Sorry I Can't Hear You I Was Humming-

Just call me Dr Jones, Doll

2010-06-06T11:58:00.000-07:00

There's this guy I call the ginger giant, why? Because he's got red hair and he's quite tall. The relationship that I share with the ginger giant involves me acting like an idiot in his presence. I know what you're thinking, oh good! Well, it does work in your favor. So I run into him here and there on Wednesday nights when I volunteer for church, I do something stupid and then avoid being around him for the rest of the time he's there. Last Wednesday he happened to be there and through the whole of the night I'd managed to not be a complete prat. Phew! Sadly had started to count my chickens before they hatched. I was one of the last people to leave so I put my ear phones in and headed to the subway, swiped my card and walked onto the platform. I looked to my right and who do I see? 2 girls I work with chatting with the ginger giant. Well, they saw me, I had to be social now, I slowly walked over while I took my earphones out said hi as the train pulled into the station. We all got on the packed train and ended up standing in our little group. We all started chatting and the train pulled out of the station. I was still in the midst of putting away my music and ear phones, which I always detach from my music due to an issue with a previous ipod where I lost the function of one of the ear buds due to compression on one of the boards somewhere in the device due to earphones staying in all the time and being wrapped around it.
My left hand expertly found it's way to the pocket where I store my iphone and my left hand patiently waited for it's turn to put away the ear buds. Suddenly the train jerked and I found myself loosing what little balance I had. With cat like reflexes my left hand jumped forward for the poll just in front of me, and the ear buds, dutiful to the laws of physics came along with it. Unfortunately I hadn't put the bulk of the ear buds into my hand and just had one portion of the cord, thus allowing the ear buds to fly out in a perfect arch and due to its loyalty to physics and centripetal force the ear buds continued to arc through the air and come back toward the poll where I held on tightly. They flew fast, they flew hard and they flew just millimeters away from some dude's face. As I saw the ear buds get dangerously close to this guy's eyes my own eyes bulged out in shock, horror, amazement and fear. Luckily for everyone involved, ie me, the ear buds and the guy I was so close to blinding, the lad didn't look up and without knowing it saved his sight. There was nothing I could do but watch as the ear buds kept flying through the air until they came to rest tightly wrapped around the poll and my hand.

It was over! We all made it out alive and the train was on a stable path. I relaxed a little and released my grip on the poll, probably with a little too much force as the reverse of what I'd previously watched with eyes in horror replayed itself. Why did I have to repeal my grip so quickly? It may have had something to do with the rising of color in my cheeks at my stupidity, and the never fail situation of making an arse of myself in front of the ginger giant.

What did my travel companions have to say about my epic abilities? Well, in what I think is a way to help me not feel like an arse was to start talking about using a whip to hold your balance on a train, just like Indiana Jones.

I didn't take offence when the guy I very nearly blinded got off at the next stop.

Riding the Subway is Like a Box of Chocolates, You Ne'er Know What You're Going to Get!

