Visit the old entries! Momma said there'd be weeks like this Goin back to NOLA, to NOLA, to NOLA How to be a Convincing "Homeless" Person Dumb Restaurant Idea Semi-camping themed entry I hate it when people spell it Toobing! Okay, okay . . . You know you work too much when . . . Making up is hard to do You know you're full of yourself when . . . Every step you take, my name is . . . Oy vay What's in a name? Laissez les bons temps rouler! I predict an Oscar!! Pictures! RIP Boxspring They're ba-ack It's happening . . . again Extreme Home Makeover Birthday edit! Birthdays Resolute Vindicated! Bah Humbug Step by step and we all fall down A bone to pick We're # 1 A picture is worth . . . Return to Sender DC Talk
Thoughts from Babs
Saturday, August 20, 2005
07:23 p.m.
Quite a week I've had. Due to several things, including being screamed at that I am bitchy and have no manners at a party, starting school, realizing that certain friendships are indeed over and finishing up a pack of BC pills (and we all know what that means), I guess one could say that I have been more sensitive than usual. I generally consider myself a grown person. But, it amazes me that when someone does or says something that really hurts my feelings, all I really want to do is go and lay in my mom's lap, tell her what's bothering me, and, quite frankly, cry. No worries, I did refrain from going quite that far, but the urge was definitely there. Added to the frustration was the fact that I tried to write an entry earlier in the week but it was lost in cyber-space. Bah. I did think that it might have been because somebody up there likes me, since I am always paranoid that people that I write about in a less than positive light will read this. I guess it isn't that paranoid since it has happened before. At any rate, what is it about people that makes them feel like Momma is the only thing that will make them feel better? Is it memories from childhood when it seemed that she actually could make everything better? Is it because she is the person who is responsible for loving you unconditionally? Or is it just because she made you and anything that you did that other people didn't approve of is actually her fault because of genes and all that jazz? Ok, mainly kidding about that last one. But, I'll just let it suffice to say that I couldn't be happier that this week is finally over.
Thursday, August 4, 2005
03:01 p.m.
Good morning America how are you?
Don't you know me I'm your native son,
I'm the train they call The City of New Orleans,
I'll be gone five hundred miles when the day is done.
So, if you read Ebony's or Steph's blog, you probably know by now that we are leaving today for a girls' weekend of drunken debauchery (and culture! don't forget the culture!) to celebrate Eb's 25th. Which, according to Lindsey, is the age at which your body starts to die. By the way, thanks for that Linds, it's not like the thought haunts me every night while I try to sleep. Anywho . . . We are all really excited and I am sure that the weekend will be an absolute blast. We are taking no less than 2 digital cameras, 4 pounds of snacks, 3 liters of alcohol, 47 CDs and 28 shirts (I have at least 9). Hey, we're prepared types. The goal of the weekend is to find Ebony 25 men to kiss in honor of her being a quarter century old. I think we should get Steph to kiss 12 1/2 as the other singleton in the group, as Zach and Matt would not approve of Sarah and I doing so. We'll just have to be men realtors. Anyway, stories on Monday (if we're not all still hungover). Then, work on Wednesday. (Boo!)
Tuesday, July 19, 2005
10:17 a.m.
Alright, coming from Austin, which is not only the Live music Capital of the World but, apparently, also the "Homeless" People Capital of the World, I feel the need to share the mistakes of others and offer some advice to all of you sitting out there in your house reading this on your computer through your internet provider who are wondering how, exactly to go about being "homeless". Now, don't be mistaken, the quotes are there on purpose. I believe that about 50% of people claiming to be "homeless" on street corners have just walked to the corner from their house or have their car parked somewhere close but hidden, waiting to take them home for a soak in the tub. Some of these people have a pretty good act going. Others are lacking in important details that make it utterly impossible to believe that they are without home. First off, I saw a homeless woman a few weeks ago (near the arboretum, no less) who had the typical "will work for food" sign. Her clothes looked worn and dirty, her expression downtrodden, but here's the kicker. She was fat. Now I am not talking pudgy, chubby, overweight, I mean fat. And you all know the difference. How I am supposed to believe that you are homeless if you are carrying around 100 extra pounds? Don't talk to me about thyroid problems- if you ate that little and walked that much, you couldn't be that fat.
