with an older boy because, and I quote, "a girl has needs . . ."
This is on the Disney Channel. THE DISNEY CHANNEL. And Dave had never watched it . . . because it was on the Disney Channel, and you trust Disney . . . it's supposed to be Escape from Witch Mountain and Tron. Not a horny, pop tart with a badly played southern accent. No wonder my high schoolers are so warped. They've probably been watching the Disney Channel since they were three, which is why they think it's okay to preform oral sex during science class . . . when they are thirteen. And I guess I could argue that it's a show for high schoolers. It is set in a high school. But what teenager watches The Disney Channel?
Z got really pissed at us for telling him that he couldn't watch "Hannah Montana" anymore. And while I understand his point of view (not his fault that his adults didn't preview The Disney Channel and now he's all into the character development) personally, the Disney Channel is off the list at my house. I may set the parental controls and everything. And yes, I know that sexual innuendo is everywhere, but bad writing and poor stereotypes with a smidge of "girls are just playthings" is not.
Later, as we were watching Surviorman, in an attempt to ease the brain swelling, there was a commercial for silver coins. Evidently, I should buy a 19 dollar silver coin to "avoid disappointment and future regret". I think they were talking about me regretting not buying the nifty coin . . . but boy, I would love avoiding disappointment and future regret for only one payment of $19,95. Sign me up.
I download the podcasts of This American Life. So my brother and I were listening to this one (Act III, My Other Dog is a German Shepard), which brought up a show on the Disney Channel.
"The Suite Life with Zack and Cody? Yeah. I watch that show." my nephew says.
The radio show had not been kind about The Suite Life with Z and C.
"Really? You watch that show, huh? When is it on?" my brother asks.
"Probably on right now." my nephew replies.
We turn on the television and change it to the Disney Channel.
Now the Disney Channel was a big part of Dave and my youth . . . part of the reason we have seen every flavor of "Witch Mountain" movie. Escape to . . . Return to . . . Snowboard off of . . . Oh, and the "Apple Dumplin' Gang". Dave watched that movie over and over. The Disney Channel of our youth was old Mickey Mouse cartoons and Disney movies from the fifties and sixties. A might bit brain rotting, but nothing serious. If anything . . . campy.
Currently on the Disney Channel? "Hannah Montana". My brother and I tried to get through an entire episode without throwing up. Hannah Montana is about Billy Ray Cyrus' little girl, who is a star singer. A pop tart low rent version of Brittney Spears. If there could be such a thing. And although portrayed as wholesome . . . at one point the girl was on the floor in a maxi-mini and I swear I saw up her skirt. Basically, the writing was insultingly dumb with a message at the end, of course. The girls were dressed like . . . well . . . 25 year old whores, even though they were supposed to be 14 or 15. Oh, and there was a large dose of sexual innuendo. Hannah, the main character, is upset that her bodyguard keeps chaperoning her dates with an older boy because, and I quote, "a girl has needs . . ."
This is on the Disney Channel. THE DISNEY CHANNEL. And Dave had never watched it . . . because it was on the Disney Channel, and you trust Disney . . . it's supposed to be Escape from Witch Mountain and Tron. Not a horny, pop tart with a badly played southern accent. No wonder my high schoolers are so warped. They've probably been watching the Disney Channel since they were three, which is why they think it's okay to preform oral sex during science class . . . when they are thirteen. And I guess I could argue that it's a show for high schoolers. It is set in a high school. But what teenager watches The Disney Channel?
Z got really pissed at us for telling him that he couldn't watch "Hannah Montana" anymore. And while I understand his point of view (not his fault that his adults didn't preview The Disney Channel and now he's all into the character development) personally, the Disney Channel is off the list at my house. I may set the parental controls and everything. And yes, I know that sexual innuendo is everywhere, but bad writing and poor stereotypes with a smidge of "girls are just playthings" is not.
Later, as we were watching Surviorman, in an attempt to ease the brain swelling, there was a commercial for silver coins. Evidently, I should buy a 19 dollar silver coin to "avoid disappointment and future regret". I think they were talking about me regretting not buying the nifty coin . . . but boy, I would love avoiding disappointment and future regret for only one payment of $19,95. Sign me up.
Monday, August 06, 2007
Bored Now
"Bored now."
Just like the character evil Willow in Buffy, bored now.
Have plenty to do. Don't want to go back to work. Don't want to go out. Don't want to stay in. Sick of my projects. Don't want to make any more sock monkeys. Don't want to sew. Certainly don't want to strip furniture or cabinetry. Bored now. Sigh.