2010-02-26T15:07:00.000-08:00

With all of these snow storms whizzing their way around the city the subways are bound to have a few delays. Who is to say that these delays aren't a little like Christmas and as fun as a sunny afternoon in the park?
On a very particularly wet Thursday I was trying to catch the 6 train after work so I walk into the subway and see the platform full. Hmmm, I says to myself, I think I'll walk down to the end of the train so there will be a better shot of getting on the next train that comes trucking into the station. As any other impatient person standing on the platform, which is everyone who has lived in NY for more than 4 months, I lean over the edge to check for the lights at the dark end of the tunnel. After a few minutes my faith in the MTA, that there will always be another train, is once again confirmed as the lights came into view and I stepped back behind the yellow line to safely await my sliver express. To my dismay, the train was packed tighter than a can of sardines. Well I went against all other instincts to push my way onto the train, as we all know there is always room for one more. However, this was the one exception. I decided that the luxury of not being sandwiched by 23452 strangers was the primary objective for the evening, so I didn't bother with this train. My fellow subway riders on the platform were of the same mind and we all waited while the doors closed and the train went on its way.
Then the waiting game resumed, and pretty much every 30 seconds you tilt your head over the side of the platform to see lights down the tunnel hurdling toward you at unknown speeds. Literally, you don't know how fast they're coming because it's so far away and all black. But eventually the next train did come into the station and low and behold it was the same situation. Train packed to the gills. I still decided it was too much of sardines for me, however, this time the folks on the platform didn't as such agree with me, and they were set to get on the train. 4 people pushed their way into the train and the last guy had all his weight leaning toward all the riders of the train, yet his backside still hung heavily out of the train door parameters. That's when the bells rang letting everyone know that the doors were going to shut. The doors started to close, sadly for this guy he wasn't quite to one side to only deal with 1 door, he was sort of off to one side but in the way of both doors. I figured that the doors would try to close once and then open again for this guy to get his booty out of the way. But the doors were set on getting shut, and not giving second chances. The left side started its journey to the meet the right door, which got stuck only a few inches into its journey and contacted the man in the way. The right door promptly opened a little, and it was at this moment that the left door made contact with the guy, who incidentally was blocking its final resting place. When the left door opened the right door gave closing another go, and obviously hit the guy again because he hasn't moved any which way. The right side opened a bit again as the left side hit the guy again, then the right side, then the left side, then the right side, then the left side, then the right side, then the left side, then the right side, then the left side. I couldn't believe my good fortune as I wasn't the bloke in the door getting kneaded like they were in a bread maker but got to witness this beating first hand.
Now I know some of you would say that I'm prone to exaggerations, but I don't exaggerate the really funny things, obviously because they don't need any additional bits to make it funny. But this went on for 20 seconds. I couldn't keep a straight face, neither could the girl next to me on the platform. Someone took pity on him and let him into the train, all except his bag strap which they didn't bother to try to get inside the train. Once the lardy bloke was in they took what they could get and off they went.
On my next subway ride home that evening I was reading one of the Georgia books, "Dancing in my Nuddy Pants", a title that I haven't particularly had any embarrassment reading on the train due to my laughter comatose which inhibits me from looking around the train and catching any reactions from the title that I just can't keep hidden. The oldie bloke that I was perched next to on the train took the opportunity right before my stop to say, "That's a funny title." "Yes, yes, it is." I didn't particularly want to talk to him about my book that dealt with dancing, alone, naked. But he sure wanted to talk about it. I guess what I should have said was "Look lardy old bloke, it's a teen series that I thank the good Lord for everyday, and yes the title isn't as such one that would be American. I have to go now." Instead I found that ignorevousing was a great tactic. It ne'er fails.

You Best Recognize

2010-02-21T11:24:00.000-08:00

In a city where the number of pedestrians out numbers the average amount of cars on the road pedestrians can get a little cocky. Sadly enough, the first thing that you learn about crossing the street is the first thing that you forget; there is no looking right or left for cars, you step off the sidewalk without breaking your stride. Cars are an after thought, generally when you hit the middle of the road you think: "hmm, I wonder if there are any cars speeding in my general direction..." and it's this point where you'll take a glance. On smaller streets you're generally fine, it's those larger intersections that can be a little tricksy.

The ankle express has some advantages, take stop lights. When 15 people all cross the street against the light at one time the cars have the choice of either plowing through a crowd of people, or stopping against their green. Generally they choose to lay on their horn, slow down, curse under their breath (or quite loudly), sometimes add a hand gesture, then wait for the masses to disperse. TADA you cross the streets and are on your merry way without any further delay!

However, when the number of pedestrians to cars falls in the opposite direction, cars tend not to stop. There's just the horn, maybe they'll slow down, but when it's 1 on 1, car v pedestrian, the winner is always the car and the pedestrian has to try their darnedest to get out of its path. And sadly, I've seen it go both ways.

All of this of course is except when you're in Harlem. In Harlem, the rules all change, in fact, there are no rules except all for 1 and 1 for 1 and I'm the 1. The fact of the matter is, when someone steps off the sidewalk in Harlem, they don't look left, they don't look right, they look straight, put one foot in front of the other and keep on trucking. When that old familiar horn rings out, sure, they'll look, they'll even get out of the way, but not without being completely put out. Where on earth did that car think it had the right to continue on its path when I'm in the middle of the street?? (Sure, crossing against the light, but hey...) The audacity of those cars-

Am I a culprit of this new law that is less of order and more of chaos? Oh sure, but I don't take as much offense as the bloke I saw today. He and his lady were trying to cross the street against the light and a car was not about to give them the right of way, and he had quite the fit. Other than that it was quite a beautiful day in the neighborhood.

All of these fun scenes only deepens my love for sociology and observing social interactions and reactions. So thank you New York, I wonder what you have in store for me tomorrow...