Another guy I saw on several occasions while driving to the gym. His clothes were good, he was of an appropriate weight, but he had on clean socks. Every time. Umm, so all your clothes are dirty, but your socks are pristine white? I don't think so. Not to mention that every time I saw him he was wearing a completely different outfit. Yet, he only carried a small sized backpack. How do you fit 4 or 5 outfits in a small backpack? You don't! You fit them in your closet! At your house!
Another guy I saw had on Wranglers and his shirt was pulled up so I could see his pockets. And the outline of his wallet in his pocket. Hmm, what do you keep in your wallet? Driver's license (useless if you have no address and no car), money, credit cards, insurance cards, none of which a homeless person would have.
Last but not least, I see a lot of "homeless" people with dogs. Most people have this down. The dog needs to be some big shaggy, disheveled looking dog with a sad face that will just sit there like he is hungry and without home. However, I saw a lady last week who was "homeless" and had a daschund with her. For those of you unfamiliar with dog breeds, that is a wiener dog! Like a wiener dog is really tough enough to live on the streets. Their little legs can't keep up with all that walking! Not to mention, that the dog had really short hair, meaning it had recently been groomed and (and this is the kicker!) it had tags! Did the tags say "Please return me to my owner, under the Parmer/ MoPac bridge"? I don't think so. These people are getting lazy. I remember the good old days when the homeless people were homeless and the lazy people managed to sponge off family members and live on friends' couches.
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
02:55 p.m.
Ok, this is one of the stupidest things I have ever seen. I mean, I go to a restaurant because I want to get something that I can't get at home. Do I have a deep frier at home? No- that is why I go to McDonald's to get their fries. Do I have a margarita machine at home? No- that is why I go to Trudy's to get their margaritas. Do I have a secret recipe for bowtie festival at home? No- that is why I go to Johnny Carino's to get Bowtie Festival. Do I have cereal at home? Yes. Do I have bowls at home? Yes! Do I have spoons at home? YES. Do I have milk at home? YES! YES! 1000 times YES! Why on earth would I leave the comfort of my home and pajamas, where I usually enjoy my Golden Grahams, to venture out to a restaurant where I have to wear real clothes and have strangers pour a bowl for me? Seriously- there are some idiots out there with waaaaaaay too much money to invest.
Monday, June 13, 2005
04:27 p.m.
Last week while I was driving, I saw a bumper sticker that read "Garbage Kills Bears" and had a picture of a bear reaching into a garbage can with one paw while holding up the lid with the other paw with one of those red circle cross out things over it. The sticker inspired many thoughts. First, I don't think it is so much the garbage taking out the bears as it is natural selection. Any creature dumb enough to EAT GARBAGE does not need to be breeding additional garbage eaters. Additionally, bear in mind (pun totally intended) that I saw the sticker in the middle of Austin. I have lived here for 25 years and in that time, have seen 0 bears. And the person had Texas plates. Know your audience, people. We don't have many bears in Texas, so we are not too concerned with their trash eating habits. Furthermore, what is this person's proposed suggestion? What are we supposed to do with the trash to keep it away from the bears? I know they make those animal proof trash cans, but why would I spend so much money in trying to save an animal that, once again, eats garbage? At any rate, we apparently had much smarter animals on our camping trip this weekend since, when presented with the option of trash or cookies, they not only chose the cookies, but opened the package to do so. They, apparently, were not stupid trash-eating bears.
Tuesday, June 7, 2005
09:53 a.m.