Don't get me wrong. I could just lie on the couch and watch television. Don't want to do that either.
The character would say it when she wanted to eat someone . . . or destroy something. To be entertained. And that's just it. I want to be entertained. Bored now.
So my only way to deal, I guess, is leave the house . . . and hopefully find something entertaining. Don't even want to shop. I always want to shop.
Bored now. Sigh. And I want a "puppy".
Just like the character evil Willow in Buffy, bored now.
Have plenty to do. Don't want to go back to work. Don't want to go out. Don't want to stay in. Sick of my projects. Don't want to make any more sock monkeys. Don't want to sew. Certainly don't want to strip furniture or cabinetry. Bored now. Sigh.
Don't get me wrong. I could just lie on the couch and watch television. Don't want to do that either.
The character would say it when she wanted to eat someone . . . or destroy something. To be entertained. And that's just it. I want to be entertained. Bored now.
So my only way to deal, I guess, is leave the house . . . and hopefully find something entertaining. Don't even want to shop. I always want to shop.
Bored now. Sigh. And I want a "puppy".
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
There's this Show
I don't watch television much anymore. Something of a time crunch in my current existence.
But today, I felt icky . . . and I'm coughing up some vile things . . . so I decided to pass on working out. Nothing more embarrassing than hacking up a lung while lifting weights. So I sat on the couch and started with a movie.
The movie was suggested by a person, that I know, who said that I would really like it. And I did like it, until I figured out the plot twist . . . with an hour yet to go in the movie. So then I slept through the rest. Really, once you see the bottle put in the suitcase, it's all over.
Once I woke up, I watched some t.v.. I watched my favorite show, NCIS, because Mark Harmon is hot and I like to know that someone Dark Princessey like me has a job (Abbi). I watched Law and Order . . . and remembered why I don't watch Law and Order. Again, with the obvious plot twist noticable in the first fifteen minutes. Then I flipped between CSI and this show that I only watch with my parents. Boston Legal . . . I think it's called. Has the character, Denny Crane, in it . . . with the "mad cow" disease that he uses as an excuse for everything. He reminds me of Mr. Crabbypants. So much so, that when he is being crabby, I now chalk it up to mad cow.
I only watch this show with my parents, who have several seasons on DVD. My father and I will do marathon sessions, with wine . . . I think we could have cigars, if my mother would let us. Anyhow, watching it alone made me miss them. And the show isn't as funny without them somehow. Which is why I don't watch it.
So where should I go for my birthday?
But today, I felt icky . . . and I'm coughing up some vile things . . . so I decided to pass on working out. Nothing more embarrassing than hacking up a lung while lifting weights. So I sat on the couch and started with a movie.
The movie was suggested by a person, that I know, who said that I would really like it. And I did like it, until I figured out the plot twist . . . with an hour yet to go in the movie. So then I slept through the rest. Really, once you see the bottle put in the suitcase, it's all over.
Once I woke up, I watched some t.v.. I watched my favorite show, NCIS, because Mark Harmon is hot and I like to know that someone Dark Princessey like me has a job (Abbi). I watched Law and Order . . . and remembered why I don't watch Law and Order. Again, with the obvious plot twist noticable in the first fifteen minutes. Then I flipped between CSI and this show that I only watch with my parents. Boston Legal . . . I think it's called. Has the character, Denny Crane, in it . . . with the "mad cow" disease that he uses as an excuse for everything. He reminds me of Mr. Crabbypants. So much so, that when he is being crabby, I now chalk it up to mad cow.
I only watch this show with my parents, who have several seasons on DVD. My father and I will do marathon sessions, with wine . . . I think we could have cigars, if my mother would let us. Anyhow, watching it alone made me miss them. And the show isn't as funny without them somehow. Which is why I don't watch it.
So where should I go for my birthday?
Sunday, January 07, 2007
. . . and love him and rub him and pet him . . .
Sorry, can't find this on youtube . . . or anywhere else. Please accept this to watch in it's stead.
And I so want a "Duck Dodgers" costume. Just to wear around the house.
My New Friend
On Looney Tunes (?), there was this character that used to say "This is new friend George. He is my friend he is. And I will hug him and squeeze him and pet him and love him . . . " I think it was some sort of dog. Please, all my minions, please find it on youtube and send me the link.
Anyhow, I bought a new camera . . . and I'm seriously considering calling it George. And I want to be with it all the time. And I want to hug it and squeeze it and love it . . .