PS I ran into the Fashionista on the bus this morning. He said hi to me and I couldn't for the life of me recognize who he was under all the flare: hat, glasses, beard, scarf, and interesting coat. There was no face to recogize, it was only by putting all of his flare together that I put together the mark of the Fashionista and could return the salutation.

Sandwiched Between the British Isles

2010-02-12T19:37:00.000-08:00

I'm not one that's been known to embrace mornings. In fact, I'd go as far to call mornings my arch nemesis and I'll call my alarm the most annoying sound in the world, hands down. Am I the only one that would categorize this relationship as doomed? Not as such, just ask my roommates who know not to talk to me, in fact they know pretty much not to even acknowledge my existence in the mornings and just let me roll out of bed, take my 5 minutes in the bathroom and be on my way to the train 15 minutes after rolling out of bed.
Even on sunny warm mornings I'll take my surly walk to the subway dodging kids on their way to school and other on their way to work. I'm not sure the how effective the guy standing outside the subway entrance handing out the AM New York is, but everyday the dude is like "AM New York?" and thrusts it in my path.
I know this good man is just trying to do his job, so I say "No thank you." However, if this is said at an audible level I couldn't really tell you, some days it's a mumble, some days it's said in my head and I think my lips moved. But there are some days when I actually enunciate and get the words out.
What's the worst part about the subway? Other than people, who may or may not fit in the open space sit down on the edge and slide ever so slowly until their backs are flush with the back of the seat and shimmy their shoulders so they push your shoulders just enough so that you're now shoulder to shoulder with them whether you like it or not, and yes, sometimes that is their elbow resting on your hip bone. But the worst is having to listen to inane conversations between people who yell across the cars or talk just a little too loudly, or even worse, high school kids.
I found myself in just this position one especially surly morning. These two girls had sat down on either side of me at Columbus Circle and I was like, please, please don't let them know each other and want to have a chat. And, of course they did.
I cursed the morning and widened my eyes in disbelief and contemplated whether or not the girls would be offended if I turned up my ipod. Then I decided, did I want to even move? No was the answer. I thought I'd be nice and not that person on the train that can't handle being in public, but of course I was still put off.
And that is when I heard it. The sweet vowel emphasis that is so different from the American version. And then the response had it too! My heart quickend and I was glad that I didn't turn up my music, if I did I wouldn't have been able to take the next 3 subway stops to determine where the accents came from.
My ear for accents has been retired since I've moved back from the UK, unfortunately. So I can't say where in England someone lives anymore and it takes a few vowels for me to determine Scottish vs Irish, if the brogue isn't too thick.
It's amazing the rate at which my mood changed as those young lasses chatted and how I was so intent on hearing a conversation, when mere minutes before I would have rather have died than heard the slightest peep. But I'll tell you this for free, being able to determine that one was Scottish and the other Irish made my geart fill with pride and just being sandwiched in between the Brisith Isles made me feel at home, and made the start of a great morning.

Come Hell or High Water, or a Blizzard CCFA will Come Through!

2010-02-09T20:40:00.000-08:00

I'm pretty sure that's what the US postal service slogan meant, or the Pony Express, so why has CCFA determined to make it theirs? I'm not sure, but barring a declaration of a Sate of Emergency the 6-10 inches which threatens the city won't keep their doors closed. What about the people who live in Jersey and Long Island you ask? Not to mention Brooklyn and the other boroughs? Well they pretty much have a free pass. No real need to make their way in, but those who live in Manhattan?
Forget your free snow day but look forward to the steller snowball fight we're going to have in Madison Square Park!
I do have to admit that I am a little excited about that. Watch out on the snowballs that Des throws, I wouldn't be surprised if she didn't put tiny rocks in there...I call her to be on my team!

How? And Why? Why and how??

2010-01-26T20:07:00.000-08:00

I've lost the other button...

That's not my coat button on the floor of the subway!

2010-01-22T19:29:00.000-08:00

Umm, turns out it was. When riding the subway one day I looked down after I had taken my seat and saw a button on the floor. I thought, oh poor sucker, it's a shame they lost their button. Wait, it's not mine, my coat has toggles on it. Whew! Sadly turns out, the cute bit on the back of my jacket doesn't have toggles, and is now missing a button and as such is limply hanging on by a mere button. Au revoir mon petite button, say hello to the safety pin that is now holding your place.

