If this came in a color other than pink, I would TOTALLY get one or three. Camouflage would be nice. I promise that I don't have a secret desire to be a Teletubbie.
My friend, Morgan, introduced me to "The Room" aka "The Worst Movie Ever Made". I can't get this gem out of my head.
Thanks, Morgan. (said with a mix of sarcasm and gratitude)
Here are two unforgettable scenes...enjoy!
I did naaaawt.
That's me.
Last Thursday as I left work, a car was pulled up to the front of the building and a lady was getting into the car. The doors on this car went up instead of out to the side. The lady pulled the door down to close it and the car drove away.
I was not aware that driveable DeLoreans were still around.
If you are going out and the guy has parked a DeLorean in front of your house, is the date over?
I am a strong believer of NOT putting pictures of yourself or your child online. Today, I am going against that belief...sort of...
This is me. I've only had one cup o' java this morning so I'm still a bit persnickety. In a perfect world, I really would be wearing a hoodie and cargo pants but I am at work which means I am dressed more like this...
Isn't it cute how I'm acting like I'm happy about wearing hose and clip-clop shoes? Don't believe my smile; I'm a big faker. My boss isn't traveling so he is in the room right next to me today. I don't want him to think that I have a bad attitude about work. Plus, he arrived at the office before I did this morning which means that he made the coffee so I didn't have to wait for it to drip...drip...drip...drip...which makes me happy-ish.
This is Olivia. She is missing two teeth. I told her that if she would put things away when she was finished, she would be able to find them later but she kept interrupting to tell me that her teeth were stolen from her during the night by a wood sprite. She then tried to dial 9-1-1 to report the theft but I was able to stop her from calling. I do NOT need to 'splain a 9-1-1 call to Officer Not Amused...again.
Or were her teeth stolen by a C.H.U.D.? I can't remember the exact creature but I'm pretty sure it can play the panflute.
Anyway...Olivia is wearing her uniform because she is at school today. I absolutely LOVE the uniforms! Makes getting ready in the morning soooooooooo much easier! No battle over how a tank top and flip-flops are NOT appropriate during the winter months.
Friday is Free Dress Day at school which means Friday morning is going to suck. If Olivia picked out something like this to wear...
...it wouldn't be too bad. Only the flip-flops would need a parental veto. (Note to self: Get Olivia's bangs trimmed on Saturday. She keeps pushing them out of her eyes.)
So, what did we learn here today?
Uniforms/Oppression = Good
Flip-Flops/Individuality = Bad
Answering the door soaking wet and wearing nothing but a towel because there is an officer in uniform ringing the bell and I was in the shower = Bad
Actually, that has potential to be good. When it happens again, I'll let you know. Depends on the uniformed officer, I suppose. Unfortunately, I'll have to turn over two quarters and some sparkly dust as "evidence" which isn't the best way to get a date.
Wait a minute...are uniforms good or bad? Crap.
I'm so confused.
Have you ever wondered what happened to that caveman who used to be in the Outback Steakhouse commercials?
His name is Jemaine and he's one-half of a band named Flight of the Conchords. They also have a show on HBO by the same name.
The other half of FOTC is Bret. You may recognize him as an Elf Escort from the movie The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King.
More songs should have binary solos.
...I rate those a Russell Crowe.
Let's say that you and I are at the mall, you try on a pair of jeans and ask for my opinion. Even though they are the latest style and most people are wearing them, they're not very flattering and I think the brand is overrated so I say, "Meh...about a four."
Of course, anything less than an eight is unacceptable so you pass on the jeans and we mosey on down to the food court for a Jamba Juice.
In real life, this situation probably wouldn't happen for two reasons: my strong aversion to the mall and the fact that I do not rate via the 1 to 10 scale system anymore. I have created my own rating system...The Man Scale. A celebrity represents a number from 1 to 10. Instead of rating those jeans a four, I would have said, "Meh...about a Russell Crowe" because I find Crowe less-than-average in the looks department and just a wee bit overrated.
Pretty stupid, huh?