I bought a Nikon D80. And it cost more than all of the leather furniture in my living room combined. And it does amazing things . . . most of which I am unaware of . . . but I'm sure it would make me scrambled eggs, if I liked scrambled eggs. And did I mention that I love it?
And the purchase was mainly because of penis envy (can I say that on here?), as I am "press" and I don't want to look foolish with my measly little Fuji 7000. I don't have a flash, so you will still be able to tell that I'm amateur. But it makes me feel better and takes sweet pictures. (Have a good one of Mr. Crabbypants, but didn't get his permission to post, so won't. And have a bunch of pictures of my brother with his eyes closed.) And I will love it and squeeze it and never take it off my body. I may sleep with it tonight. George.
Anyhow, I bought a new camera . . . and I'm seriously considering calling it George. And I want to be with it all the time. And I want to hug it and squeeze it and love it . . .
I bought a Nikon D80. And it cost more than all of the leather furniture in my living room combined. And it does amazing things . . . most of which I am unaware of . . . but I'm sure it would make me scrambled eggs, if I liked scrambled eggs. And did I mention that I love it?
And the purchase was mainly because of penis envy (can I say that on here?), as I am "press" and I don't want to look foolish with my measly little Fuji 7000. I don't have a flash, so you will still be able to tell that I'm amateur. But it makes me feel better and takes sweet pictures. (Have a good one of Mr. Crabbypants, but didn't get his permission to post, so won't. And have a bunch of pictures of my brother with his eyes closed.) And I will love it and squeeze it and never take it off my body. I may sleep with it tonight. George.
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Brothers and Sisters
My mother and father have been babbling about this show, Brothers and Sisters, for weeks now. I think there are a couple of comments on this about it. I had watched the first episode but then ignored it . . . I don't watch television much anymore. But since my eyes were almost bleeding and I'm putting off work that I need to do for tomorrow, I turned the thing on.
I only watched a half an hour . . . and despite the emotional manipulation (the father flashbacks, very sad), Ken Olin really does need to start paying us royalties for spying on us. I promise that the pie will not look like that this year. I'm not excited enough to turn on the T.V. every Sunday . . . after all, I get to see my brothers and sister in real time. And I do wish that we had glamorous jobs and 30 million dollars worth of land. And neither of my brothers would flood the engine with water. They have thrown a rod or two . . . and there was that one time, with the Great White Whale (my grandfather's car), when we gave it to J as a "free car" and he was in Michigan for like 48 hours and spent 46 hours changing the head gasket (?) so he could drive it back to Florida only to have it die in the middle of Georgia. Not the nice Atlanta part, either.
In watching the stuff on the website, we are not nearly as melodramatic or exciting. No drug overdoses. No secret family. Really we're boring.
Okay, have to make my book for tomorrow.
I only watched a half an hour . . . and despite the emotional manipulation (the father flashbacks, very sad), Ken Olin really does need to start paying us royalties for spying on us. I promise that the pie will not look like that this year. I'm not excited enough to turn on the T.V. every Sunday . . . after all, I get to see my brothers and sister in real time. And I do wish that we had glamorous jobs and 30 million dollars worth of land. And neither of my brothers would flood the engine with water. They have thrown a rod or two . . . and there was that one time, with the Great White Whale (my grandfather's car), when we gave it to J as a "free car" and he was in Michigan for like 48 hours and spent 46 hours changing the head gasket (?) so he could drive it back to Florida only to have it die in the middle of Georgia. Not the nice Atlanta part, either.
In watching the stuff on the website, we are not nearly as melodramatic or exciting. No drug overdoses. No secret family. Really we're boring.
Okay, have to make my book for tomorrow.
Friday, April 21, 2006
It's Here
Despite the fact that I always tell the internet my birthday is on the 27th . . . it's here. I'm 35.
Of course, I'm going to tell everyone I'm 28. So this is "thirtysomething". It helps that I had a good time on my date yesterday . . . I haven't freaked out yet. Well, except for that projectile vomiting, being hung over for two days thing. And I guess I'm okay with being a whole Melissa-Ellen combo but I would really like Hope's house . . . and Michael Steadman.
Now that anyone under 35 has no idea what I'm talking about . . . I have the very big plans of going to the Secretary of State and the allergist. Maybe to Somerset for some shopping.
Of course, I'm going to tell everyone I'm 28. So this is "thirtysomething". It helps that I had a good time on my date yesterday . . . I haven't freaked out yet. Well, except for that projectile vomiting, being hung over for two days thing. And I guess I'm okay with being a whole Melissa-Ellen combo but I would really like Hope's house . . . and Michael Steadman.