Fashionista

2010-01-10T17:32:00.000-08:00

I'm not sure why this guy in my ward decides that he needs to dress like a pimp, especially in the middle of winter. I know we go to church in Harlem, but really, are we buying into perpetuating stereotypes to the point we do at church? I am glad that he feels comfortable with himself enough to sport the long coat with the fur collar and the zoot suit hat. The feather wasn't there today, but I'm sure he had it in his pocket.
Now, I'm sure you're going to say he's gay. But, I'll tell you this for free. No gay man would ever find himself dead in that outfit. It would be one thing if this were a single occurrence, however, the steady repetition of shoes and hats and jackets and the cut of his suits leads one to believe that dressing like a pimp is a learned habit. So now you're thinking, how do you see him every week and not laugh at the ensemble?? Well, it's tough. He always seems to catch my eye and I think, Oh look, there's a pimp walking down the street. Then I see his face, and I'm like oh, it's what's his name. A chuckle into my scarf and a shake of my head I head over for a quick hello. I'd give more details, but I'd like to protect the identity of the pimp that goes to my ward. And as a status as a pimp with the ladies, well that's not concurrent either.

Theres a bit of geek in all of us

2010-01-08T19:51:00.001-08:00

I have a few favorite websites that I like to visit, and they're set up to give me highlights on my igoogle page. And here is just a glimpse why.

wikihow.com
A website full of useful information, anything and everything you've ever wanted to know how to do is there for you to read, watch a video, and try for yourself. The latest and greatest info it's given me was yesterday's post: How to gleek.
I know people generally learned how to gleek in jr high. But I could never get it down. So now, I have detailed instructions to finally learn how to do this fun party trick.
Well I came across this gem whilst at work so there I sat at my desk trying to gleek. Did I manage to finally learn the mechanics to achieve my lifelong dream?? Not as such. I think I actually hurt that gland that was supposed to secret to saliva because I was pushing too hard. Talk about no pain no gain.

wired.com
Now, I know what you're thinking. This is a geek magazine where it talks about programing and building better faster computers and bragging about what systems they have been able to hack. Well I'm here to open your eyes to this online magazine. It's full of information on very interesting things, does it deal a little with programming? Sure, but I don't read those articles. Not to mention the articles sometimes come out of left field and are funnier putting peanut butter on the end of a dog's nose and watching them lick it off. Case in point. Today there was an article that talked about traffic tickets in Switzerland. I don't recall the title but it said the fine was $250,000. I don't know about you, but I'm vair vair interested in finding out what traffic violation costs that much. Turns out this dude flew through some small town in his Ferrari topping the speed limit by 35 kph. Now first, you're an idiot for bringing that much attention to yourself and second, wait for it, traffic tickets are based off of a % of your pay grade. So he booked a $90,000 ticket. Then had the audacity to claim diplomatic immunity. To which the court fined him and now the ticket is $250,000. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Idiot. I'm sure he had the $90,000 in his wallet. In the end the law isn't as cold and hard as they come out to be. He has to pay half of the fine and the rest will be forgiven for good behavior.
Now, who would have thought this was in Wired??

Reasons I don't want to Twitter

2009-11-30T17:44:00.000-08:00

1. I'm wordy, I can't be bothered by the limitations and restrictions that Twitter imposes on everyone with its limited spaces.

2. I don't really want to make announcements when I head to the toilet.

3. I don't think I want to be associated with anything that has to do with having followers tracking when I head to the loo.

4. I can't be bothered to give constant updates, besides, isn't that what status updates are for on gchat and FB?

5. I can't be arsed to read everyone else's tweets.

6. If you want me to meet you somewhere, text me, and hope I'm not in the subway because I won't actually get the text until I get out.

WWTBD? (what would the bard do?)