When Gladiator came out, one of my friends kept telling me to watch it because Russell was half-nekkid most of the time. This did not entice me to watch the movie because when I think of Russell Crowe, I immediately think of Sloth from The Goonies. I think they are the same except one is less pirate-y.
Here is The Man Scale that I use:
1 = Carrot Top (Shudder)
2 = Ric Ocasek (Eat a sandwich already)
3 = Steve Buscemi
4 = Russell Crowe
5 = John Cusack (Solid average)
6 = Edward Norton
7 = Chris Isaak (He dresses up in concert)
8 = Christian Bale
9 = Dennis Quaid/Steve McQueen
10 = Paul Newman, Paul Newman, Paul Newman and Paul Newman
I highly recommend the movie Slap Shot but be warned of the foul language. Newman's wardrobe in the movie is incredible.
Today, I went to QFC to "pick up a prescription" but I suspect the real reason was to see if that giant pumpkin had been hauled away. (There was no sign of the pumpkin.) The pharmacist gave me my meds and also handed over some sort of punch card.
"Oh, we're having the customer keep these cards instead of keeping track of them behind the counter."
I looked at the card and saw that each time I filled a prescription, QFC marked off a box and I could earn QFC gift cards. Free-ish money!
"Here's your $10 gift card. Oh...and these are only for fun."
Whoa whoa whoa. What was up with that "fun" comment? I must investigate.
"I wasn't even aware of this card. You say it's for fun only. Does that mean people pester you about these things instead of just having fun with them?"
The pharmacist scanned the area, saw that nobody was within earshot and said, "You wouldn't believe it. People will have five prescriptions sitting back there but will pick them up one at a time so they can check off five boxes on the card."
I informed him that he should keep a journal behind the counter to take notes about customer comments/behavior. After two or three years, he'd have enough material to write a book. Name it something along the lines of Consultation Counter Confessions. My friend, Sue, and I always talk about writing our own book about the crap we saw while working at Nordstrom. If it was a crazy situation, one of us would be involved if not both of us. And it was always on a Sunday. My shining moment was having a customer follow me into the bathroom, wait until I was inside the stall and then ask me to give change for a dollar. Did she think I was wearing a change belt? Psycho Sunday. My favorite Sue moment was when some guy told her that she had the "spirit of Jezebel" and then started to recite Scripture. He was personally introduced to Nordstrom security. Psycho Sunday.
Good times.
I told the pharmacist he could make some extra money off of such a book. He said, "Yesterday, I told a customer that her prescription would be ready in 10 minutes. She then asked if it could be filled immediately because she didn't want to die."
I have no idea how old that customer was or what the heck she was taking pills for but it's kind of sad that she was worried about dying while waiting for her prescription.
My favorite was the pharmacist checking the perimeter before spilling the dirt about the punch cards.
In 1972, MGM released a horror movie about a crotchety patriarch named Jason Crockett(Ray Milland). Crockett owns an island and the entire Crockett Clan gathers each 4th of July to celebrate the old coot's birthday. Crockett ain't too keen on having critters running amok during the festivities so he does what any self-respecting millionaire would do and poisons them.
A free-lance environmentalist photographer named Pickett Smith just happens to come across Crockett's private island and is the hero of the movie. I believe Pickett arrived by canoe. My guess is to reduce his carbon footprint by leaving his gas-guzzling speedboat at home.
Joe and I absolutely LOVE this movie! For many reasons but first and foremost, Pickett Smith is played by Sam Elliott and anybody who has seen Road House knows that a movie with Sam Elliott is worth a look-see. Of course, Patrick Swayze as Dalton is the real reason to watch Road House but when Sam Elliott's character first shows up to give Dalton some help kicking in the teeth of the local troublemakers, he calls the bar The Double Douche instead of The Double Deuce. That's some fine cinematic writing at work. What's more amazing about Road House is the hair on the three main characters. One would think Kelly Lynch would be the prettiest of them all but this picture proves otherwise. Maybe if she showed off more chest hair in the v-neck of her shirt she'd have a chance but Sam Elliott's v-neck is clearly the winner.