Now that anyone under 35 has no idea what I'm talking about . . . I have the very big plans of going to the Secretary of State and the allergist. Maybe to Somerset for some shopping.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Still Can't be an Alcoholic
Despite my dream to be on the show "Intervention" and have some producer see that show and make me a star . . . I still cannot drink alcohol and not throw up. I suppose I could just drink and accept the throwing up part, but being unwilling to do that, I just cannot be an alcoholic.
On Friday, I had two beers with dinner . . . safe beers at that. Not new-fangled beer that I haven't had before, not beer that I know gives me a headache, nope, Guinness, something I know will not get sick on . . .
Then I went to my parents house and watched "Love Monkey". While there, I consumed four glasses of wine because my father wanted to do a taste comparison -- Columbia Crest "Two Vines" vs. Columbia Crest something else more expensive. I liked the more expensive, by the way. I crashed at my parents and got up way hung over. Like nauseous hung over, head pounding, can't move, must go back under the covers, hung over.
I drove home, picked up Starbucks on the way, sipped the soymilky goodness, slept for an hour and then puked. This will be graphic, so the queasy should stop reading HERE -- so first heave was Starbucks, no surprise there . . . second heave was wine colored, making me think, "there were layers?", the third, fourth and fifth heaves were wine colored chunks of what I assume was the last night's fish entree. Around noon I ate some squash soup, which sat angrily in my stomach but managed to stay down. -- AND START BACK HERE. So I don't know what made me sick . . . well, I do, it was the alcohol but I don't know what about the combination of alcohols. Was it the wine and the beer? Was it the two different kinds of wine? Was it the unique trifecta? I started keeping things down around five o'clock, per the usual alcohol sickness epidsodes. So I suck at drinking. And now I won't drink anything for a while because of the flashbacks.
I am really good at puking however. Too bad that isn't more fun.
On Friday, I had two beers with dinner . . . safe beers at that. Not new-fangled beer that I haven't had before, not beer that I know gives me a headache, nope, Guinness, something I know will not get sick on . . .
Then I went to my parents house and watched "Love Monkey". While there, I consumed four glasses of wine because my father wanted to do a taste comparison -- Columbia Crest "Two Vines" vs. Columbia Crest something else more expensive. I liked the more expensive, by the way. I crashed at my parents and got up way hung over. Like nauseous hung over, head pounding, can't move, must go back under the covers, hung over.
I drove home, picked up Starbucks on the way, sipped the soymilky goodness, slept for an hour and then puked. This will be graphic, so the queasy should stop reading HERE -- so first heave was Starbucks, no surprise there . . . second heave was wine colored, making me think, "there were layers?", the third, fourth and fifth heaves were wine colored chunks of what I assume was the last night's fish entree. Around noon I ate some squash soup, which sat angrily in my stomach but managed to stay down. -- AND START BACK HERE. So I don't know what made me sick . . . well, I do, it was the alcohol but I don't know what about the combination of alcohols. Was it the wine and the beer? Was it the two different kinds of wine? Was it the unique trifecta? I started keeping things down around five o'clock, per the usual alcohol sickness epidsodes. So I suck at drinking. And now I won't drink anything for a while because of the flashbacks.
I am really good at puking however. Too bad that isn't more fun.
Thursday, December 29, 2005
Cheesean'RICE
Now I'm sick . . . ill with the black plague, I'm sure. My whole body aches . . . and not from the SKA concert, there are chills, there is sore throatness, there might be a fever but I don't have a thermometer. . . and I know I've been staying up all night but I slept ALL day. In the fetal position. Groaning softly. With a blanket over my head.
It doesn't help that I am the biggest hypochondriac in the world. I'm already dreaming up all the diseases that start with "flu-like" symptoms. So I'm sure I'm terminal . . . it couldn't just be a cold. They definitely should not let me watch House.
In between thoughts of my demise, I'm waiting on the phone to ring and making mix CDs. I have no food in the house, my usual M.O., which is inconvenient when you don't feel well enough to leave the house. I ate Ramen for dinner. (did you realize that there are TWO servings in that package? Two servings for small children? Cats?) (Ramen are not very low calorie either, by the way) So I may have to rally enough for a trip to Meijer tonight . . . and we all know how I love the Royal Oak Meijer at midnight. On a Thursday.
But for gosh sake! Why do I always have to get sick on vacation?
It doesn't help that I am the biggest hypochondriac in the world. I'm already dreaming up all the diseases that start with "flu-like" symptoms. So I'm sure I'm terminal . . . it couldn't just be a cold. They definitely should not let me watch House.