2009-11-17T14:17:00.000-08:00

There’s all sorts of new technology, but the truth is I’m in lurve with my own handwriting. Not the hurried hand that scribbles when my boss is running off at the mouth and I’ve become responsible for every small drivel, but the slower hand, the hand that writes at the rate of everyone’s mind. The art which I spent many years and many teachers perfecting still changes and evolves as I continue to add elements of people I admire. I have to say the most influential people on my handwriting have been my freshman through sophomore swim coach and my dad.
Dez, just Dez was awesome. She was a writer, she was a swimmer and funnier than that time Lisa scared the crap out of me in the middle of the night and I yelled like a ninny for 5 minutes while Lisa laughed her arse off. I’m not sure if I were to meet her again if she wouldn’t live up to my memory, like somehow when you go back to visit your childhood house and it doesn’t seem as spacious, the colors aren’t as vivid, the stairs leading to a plain old place. Dez was a great inspiration to me, I worked hard at swimming for her, not for me, or my team, but she believed in me and winning races is what I could do for her. But her hand written meet assignments with her crisp hand and precisely turned g’s and y’s. It revolutionized my learned hand from large bubbles to dot my I’s and bubbly y’s large print to a more refined, idea of where I wanted to go.
I’ve always admired my dad’s signature, you couldn’t read it to save your like, you could pick out a G, a K and a D, the rest were just lines laid out strategically and mystically. To which my signature slowly morphed from loops to a more dignified and unreadable name with a hint of the possibility of a belonging to a doctor, where you can pick out an A and a D but what’s in the middle? You can’t even find the J, that’s ok don’t worry about it; I’m not entirely defined by my middle name, nor it’s heritage. However, my heritage I do enjoy.
The life of my handwriting was really born in the beginning of high school in between freshman and sophomore year, maybe even on my 15th bday, that ‘s when the change was made, a new me a new hand. Sure there have been some adjustments to it, growing smaller, getting sloppier, but at the essence of all things it is still intact. Still distinctive. Still enjoyable. What happens when technology threatens to take it away from me? I find myself torn between the new technology, editing by hand, writing by hand and switching back to the computer. They’re interchangeable now, the computer and the hand.

Remember the time I got pants-ed by the bishop’s kid? I do- every time I wear that skirt.

2009-09-08T20:56:00.000-07:00

I’d have to say that is the best babysitting story that I have. The kids were sweet, but man they got riled up when it was time to go to sleep. The best part is that it happened 2 years ago. I wasn’t a novice babysitter. It wasn’t the first time I’ve had more than 1 kid to look after. It was however the first time I wore a skirt babysitting, it appears that I really did know everything when I was younger, but the older I get the dumber I get apparently. So here’s a heads up for the lot of you. Don’t wear a cotton skirt that slides easily on and off when you’re babysitting hyper girls, especially if you have to lift one of them into the top bunk leaving yourself open and defenseless on the bottom half. And really at that point what do you do? One kid in the air, the other rolling on the ground in humorosity convulsions, your hands in the air and your skirt at your knees.
I sort of equate this to buyer’s remorse. You go into a shop and you know you shouldn’t because most likely you’ll buy something, but you hope that all the cute stuff doesn’t look cute on you when you try it on so you won’t have to go through the battle of do I buy this or put it back on some random hanger in the shop? You win (your hands in the air) but the savings you’re supposed to be putting away go to a savings of clothes in your closet (your skirt around your knees). Sure the clothes are sweet and just add to your kickin style (kid in the air) but your laundry list of fall purchases could do without this kickin piece (the irony is the kid in snorting with laughter in a ball on the ground). I could call it savings, like I have savings, it’s just not in paper or electronic dollars. It’s in wool, cotton, poly and stretchy blends hanging on the rack in my room (that’s right, I don’t have a closet in my room, it’s down the hall and I can’t be bothered to go down there every time I get dressed. To be sure I can’t even be bothered to hang anything up that I take off in my room.)
So the question is what did I do with the little perp? I took her and her sister to the zoo, complete with zoo attire that would stay snug in place barring unforeseen incidents…

Retro TV with a new spin- the solution to really really bad new ideas.

2009-09-02T20:07:00.000-07:00

Lately the city is littered with advertisements for a new tv show that was way cool in the 90’s, and when I say way cool what I mean is slightly interesting and on after 90210, which was really the cool show, and sadly enough has been redone as well with ultimately the same lack of quality. I mean come on, even Brenda and Dylan waited until prom and these kids are out there giving it up to everyone who looks at them twice. I think you know what show I’m talking about now, that’s right, Melrose Place. Now, we all know I’m never going to watch the show but that’s not to say that I don’t wish the show and everyone on it success. Which is why I wanted to offer them this marketing idea, they have a great start with pictures of the actors with their hands all over each other. I’m sure there’s some action packed tear jerking drama in the show too, but I think they’re aiming more towards the frat boys and sorority girls on this one.