Don't judge me. You know that every time USA runs its Road House marathon, you call up Domino's and plant yourself firmly in front of the telly so you won't miss one moment of not believing Swayze could actually whoop up on any of those fools he bounces out of town.
Anyway, back to Frogs...The frogs are the ringleaders that plot against Crockett and his brood for their anti-nature behavior. The frogs keep us guessing throughout by sending in different creatures each time to kill off the polluting humans. Will it be the lizards? Or the spiders? Or the alligators? How about that turtle? Yes, even a turtle gets a little blood on its shell.
Were Joe and I scared by this movie? Absolutely not! Today, I was in Target with my cousin and his family and the kids pulled a bunch of stuffed frogs that sang and danced down from the shelf and set them all off at the same time. Now THAT was horrifying!
Seriously...just look at these things...they are frightening!
When I was in the 5th grade, I remember looking at patterns at the fabric store with Mom and Joe. Mom held up a Crayola crayon pattern and said, "Leah, what color of crayon do you want to be?"
Me: "Yellow!"
Mom: "Okay. Joe what color of crayon do you want to be?"
Joe: "I want to be a tube of toothpaste!"
Mom bought one pattern, a bunch of yellow felt, a bunch of white felt and a bunch of red felt and used the crayon pattern for both costumes. In case you were wondering, Joe was Colgate. I still think Mom should have made him Aquafresh instead. Fitting nine letters plus the Aquafresh striped swirl on that costume would have been impressive. Colgate = cop out.
Olivia has decided to be an evil queen for Halloween this year. Since Mom made most of the costumes for me and Joe when we were kids, it's important to me to continue the tradition for Olivia (meaning Mom makes Olivia's costumes because I don't know how to sew). We were at the fabric store a few days ago looking for an evil queen pattern and something caught my eye. It was a family of penguins so a family of humans could match for Halloween. Kind of like how on vacation, there tends to be one family wandering about wearing matching green shirts.
I found a pattern of various capes that included a queen. The pattern also included a picture of a kid dressed as a vampire.
Me: "Olivia, you should be a vampire this year. If you're going to be a vampire, this is the year to do it!"
Olivia (with eye roll and disgusted sigh): "Mama, I don't have my two front teeth hell-oo! I would be the lamest vampire...ever!"
Exactly my point.
So...which is the lamest costume ever? Toothless Vampire? Yellow crayon? This guy? Tube of toothpaste? That time Joe made Mom create an Optimus Prime costume for him out of cardboard boxes and colored tape?
It should be mentioned that I don't really consider any of these costumes lame, except for Papa Penguin. I really hope that guy walked away with a giant sack of dirty money for being photographed while skidding on his belly.
Have any of you wondered why Scott Baio is a judge on "Dancing With The Stars"? I didn't realize Scott had jazz hands and high kicks in his background.
I know...I know...Bruno Tonioli is the real judge and not Baio but in my mind, they are one and the same. It's more fun for me that way.
Judge Baioli is a flamboyant teen heart-throb from back in the day and says things such as:
"The tango is strong and sensual! It started off very sexy and powerful but somewhere towards the middle, Charles was no longer in charge! Five!"
And:
"I was so mesmerized by your slow-slow-quick-quick-slow footwork that it lulled me into a saucy wonderland where everybody dances the Cha-Cha-Chachi! Nine!"
If I concentrate on Judge Baioli, then maybe I'll forget about Mark Cuban's butt-scar from his hip replacement surgery.
Once a week, I volunteer in Olivia's classroom for an hour. My assignment: Flash Cards. I agreed to this only because the answer is on the back of each flash card and doesn't require any attempt at doing math in my head.
My brother, Joe, also can't do math in his head. Just ask his 2nd grade teacher, Mrs. Krause, who was a nasty ole' thing and told our mother, "Joe is too stupid to do math." I'd tell you to also ask his Sophomore algebra teacher, Mr. Shockey, but Mr. Shockey would actually have to know who my brother is in order to answer the question. During a Parent/Teacher conference, Mr. Shockey asked our mother, "Are you sure Joe is in my class?"