In between thoughts of my demise, I'm waiting on the phone to ring and making mix CDs. I have no food in the house, my usual M.O., which is inconvenient when you don't feel well enough to leave the house. I ate Ramen for dinner. (did you realize that there are TWO servings in that package? Two servings for small children? Cats?) (Ramen are not very low calorie either, by the way) So I may have to rally enough for a trip to Meijer tonight . . . and we all know how I love the Royal Oak Meijer at midnight. On a Thursday.
But for gosh sake! Why do I always have to get sick on vacation?
Thursday, December 01, 2005
Retraction
My sister has pointed out that I bought the goofy "in shower" moisturizer at the good sale Target in Wixom, while I was with her . . . not the German Thanksgiving guests. Sorry, Mere. It had been a long day.
And for all of you that gave me crap today about shopping at the evil Walmart and spending money there which supports their evilness . . . it turns out I didn't. I spent the money at Target, with their happy red shirts and khaki pants and their clearance end caps. I hope you'll sleep better with this news.
I'm missing ALIAS again and I have to go for a walk out in the freezing rain (well . . . not really HAVE to, more like, if I don't I'll feel like crap and I don't want to feel like crap). It's enough to make you go spend money for a membership at the Y. However, the Y is just close enough to my house that I would feel guilty for driving and yet just far enough away when it's really cold. I'll just go put on my flannel lined jeans and do it. I'll hope my father DVR'ed the adventures of Sydney and Jack.
And for all of you that gave me crap today about shopping at the evil Walmart and spending money there which supports their evilness . . . it turns out I didn't. I spent the money at Target, with their happy red shirts and khaki pants and their clearance end caps. I hope you'll sleep better with this news.
I'm missing ALIAS again and I have to go for a walk out in the freezing rain (well . . . not really HAVE to, more like, if I don't I'll feel like crap and I don't want to feel like crap). It's enough to make you go spend money for a membership at the Y. However, the Y is just close enough to my house that I would feel guilty for driving and yet just far enough away when it's really cold. I'll just go put on my flannel lined jeans and do it. I'll hope my father DVR'ed the adventures of Sydney and Jack.
Thursday, November 17, 2005
Watch the luck.
I haven't had a random bleeding incident in a whole 24 hours.
Of course, I say this in print and I will have a nose bleed of all nose bleeds during ALIAS, just you watch. All this tempting of fate.
Of course, I say this in print and I will have a nose bleed of all nose bleeds during ALIAS, just you watch. All this tempting of fate.
Tuesday, April 12, 2005
Perfect Card Carrying Geek
As it turns out, I'm a sucker for the "Dune" mini-series. I've read Dune by Frank Herbert at least four times though and the Sci-Fi channel did an excellent job of interpreting it. No Sting . . . but Paul Atreides is much cuter. This makes me a card-carrying geek . . . if they only had cards, but that would be too cool and FBI or superhero like. (in my own little mind - geek cards would be good for haircuts and money off boot cut jeans) I love a book that needs four Appendixes.
Someone today told me that she aspired to "be like me". She thinks I am "confident" and admires that "kick ass attitude" and I had to explain to her that it is mostly all a front. She was amazed that I don't party every night . . . as I was rebutting the "I wish I had your life" comment. She really doesn't wish that she has my life. Today I came home early (for me) because I refused to sit in the yearbook room, rotting and checking proofs, if there are no kids who care enough to show up. I did my taxes. I royally screwed up my taxes. I did my taxes again. I surfed the net. I watched "Friends" (an episode I hadn't seen . . . Rachel gets horny) and then I ate some leftover chili. (don't have a garbage disposal, have to eat the chili) Watched Dune and NCIS simultaneously. Watched Dune and Scrubs the same way. Now writing this blog. Yeah, I have a life to be envied.
Someone today told me that she aspired to "be like me". She thinks I am "confident" and admires that "kick ass attitude" and I had to explain to her that it is mostly all a front. She was amazed that I don't party every night . . . as I was rebutting the "I wish I had your life" comment. She really doesn't wish that she has my life. Today I came home early (for me) because I refused to sit in the yearbook room, rotting and checking proofs, if there are no kids who care enough to show up. I did my taxes. I royally screwed up my taxes. I did my taxes again. I surfed the net. I watched "Friends" (an episode I hadn't seen . . . Rachel gets horny) and then I ate some leftover chili. (don't have a garbage disposal, have to eat the chili) Watched Dune and NCIS simultaneously. Watched Dune and Scrubs the same way. Now writing this blog. Yeah, I have a life to be envied.
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