As the grand finale to Zach's birthday week, he decided that he would like to go tubing on the Guadalupe on Saturday. As usual, we got a later start than planned and had to stop several times (one of which to blow up my nemesis, the tube) and didn't arrive at the tubing place until almost 1:00. When I told the girl who worked in the office that we would like a 4 hour trip, due to the lateness, she subsequently signed us up for a trip that ended up being about 6 and a half hours long! 5 minutes later when Misty and Perry went to sign up, their request for a 4 hour trip was granted with, shocker, a 4 hour trip. However, being the sports that they are, they changed it to go with us. Now, tubing down the river with 17 people in your group for over 6 hours always causes interesting things to happen. We almost died when we took the wrong turn which led to a dam. Luckily some random folks saved us. The trip also involved getting split up a lot, which meant having to wait on other people a lot. This probably added more than a little time to our trip. But, in the end, we all got off the river intact (except for my toenail polish) and all seemed good. Except that my skin was burning. It wasn't sunburned because it was all the skin on the back of my body, which didn't see the sun. It literally felt like it was burning. I mentioned this to the tube stacker man and it turns out that I have "tube burn". What the? Yes, tube burn. Kind of like a friction burn from my skin being on the hot tube all day. My back, the area surrounding my elbows and the backs of my knees were bright red and in some serious pain. It still kind of hurts when I take a shower and stands as one of the weirdest injuries I have ever received. So beware people- if you think you are covered because you applied sunscreen in advance and then reapplied on the trip, you may not be. Next time I am taking Camille's advice and bringing a towel to put on the back of my tube to protect my skin from its burning gamma rays.
Monday, May 16, 2005
04:57 p.m.
Just for all you loyal fans out there- I won't explain my absence as I believe that it is probably due to unfunny things like being sad about the grandpa and being busy with end of school things, but I will just give a funny anecdote from the weekend. Actually 2. Anecdote 1: On Saturday Zach and I went to my large extended family reunion. We're talking 2nd cousins and great uncles here, people. We always have it on my great uncle's ranch and his ranch house leaves a bit to be desired, but serves it's purpose. We all eat at long tables set up in the living room. To get to the living room from the kitchen, you go down about 4 steps that are right in the middle of the room and are quite wide and in clear view of everyone. We were all at the table finishing up firsts when Zach went to get seconds. He gets up 3 of the stairs and then unexplainaby loses his balance, sending him backwards and onto his ass in front of about 30 of my family members. I think his face was as red as his hair!
Anecdote 2: After the reunion we went to a winery to make our own wine for Z's mom's 50th b-day. The winery was in Granbury so we spent the night in Fort Worth. The next day we met his sister, aunt and mom for lunch at Schlotzsky's before heading home. They had all been to church and his mom was wearing one of those breezy see-through tunic shirts with another shirt underneath it. The under shirt was kind of like a halter top- it had ties on it that went through some loops in the back of the tunic and tied across her back to keep it in place. Well, during lunch the ties came undone and the undershirt slipped down to where she was pretty much flashing all of Schlotzsky's. I, of course, noticed first and sat there, dying and staring at my sandwich for a good 5 minutes, for fear of looking up and laughing. I didn't really feel like it was my place to tell someone else's mom that their boobs were showing. I finally couldn't take it any more and excused myself to the bathroom. It was just after I left that Z's sister noticed the "wardrobe malfunction" and went with her mom to the bathroom to fix it. When they arrived, I acted clueless and bolted back to the table. So, I guess the moral of the story is to not have lunch with any of Zach's family unless you want to be mortally embarrassed.
Friday, March 25, 2005
09:42 a.m.
Last night in my post-6th street, semi-drunken pre-sleep, I was awoken by Zach saying "What are you talking about?" Apparently I had informed him that he had to "cut on the dotted lines" while I was unconscious. Yesterday in school we made these Texas booklets and my kids kept bringing them to be stapled without cutting them out all the way. I apparently said that phrase so much that now I have decided to inform people everywhere to cut on the dotted line so that others won't have to bear the burden of having their papers be unkempt. Who needed a 4-day weekend?