Joe and I went to really, really good schools. (For the record, we both can do math but it may or may not involve a calculator.)
Anyway...while doing the flash cards, I noticed something and I just have to ask:
Is it normal for a 2nd grade kid to be doing long division?
Because I don't think it's normal.
There are three (possibly four) kids in that class room who are studying long division.
I won't make eye contact with those kids.
All I can remember about the 2nd grade is that I rode a pink Schwinn bicycle and my teacher's name was Mrs. Schwinn. And something about a green hat.
The other day, Olivia told me that she "already knew everything" and, therefore, she "didn't need to go to school" anymore.
"You're in the 2nd grade and you already know everything, do ya? What's pi?"
"Huh? Do you mean chocolate or lemon pie? Are we going to eat some pie, Mama?"
I informed her that she needed some more schoolin' and didn't 'splain any further.
I'm going to ask those three (possibly four) kids in her class for the value of pi the next time I'm there. If I hear anything about the ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter, it had better be that Kid C got a bigger slice of pie than Kid D and Kid X doesn't particularly care for pie but really likes vanilla ice cream.
Olivia and I walked through Penney's and into the mall. I was feeling pretty good about shopping because I walk approx. 4 miles per hour and she was keeping up without trouble. Ahead, I could see the hand lotion/nail guy and he already had me in his cross-hairs. I turned to Olivia and said, "Stick with me, kid" and made like I was really interested in what Hallmark had displayed in their window.
"Oh miss, could I please see your hand?"
Crap.
"Oh-a...scusi scusi...my-a Eeegnleesh...itsa..."
"Mama, why are you waving your arms around and talking like that?"
Kid busted me. Not something I'll soon forget. Little traitor.
"This buffer makes your nails look freshly manicured without the manicure."
"Oh no...I'm fine...really..."
"...only $29.95 and I also have hand lotion...have a sniff..."
"I'm allergic."
With that, I grabbed Olivia's hand and bolted away with the man chasing after us.
"What did I say about the man with the sponge, Olivia?"
"But, Mama, it's rude to ignore somebody when they speak to you."
Damn school teaching my kid proper etiquette.
"Yes, Olivia, you are correct."
We scurried into Macy's and headed straight to the section that had work-ish looking clothes. I grabbed a dress off of the rack and found a mirrored support post. I held the dress up to the front of me while turning from side to side so I could see how it looked from all angles. "This dress makes my butt look big," I said to myself and returned it to the rack. I turned towards Olivia so she would know that I was walking to another area and...she wasn't there! Frantically, I looked around, jumping so I could see over the racks, and spotted her getting a drink from the water fountain!
Crap.
"Olivia, we're going to get something for lunch after shopping and you can have a drink then so...NONONONONONO...do NOT put your mouth on the fountain!"
My earlier good feeling about shopping immediately vanished.
I finished up with Macy's as quickly as possible with my child constantly yipping, "...but, Mama, how do you know it will fit if you don't try it on?" My response: "I just do...it's one of my super-powers." Olivia accepted this explanation without question because it is common knowledge that, indeed, I am a super-hero. (I'm also a rock star. I know this because Olivia sometimes wears a t-shirt that says, "My mom is a Rock Star!" It's brown and pink with lots of sparkles. The sparkles make it true.)
We made it through Ann Taylor without incident and headed for The Gap.
"Mama, I have to go potty."
Crap.
"Just wait a few minutes, Olivia. We'll be finished soon."
"Mama, I really have to go...I can't hold it!"
Crap. Crap. Damn department stores with their conveniently located water fountains to keep their customers properly hydrated.
"Okay, let's go across to Nordstrom and you can use their restroom." I was actually fine with this because Nordy's has the only public restroom I feel safe entering.
We took the escalator to the 2nd floor and headed towards the bathroom, which is located next to lingerie. "Hmm...I probably should buy some new bras," I thought.