Open scene: Cue romantic steamy music, camera scans apt complex courtyard, steam billowing up from the pool that sits in the middle of the courtyard. Cue actors to start steaming it up with their acting talent ie: making out.

Cut to a clip of Arrested Development GOB pitching ideas to Sitwell

GOB: “I call it F@#! City” (Extends hand for high five from Sitwell)

Cut back to steamy scene in the courtyard.

Cut to clip of Arrested Development GOB still pitching ideas to Sitwell

GOB: “How do we filter out the teases? We don’t let them in.”

And Scene.

Here’s to a great season.

Well that last post was all Pants

2009-08-31T18:21:00.000-07:00

There was a lot of talk in that last post, yes I realize that it was in January and today is the last day of August, but it's all pants is what it is. But devil take the hind most, I'm not talking about it anymore.
On to bigger and better things. namely this last week when Eileen came home with a puppy. Let me tell you about this puppy. He's about the size of my palm, has little puppy breath and here is a list of his favorite things:
chewing on toes, chewing on noses, crawling up whom ever is sitting on the couch to get to said noses and necks to chew and paw with little puppy nails. He can sense that you're extremely ticklish on the neck he seeks you out and makes it a point to get you, especially when you have something in both hands and can't protect yourself. He also likes to cuddle into cleavage. Mostly Eileen's.
The good news is that camp is over, and I just need to give a shout out and a huge TGIF to camp and it's endless supply of sex gods. Ne'er fails each location has some eye candy. Now, I don't in know if I want to admit to this, in fact I think I won't. I'll let your minds run rapid with the image of sex gods emulating their status doing a lip sync to "all the single ladies" in short black shorts and sports bras stretched to their limits on their football field sized backs and their mile long davids on full display. Yup, this is a kid's camp. You can't really blame them for being hot, no more than you can blame all the little girls who had crushes on them the rest of the week. But really camp is now equated with Christmas. It comes once a year, is full of fun times, presents just for me!

2009-01-10T11:16:00.000-08:00

GOOD NEWS! As you know since I haven't posted since September and it was all just a rant and rave about my knee and all sorts of pain. There has been a breakthrough! The knee isn't swollen, and I can finally do stuff again. TGIF. And when I say the knee isn't swollen, I mean that as in I woke up today and the knee finally wasn't swollen. Now all I have to do is build up the strength and get rid of the knots and I'm golden. I sure hope my balance comes back some time soon. It's sure been good times standing in the subway, at times it was sort of like pin ball where I was the ball.

Some other good news is that on a lucky Sunday I came into a new turtle. Little did I know when I woke up that fine fall morning and headed to church that on my way home through Harlem I would come across, not a gypsy selling magic beans, but a chinawoman hawking turtles. 2 for $10. I was like lady, I don't have a tenner, but I do have a fiver! She wasn't into haggling, I think she needs a little lesson from the street vendors in Cape Town. The fiver got me a sweet little turtle and a terrarium the size of the fiver bill. In light of the short life of Sherpa I decided to let Darby earn a larger living space. After the 3 months that we've had together I think he's earned an upgrade. Although, he spends all his time sleeping. He's taking a sabbatical from his base jumping spelunking activities and just chilling. I just thank my lucky stars that I crossed paths with a street vending chinawoman in the middle of Harlem. I decided not to point out that one of us was in the wrong part of town, but when you think about it, maybe we both were.

Holy Rusted Metal Batman

2008-09-05T17:54:00.000-07:00

My knee is killing me. Wow, who said going to the dr makes everything better? All I can say is I felt like Gumby poked, pulled, poked harder, then hooked up to "stimulus" aka electric pluses. Sure the pain was gone for like 2 seconds, now I feel like gumby's leg has been sat on by Horton, whether or not he heard a Who. But really who cares whether or not he heard a Who? My knee hurts.

Ho Hum Pigs Bum

2008-08-26T15:57:00.000-07:00

Hola Chummies! Wow, what to say, what to say... Well I'm back from my camp adventures and well I fell in love a little, with a book series. I mean, I know I'm not a teenage Brit equivalent to Bridget Jones and that I don't have a cat I brought home from a Scottish holiday, but I'm enamored with the humurosity that is the life of Georgia aka Gee and her gang of rag tag, furry short wearing, lad lashing, nunga bouncing Ace Gang. Although I'm not a teen I do find that I still share some similarities with this heroine, I haven't had the good fortune to have my boy entrancers, aka my false eyelashes, get glued together whilst I was wearing them and chatting up a lurve god and have to excuse myself to catch my train and run into my friend who then started the congo line leading me around the dance floor blindly. But Gee and I do share one thing, and it's the firm belief that if it's silly, it's worth doing. And if you can sing a hymn and replace at least 5 words with PANTS, it makes worship that much more entertaining. And well then there's the humor of her pally Dave the Laugh, it just so happens that I have a friend Dave, and he's well, a laugh.