Friday, March 11, 2005
04:43 p.m.
So, for some odd reason, I have been finding myself watching a lot of makeover tv in the past 2 days. Last night it was extreme makeover family. At first I was worried that they were going to do all sorts of surgery on people under 20, but only the parents got extreme makeovers. The kids got mini extreme makeovers. Every time they said that I thought "isn't that just a plain old makeover? can't they just say 'makeover' instead of 'mini extreme makeover'"? Anyway, and today Will Smith and that fat guy that is in Hitch with him were on Oprah and they made over this guy who said he needed a date doctor. Does anyone else notice that Will Smith is not actually a date doctor, he just plays one in that movie? Anyway, the one over-arching thought that keeps popping into my head while watching these shows, is that no matter how many face lifts, brow lifts, nose jobs, boob jobs, liposuctions, rhinoplasties, lip enhancements, hair cuts, dye jobs, clothing consultations and makeup jobs you do, ugly is still ugly and even moreso than that, dorky is still dorky.
Thursday, March 3, 2005
08:32 p.m.
Alright, OC . . . did you think that you are just such a cool show that noone would notice you showing the same episode 2 weeks in a row? Come one, it is like, the only episode where it actually is raining. Also, did you somehow think that showing us 2 hours of reruns, one from last week and one from last season with, ick, Paris Hilton (just realized that was the 2nd Paris reference in as many posts, please accept my sincere apologies) would be something that we would enjoy? Seriously, first you steal all of One Tree Hill's story lines this season and now you're stealing your own from last week? How low can you go?
Wednesday, March 2, 2005
04:47 p.m.
My mom just called to let me know that she googled me today. I didn't even know that my mom knew how to google things or that it was hip to google your own name or the names of people that you know. Her voice sounded kind of comical in the message so, even though I have, in fact, googled myself before, (oh, like you haven't) I just had to google myself again right now to make sure that my name doesn't bring up pictures of me drunk or a list of every lie I have ever told or a list of all the things that I have done with boys and the names of the boys that I have done them with. Or, worst of all . . . this website! I am very careful to never tell very much about where I work, etc. and I definitely never use my last name on here so I don't know how it would come up, but still whenever your mom calls just to say that she has been googling you, you get a little paranoid. So, since turnabout is fair play and all, I decided that I would google her. Come to find out there is a German lady boxer (person who hits people for money, not dog) with her name. Also, she works where I already knew she worked and where I used to work (nepotism at is finest people! especially since there was a sign in the break room that said "clean up after yourself, your mother doesn't work here" and I always had to point out that mine did. not that I was messy in the work room, come on people, standards). Anywho . . . that was all there was. Nothing as interesting as say, googling Paris Hilton, but fortunately mine was not that interesting either and we all know what an exciting life I lead. So, I will just assume that my mother has just as exciting a life, although not well-chronicled on the internet, as I do.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
08:53 a.m.
I need somebody to come and kick my arse out of this chair so I go to the "Fitness Center" and work out! Anybody interested in the job? No children need apply- I get enough of yous all day long!
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
07:33 p.m.
Zach and I made a Valentine's Day exchange. Rather than giving gifts, I took him out for dinner on Saturday night and he took me out for dinner on Monday night. On Saturday we went to Trudy's (yum!) and had all sorts of good stuff. His friend from college was in town on Saturday night because he was running in the Freescale Marathon and needed a place to crash. Zach said that he could stay at his house, but that he was going on a "date" that night and wouldn't be able to entertain. Now, here's where my question comes in. What, exactly, entails a date? We have been dating for several months and go out to dinner quite often, so what distinguishes one of these events as a date while others are just dinner? This same problem arose quite often at Southwestern, where people were always "hanging out" and other such nondescript things. If two people plan to "hang out" at someone's room, and both prepare, is it a date, even if they don't go anywhere? If people cook dinner at home, is it a date? In this case, do married couples sgo on dates every night? Can a date include other people in part or all of the festivities? These are just some questions that we discussed this weekend, without coming to any definite answers. So, now I open the floor to you. Tell us what you think a date is or is not.