(If you are beginning to sense that trouble's a-brewin', you are absolutely correct.)
After the restroom, we walked onto the lingerie floor. I need to interject that I absolutely loathe bra shopping. There are the obvious reasons but also the inevitable question from the salesgal which is, "Have you been fitted for a bra before?"
Crap.
I uttered a very reluctant, "No..." because the prospect of standing in a small dressing room nekkid from the waist up with a complete stranger is 100% appalling to me. "Let's do that first and then I'll bring you some bras," and off to the dressing rooms we went.
The salesgal wrapped a measuring tape around me and said, "Okay...I'll be right back and we'll try on some bras!" Oh joy...in front of a quite perky 22 year old gal...and me with the child nursing and the gravity and the child nursing. Did I mention that she was perky?
Olivia was seated in front of me when she returned with four bras. "Go ahead, take off your shirt and bra and we'll try on the first one." I did as instructed and the minute my bra was away from my skin, the room was filled with...
"UGH! That is DISGUSTING! Mama, put your shirt back on...NOW!"
Crap.
"Oh Mama, that is just NASTY!"
Child so loud.
"Olivia, indoor voice please...yeah this bra feels fine."
The salesgal said, "Great...go ahead and remove the bra and we'll try on another. Sweetie, why don't you turn around so you don't have to watch?"
Not only is child so loud but also...child so smart. Again, I blame the school because there's no way she's getting those brains from home.
"Um...there's a mirror hell-oo...I can still see what's...YUCK! Mama, I did NOT need to see THAT! This is for private time only and not when other people can see! GROSS! Mama, put those things away!"
"This one feels good, too. I only need two bras so there's no need to try on all four. Why don't I wear this one out? You can just cut off the tag, right? So I don't have to change? Just cut off the tag, right?"
The salesgal cut off the tag, I put my shirt back on and the three of us walked to the register.
I kid you not...people were waiting around in the department to get a gander at the gnarly hag with small child in tow.
To be fair, if I heard that sort of thing coming from a dressing room, I'd wait around, too.
I don't enjoy shopping for clothes but my office relocated and the new work environment is very different. How different, you may ask? Before July 1st, my office was located in a warehouse behind the Expo Center...jeans, sweats, sneakers, no makeup...it was heaven! On July 1st, my office moved into an escrow branch. Escrow means customers are involved and even though my operation doesn't require customer contact, we are still visible so...skirts, slacks, nice tops, dresses, pantyhose, clip-clop shoes, makeup. Since my wardrobe was quite limited, a shopping trip was necessary so Olivia and I headed to...the mall. (I'm not a fan of the mall...probably has something to do with the fact a trip to the mall involves shopping for clothes.)
I have a have a specific plan when going to the mall. Get in, buy clothes, get out - all without using a public restroom. To achieve this goal, I use the following strategy:
As Olivia and I parked the car and began our walk towards Penney's, I explained the above plan to her and stressed the most crucial things...don't drink anything, don't drink anything and don't stop to wait for the man who is chasing Mommy with a sponge because I will not come back if he catches you!
...to be continued (we haven't gotten to the "gross mom" part yet - it will all make sense at the end) ...
This morning at 6:15, Dave Salesky warned of scorching heat for the next two days as I finished my cereal and asked my daughter to brush her teeth. I found the weather report to be ironic since just two days prior, I had turned on the A/C in the car and boiling air blasted into my face instead of a cool breeze. At 6:30, I cleaned up the dishes, turned off the telly and made another request for all small people in the house to practice oral hygiene immediately or I was going to count to three. Apparently, the idea of me counting out-loud is terrifying because that child and her pearly whites were ready to go at 6:32 and hi-ho hi-ho, it's off to day camp/drop the car off at the dealership because I'm not trying to have sweaty pits/work we go.