My hat is off to you Louise Rennison, we could have been amazing friends. I'm not promising the same antics as Rosie, but we could have gotten material for another 9 books. Maybe I'll try the sticky eyes on someone on the streets of NY and see if I can get him to follow me around. You may have answered my mother's prayers to me finding a husband, she may be buzzing you if this all works out.
And Bethany will also send many thanks for the Viking Dance we're going to do at her wedding.

Heres a sneak peak of what's coming across the pond from Billy a Shakespeare land
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3fpuZYQqFzg

George Michael, via con dios, via the porcelain lights

2008-07-25T20:05:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm sitting shiva again. George Michael, my beloved beta fish apparently had an appointment with the porcelain that he didn't tell me about. Sure, he was more abnormal than he has been lately, moody, refusing to eat when I entice him by rubbing the side of his bowl then jumps up to the surface and retreats back to the bottom of the bowl like a moody teenager. If he doesn't want to eat, then that's his decision you can lead a horse to water but you can't make him drink. He did a lot of snubbing of my roommate too, I just thought they were in a fight. So I guess what I'm saying is he didn't talk to me much toward the end. He didn't blow me any fish kisses anymore... I guess there are some phases you just don't make your way through.

At the swim off, when dust goes to dust, and aqua goes to aqua, I had everything prepared and fitted George Michael with his porcelain casket, when it just sucked him up completely, waooossshh just like that without words, without warning he was taken from me. All the yelling at the toilet didn't bring him back, there was no regurgitation out of respect. The NY sewer system is just as tough as its streets.

RIP my sweet sweet fishy.

Why So Serious???

2008-07-20T10:52:00.001-07:00

The Nolan's have outdone themselves yet again. The Bat Man was amazing, at first I was like wow, CB didn't bulk up for this one, that's ok, but we're still going to need to have a conversation about T3 (I mean, really?? That script better be kickin otherwise I'm going to have to find another Harvey Dent to believe in in Tinseltown.)

The script was great, let's talk about how well they did at portraying a crazy that doesn't care about human life and still keeping the flick PG-13.

And we need to give a shout out to Maggie Gyllenhall for making Rachel Dawes likable, but watch out for Catwoman (I'm thinking of submitting my head shot for that role)

Bale as always was great, the Bat's toys get cooler as the show goes on an the way it all comes together takes my breath away, that is when I remember to breath with CB is jumping off skyscrapers in Hong Kong without a parachute.

Ledger was great, amazing I don't have enough words to say just how he nailed the Joker. He was a little more open ended because you never really figure out how he got to be the way he is, this is one enemy that Batman didn't create.

Harvey Dent. In the other Bat movies I didn't really pay attention to him, what for? But Nolan's Harvey Dent, or should I say Aaron Eckhart's, was such a great guy, who in the end turned out to be human just like the rest of us.

At the end of all things the movie did depress me a little, but only because I want to be making these movies with the Nolans and writing a fab character that CB would want to portray. I do have a little something up my sleeve, so maybe I'll run into them on the street in NY and give them a little sneak peak and then the rest will be history...

Since I brought in the ellipsis let's talk about the lady at work who has a love affair with this gem but sadly uses it improperly... This drives me crazy. I mean come on, if you're going to be the one proof reading all our brochures, shouldn't you at least have your grammar down?? And while we're at it I just want to share one more thing, it's her love for sending emails and cc-ing like the entire office, in these emails she uses the word cannot at least once, but the sad thing is she spells it can not. I'm glad these things weren't on her resume, she might not have gotten the job...

PS the Coney Island bug made it on the National Health News Alert as some virus that is making its way down the state. I'm glad this only made me out of sorts and moody for 4 days, Sarah was betting it was a parasite and was going to put me through 2-6 weeks of issues. I think that is the last open water swim I do at Coney Island,

Go see the Bat, and do it on the IMAX

2008-07-14T18:33:00.001-07:00

Shoot the freak. Just shoot the freak, your momma didn't hug you enough as a child? Just shoot the freak...
Well at least that's the motto out at Coney Island. I think I spend too much time out there, or at least lately. I can't get enough of that darn roller coaster. I'm just not sure why I do open water swims out there. I think I may or may not have picked something up out there this last time, and I'm going to lean more to may than may not.