Monday, February 7, 2005
04:52 p.m.
So, I just have to proclaim to the world that I am the coolest girlfriend ever! (Don't worry, I got confirmation from Zach on that one before I wrote this.) This past weekend he went with his (single) brother to Mardi Gras. I didn't freak, I didn't forbid him to go or make him feel guilty. Heck, I even made them a "Mardi Gras Survival Kit", complete with snacks, Cokes, water, Gatorade, a camera, cards (for the improptu "Circle of Death" game- thanks Steph!), ibuprofen, Alka Seltzer Morning Relief (I think I got them addicted- they were taking it even when they didn't have hangovers), Visine, a first-aid kit and that's all I can remember now, except for that I packed it all in a little cooler. With them gone for the weekend (and the roomie in New York being a Ukranian bridesmaid- which I want a guest blog about!), I had ample time to 1) have a great girls' night out with friends from work and 2) spend some good Barbara alone time. Finally all of my pictures which, heretofore had been just leaning against the wall in the places where I was thinking of hanging them, have been hung. My laundry is done and all the things from it ironed. I finished my book. So, while my weekend may not have lived up to say, Bourbon Street, I thought it was a pretty darn good one (very relaxing). I am, however, very happy that Z is back, and I got a present! One of these. Except, mine is prettier. Instead of a big heart and crown sticking out, it is just a band with them engraved all around. I suppose that since I am the best girlfriend ever (see contents of MGSK above), I would deserve the best boyfriend ever. Yes, you can leave now to go puke. :)
Saturday, February 5, 2005
11:29 p.m.
Ok, so I really want to see this movieand I don't care what anyone says or thinks. I love Tommy Lee Jones and we all know how I feel about UT.
Saturday, February 5, 2005
11:21 p.m.
Ok, I swear that I finally got this to work right. Here are some pictures of me and my friends!
Monday, January 31, 2005
10:32 p.m.
Too exhausted to write much now. But, I had to share with the world that today I saw my boyfriend's mattress and box spring tip over, catch air and FLY out the back of his truck while on the frontage road of Mo-Pac. Luckily, the mattress flew into a business driveway. The box spring, however, met a much crueler fate when someone RAN OVER THE CORNER OF IT. Like, with their car and everything. So there is now a crushed part and some tire marks by where my feet go when we sleep at his house (I decided to take one for the team so as not to have the crushed part where his head goes- yeah, you wish you had a girlfriend like me. And yes, he kept it. If you know him, why are you even surprised?). Yeah, it is pretty hilarious now when I think about it, but at the time I was 1) grouchy, 2) embarrassed, 3) about to cry and 4) certain we would get arrested for failure to secure cargo or something like that.
Monday, January 24, 2005
04:56 p.m.
Every year around this time, they descend on us like locusts. All the places that you thought were safe- HEB, Wal-Mart, your school, your place of work, even Souper Salads! They are all clad in their battle armor, decorations on their chests boasting of all their past victories as they head into this newest fight. This time you are their target, their prey. It is you they seek and they will not rest until they find you and pick you dry. It's . . . the Girl Scouts, and more importantly, their cookies. Just when you had forgotten about the 12 boxes of Thin Mints that you single-handedly devoured last year, they show up everywhere that you are with their sales pitches and pitiful sob stories about trying to get to Georgia, where the Girl Scouts started. These aren't like those boxes of cookies from the store that you feel guilty about buying, oh no. Why, just look at the happy little faces of the girls on the boxes of the cookies (proclaiming, perhaps, the cookies' "secret ingredient"?). No, this is cookie charity, cookity, if you will. By buying a box, you are doing a good deed to promote girl power and all the other good things that the Girl Scouts promote (I wouldn't know, I never was one). Even though I groan evey year when this time comes, (teachers get asked to buy a box about a zillion times a day!) I am sure that I will have to buy a boz of Caramel Delites. Or maybe just 2 boxes of them. Yes, 2 boxes of Caramel Delites. And 1 of Thin Mints. Ohh, and the Peanut Butter ones are good too. Throw in a box of them. Which peanut butter ones, you ask? Both, I guess. And might as well try a box of the new ones and . . .