At work, my friend (Mark from Seattle) googled that he had seen Transformers and it was BADASS and that I might be interested to hear that Josh Duhamel was in the movie. I replied something along the lines of "Is that the guy who is on the show 'Vegas' with James Caan? Eh..." to which Mark responded, "Well, it also has giant fighting robots that change into cars, trucks and planes...THAT'S why it's so good!" I asked if Megatron transformed into a gun or if they changed him into something else. Mark said that Megatron turned into a jet but Optimus Prime was still a semi-truck. I then deemed the movie lame-o and stated I wouldn't watch it because Megatron is the leader of the Decepticons and a major character and when the Transformers first came onto the scene in the 80's, he was a revolver so it's wrong for the movie-making-people to switch him into a jet.
(Now, in the real world, I don't care a flying fig what Megatron transforms into. He could change from evil robot leader into a too-ripe banana and I wouldn't bat an eye. If Mr. Movie Maker wants to put an existing story/idea onto the big screen, the core characters need to remain intact or everything falls apart...that's my point. Don't believe me? Take a moment to think of Indiana Jones running from the giant rolling boulder in "Raiders of the Lost Ark"...intense, right? Let's say Joel Schumacher filmed a remake of "Raiders" and he replaced the boulder with the Kool-Aid Guy (it could happen...Jim Carrey as The Riddler was one of the least scary villains ever). Even though Indiana would certainly be crushed to death by either, the Kool-Aid Guy just doesn't have the same feel...entirely different movie. You could get your admission back from the theater over something like that.)
Anyway, Mark then said that I probably wanted to marry Optimus Prime when I was kid. Of course, I did NOT want to marry OP but I did have a crush on Alex P. Keaton. Not so much Michael J. Fox...just APK...and I never really understood what Joanie possibly saw in Chachi. Or Scott Baio.
Mark informed me that Baio has a reputation for hooking up with hot or semi-hot actresses (especially during "Happy Days" & "Joanie Loves Chachi"). I asked him if Marion Ross had sniffed around Baio's cage and Mark said that he didn't think so. That was a relief because remember how creepy it was when we found out that Mrs. Brady dated Greg Brady in real life? Same sort of thing, except Mrs. Cunningham wasn't related to Chachi.
Here's where it starts to get weird.
After work, I collected my daughter and drove home in a loaner car because my car was still at the dealership. We had dinner and turned on the news which reported a high temp of 102 degrees...nasty. Normally after the news, I watch a movie but my mailbox didn't have any Netflix so I sat at the table and worked on my computer. I'm not sure why I didn't turn off the TV but "Extra" or "Access Hollywood" or "Whatever" apparently comes on after the news and was droning in the background. I wasn't paying attention to the blonde chatty chat chat until I heard, "...and when we come back from the break, Scott Baio turns 45 and talks about his happy days with the ladies before Joanie loved Chachi."
!!!!!!
It's not like Scott Baio is currently on a show or in a movie or at all relevent so the mere fact that he was mentioned in my google with Mark and mentioned on TV the very same day is a bit odd. THEN...add in how Mark said that SB caught all of the tail back in the day, which is exactly what the blonde lady promised to report on next, and we are suddenly having a Twilight Zone moment.
Is this some sort of sign? If so, what kind of sign might that be? Because it worries me...A LOT! The last thing I want (well, maybe not the absolute 'last' thing but definitely waaaay down at the bottom of the Things I Want list) is to find out that Mark and I are destined to become the leaders of some sicko SB/Chachi worshipping cult so we end up quitting our jobs to travel the country in a Winnebago, spreading the word that Charles is in charge of our days and our nights.
I do believe the government would step in and take my daughter to live with her new mommy in Scottsdale, AZ. She'd probably get a pony, too.
OOOOOH...back from commercial. Scotty Boy got with Heather Locklear, Pam Anderson, Brooke Shields (was she drugged?), Erika Eleniak, Nicollette Sheridan...other gals but I didn't catch the names because I was trying process Brooke Shields. What was she thinking? Were her bushy eyebrows obstructing her view and she thought SB was actually JFK, Jr.? Poor gal...imagine her shock and horror once she busted out the tweezers to find Scott peering back at her instead of John John.