Thursday, January 20, 2005
05:26 p.m.
So, I heard on the news that good ol' W was on his 21st draft of his inaugural address. I call bullshit. First off, there is no way that you can convince me that he is actually writing it himself (without the use of crayons or some sort of Leap Frog device). At any rate, I understand it is important, but geez Louise, 21 drafts! They went through less tries than that when they were working on the Manhattan Project (I realize they probably went through many more, I don't need people to tell me that, it is called exaggeration). I also think that it is no coincidence that the number they gave was 21. We all know that 21 is the age where you can buy alcohol. And, 21 backwards is 12 and we all know that AA is a 12 step program that gets you to stop drinking. Whoever did that press release was speaking in code with his "21 drafts". Code broken: drafts = shots. And, he's just going to copy Millard Filmore's address because he figures that if he doesn't know who that is, then most other people won't either.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
04:29 p.m.
This weekend, I spent the majority of my time helping my sister renovate. I know that you are all wishing that we had been renovating her boyfriend, but it just isn't so. We were renovating her condo. She had a little situation with her last tenant (who we'll refer to as the crazy bird lady) so decided that she would just have to live there herself. Currently, she and her boyfriend, W, are living in his apartment, but as of February 1, they have to be out of there, so they have to be in the condo. I would say that she started from scratch, but I almost think that would be an understatement. She got new walls, new flooring, new counters, new tile, new fridge, new stove, new sink, new dispoal, everything is new! (once again, except W, sadly) Well, she has the walls, but not much else, so the whole fam had to go pitch in. That would be sister, W, Mommy, Daddy, Babs, and Zach all in a 1 bedroom condo, renovating for about 15 hours this weekend. There are several problems with this situation. First, nobody, and I mean probably not really even my sister, likes W. Z told me that all weekend, my mom kept making funny comments about him under her breath. While in front of my sister, my mom usually keeps her comments vague and delivers them jokingly, but when she's on the phone with me, she just says "W is an idiot". Also, W, although he is 37, has to be directed like a 5 year old. He had to be told exactly what to do and exactly how to do everything. Hey Buddy, get a clue! The rest of us are trying to work here. Next, my sister brought new meaning to "Type A personality". She insisted on getting a spot light and inspecting the paint in each room with said spot light. Umm, I am all for doing things right the first time, but think about it . . . how often do you go into someone's house, bust out your spotlight and criticize their paint job? N-E-V-E-R, that's when. Another problem was that while I was scraping the floor, I scraped my knuckle and it is really ugly now. :( I ended my days exhausted, covered in dirt and paint and knowing that when I buy a home, the first requirement will be that all the colors in it will be the colors that I want, so that I don't ever have to go through that again.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
05:46 p.m.
Aack! I did leave out December. Thanks for noticing, Joi. It goes right before January. I didn't leave it out because it was unmentionable or anything, so don't worry! And, as long as we're talking crazy here, December is not ranked higher because it has a a few major holidays in it and I like for things to be a bit more spread out.
Monday, January 10, 2005
04:54 p.m.
While at Happy Hour on Friday (which was left out of Misty's Weekend Update, WTF?), I was informed by again, Misty, that I had mentioned at least three things which were blog-worthy. I can only remember 2 now (I wonder why) and I don't feel like explaining the movies I am going to make so I will go with my birthday theory. Before I start, this is not meant to offend anyone. I don't know where I came up with this and I certainly don't judge people by it (usually)! Ok, here goes:
The very best date to have a birthday on is the first. There's no fooling around with 2 numbers, and nobody forgets (hmm, was it the 24 or 26?). Also, you don't have to wait any of your birthmonth to get to your birthday. This may also have something to do with the fact that I am born on a 1st. But, my sister and boyfriend are also, and they rock out, so that is further proof. If you are not lucky enough to be born on the 1st (poor souls), then the next best thing is to have a single digit birthday. These are close to the 1st and they are also pretty easy to remember. A good example of these people would be Stephanie. She is also cool because she is Oct Oct. Next we go with the dates my parents were born on, 16 and 29. These would be people like obviously, my parents, Misty, my cousin, and Sarah. After those dates comes the 11th. That is a good day because it is 2 ones and we already talked about how good the first is. An example of this is Ebony or my Grandfather. After 11 comes multiples of 5. I just like multiples. I am a math person, so get over it. Matt is a 25th. After that, the other numbers are pretty much even.
On to months. The best month to be born in is obviously, November, once again because it is when I was born. After that comes the fall months: September, October. Then summer months: June, July, August. Then winter and spring: January, February, March, April, May. And, if you're wondering, yes I do like them in the orders that I listed them. Except in the case of months that start with vowels. They go to the end of their category. Just because I don't really like them. A's are more offensive to me than O's. Also, if you were wondering, there really isn't a rhyme or reason to the months, just some kooky thing that I cooked up.
Once again, if you are stuck with a "bad birthday", don't fret. Some of my favorite people have less than desirable birthdays. (None are like April 22 or anything though, I have to draw the line somewhere). It doesn't mean that I won't get you a present or anything. In fact, I will probably get you a better present to help you forget the actual date. But, I do plan on having my own children on desirable days. Don’t' feel bad that your parents didn't know about them, it takes a lot of free time to come up with my system!
Monday, January 3, 2005
04:30 p.m.
So, I have lots of resolutions (mostly the usual stuff, along with a promise to "not be crazy"- we'll see how well that one goes!) But, my super special blog-olution is to stop being so boring and to write on here more. I would say something like "write once a week", but then what if I won like, a cool ski vacation for 10 days and then I wouldn't be able to enjoy it because the whole time I would think about how I broke my resolution. Because sorry folks, but I am not blogging on a free 10 day ski vacation, no matter what. So, more will have to suffice.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
07:19 p.m.
I've been saying they should do this for years! Finally MTV caught up with me!
Tuesday, December 14, 2004
04:36 p.m.
I was going to write a funny entry about how OLD I am but then I tried to copy it into Word because I wanted to use bullets and I don't know how to do that except in Word and then my entry got lost somewhere in cyberspace. If you find it, please direct it back to Texas. Maybe I'll try to summon up some more wittiness tomorrow.
Saturday, December 11, 2004
01:39 p.m.
I just noticed on Yahoo! videos that this week's new "featured video" is one from Eminem called "Like Toy Soldiers". At first I thought I was very up on the times because, although the claim was that the video was brand new, I could have sworn that I was familiar with the song. Then I wracked my brain to come up with the words. When I thought of them, I realized that the voice in my head singing the lyrics was a girl. 2 problems there- Eminem is not a girl and he doesn't sing. I realized that I was not in fact, up on the times with knowing Em's new song, I was just remembering Martika's hit from the 80's of the same name. Now, I haven't heard Eminem's version, but I seriously hope it is a cover of the old one. Ok, ok I realize that is highly unlikely. But, everyone knows how rappers love to sample old 80's hits behind their rhymes. Maybe Em has had the ingenuity to do that because, you know that would be a freakin' hit! Eminem and Martika- weird names, but a winning combination nonetheless!
Tuesday, December 7, 2004
06:45 p.m.
Don't get me wrong, I like Old Navy. They have cute clothes for cheap, t-shirts with witty slogans (my newest proclaims "I vote for Happy Hour") and unexpected "goodies", like purple pencil sharpeners, rockin' Holiday CDs or retro picture frames. However, Old Navy commercials generally make me want to dig my own eyes out of my head with a spoon and shove them into my ears (the eyes, not the spoons). I imagine a group of people sitting in a room and brainstorming the top 1,000 ways to annoy everyone between the ages of 5 and 90 who possesses vision and hearing. Here, in bulleted list form, are some of the things that annoy me most about their commercials:
• I don’t really enjoy when people rewrite the words to old songs. Particularly when they are singing “particularly teenagers” where “how lovely are thy branches” should be;
• To the bitch in the middle- You suck! You don’t have solos because you are good, you have them for the same reason that American Idol shows about 10 episodes of all the rejects before they get on with the real show- because people unwittingly embarrassing themselves sells;
• Guy in the back- you’re cute, you can stay;
• Fair-Isle turtlenecks are god awful;
• They’re not “sherpa boots”, they’re Fuggs (fake Uggs)- so stop frontin’;
• That kid who always has a line at the end- not cute, just a future child molester;
• And finally- LEG WARMERS ARE NOT BACK!!! Just because you found some Gap back stock from 1983 does not mean you should subject people to that Fame look again.
Friday, November 19, 2004
04:33 p.m.
I know you are all sitting around wondering what the number one search result for "Sprewells vs. spinners" is. Well, it's . . . ME!!!
Friday, November 19, 2004
03:49 p.m.
I am trying to think of clever captions for this pic. So far I have:
"Do you like me? Check yes or no. Love, Saddam"
"Check out this caricature of Bushie. It makes him look really dumb doesn't it? Very lifelike."
"What do you think of her boobs on me?"
"How do you pronounce this word again?"
Other suggestions welcome!
Thursday, November 18, 2004
04:29 p.m.
We got a letter in the mail this week from Geico. It was addressed to "Sensible Driver". Huh, there must have been a mix-up at the post office because there are no sensible drivers at this address. Good drivers, yes. Effective drivers, sure. But, sensible is not a word that I would use to describe us. Take Stephanie for instance. I have been in the car with her when she has called people words that I blush at, or phrases that she has created with such fine-tuned skill that I would almost be impressed at her dexterity if I were not spending 15 mintutes trying to decipher exactly what it is she just said. But don't get me wrong, I have my own faults. I routinely shake my fist at other drivers when they wrong me (throwing the bird can get you shot) and I have been known to declare that I am going to follow someone home when they really screw up. I am not saying we're crazy here, just that there may have been a bit of a mix-up in the mail somewhere because sensible we are not.
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
04:29 p.m.
This morning I learned that the "Lose My Breath" song is not actually a "Beyonce" song, but a Destiny's Child song. Was it hard for anyone else to tell the difference? I also learned that the song was called "Lose My Breath" and not "Baby Boy" which is what I thought it was called because it says that a lot, but then I realized it also says lose my breath about a billion times.
I also found out that Destiny's Child's new album came out yesterday and is entitled "Destiny Fulfilled". Is it just me or is that title kind of final. Is Beyonce finally giving Kelly and Michelle the boot for good? I can see them thinking up names in the studio:
B: How about Destiny Fulfilled?
K: Umm, that's nice, but what do you think about Destiny Continues?
M: Or Destiny Infinity?
B: Or Destiny Fulfilled.
K & M: Sounds good to us.
Anyway, word on the street is that yesterday DC was on 106 and Park and Michelle bit the dust. Maybe Beyonce sabotaged her in an effort to get back to her solo career. One down, one to go.
Lastly, a random thought from my drive home: "That guy walks like this midget I know."