What can I say NY in the summer is awesome.

Bionic Powers

2008-06-27T13:40:00.000-07:00

Coney Island is back! They said last year was the last, since Disney acquired it and has their own plans, but here it is again. Nothing but good family fun times, great food and a clean enough atmosphere to eat off the boardwalk. But really, the only reason to go to Coney Island is... the Cyclone.

This rickety old wooden whip rolling thriller death trap is just about as old as the famous Nathan's hot dog stand on the boardwalk. Apparently Nathan's hot dogs are like the best ever. All this veterinarian knows is that since they put up their calorie content it looks like everything on the menu is a heart attack in the making.

Back to the roller coaster, after getting up at the butt crack of dawn to do an open swim out there with my roommate's tri team and a few hours catching some rays (PS my tan is looking good so far) it was off to the roller coaster as the Mermaid Parade had everyone else mesmerized. With the help of some new Team in Training friends we slid and twisted into the cars that were the size of my foot, but on the plus side the lap bar was padded. The thin metal 'oh crap bar' however, was not.

Little did I realized as I was whipped from one side of the car to the other on the hairpin turns and dropping headfirst into what could certainly be my emanating death that I would feel something that was better than Christmas. Yes, I said it. The ride was over all too soon and as we shimmied our way out of the car and to collect our bags the vendors were letting us know (nice way of saying they were yelling at us) that we could re-ride the historical monument for only $5, a deal from the original $8. A few steps later and the deal was down to $3. We were sold. Turns that give whiplash, drops that remind you what you ate for lunch, salt windburned lips that crack from the smile and or terror...Bring it on.

I think it was on this go that while I grasped the 'oh crap bar,' holding on for dear life that some metal shards became embedded into my thumb. I got most of them out, but thought it would be fine to be bionic for a day or 2 before the metal decided it was time to come out. I also wanted to see what sort of bionic powers I would get. Sadly, I didn't get to breath under water, run really fast, or see into the future. So I don't know what good this metal shard in my thumb is.

Wednesday I decided it was time to take matters into my own hands. If this metal sliver wasn't going to give me any bionic powers I was done with it.

Sadly, it never got infected or decided to come out on its own, so I did what I could. And it still doesn't want to come out and is only slightly infected because I have been trying to get it out.

So I guess I'm saying, there's still hope for bionic powers.

I heart AC

2008-06-05T17:50:00.000-07:00

I can't hide my affection anymore, I am in love with AC. It's so cool and soft on my skin that is barely holding my boiling insides contained. I am aware of the AC impact on the enviornment, and I wouldn't use it if I didn't have to, but, it's just so darn hot I can't go on living.
Well of course today it was cool outside, and I didn't need to get my new AC unit. But what an adventure that was. I got the best cab ride I have EVER had in my life, I was glad to pay for it all.
After a short day at work learning about "Customer Delight" which means being nicer to everyone, I walked down to the PC Richards in Union Square for their Memorial Day sale. Maybe we should tell them that Memorial day is over. But I'm glad that they were still having the sale because I got a deal. I looked at the units, checked the prices, and called my sister Kimmee so she could talk me into the cheapest unit.
The nice man was kind enough to bring the unit out from the back and ask me where I was parked. I told him the yellow car out front. We went to hail a cab at 4 and it was harder than I thought it was going to be. After a few minutes a cab pulled over and rolled down the window and asked where I was going. He was less than pleased with my destination and pulled away with what no one I know was ease. So it turns out that they can tell you no.
So I went back to the curb and the man waiting to put my new unit into the trunk and thats when the cab rolled into my life. This cabbie, however unpleased to be taking me so far uptown said he'd do it and be back before 5. I was like that is fine by me. then I noticed that he didn't have a card machine and I'm like we're going to stop at an ATM and he was a little annoyed and said do you want to do that now or later. I told him whenever he wanted to get paid.
And that is when the adventure started.
There was traffic everywhere, we were weaving, cutting cars off turning on hairpins getting on the highway making illegal turns to get off the backed up highway and then finally it was deemed that yes, Broadway was the best way to go. I did have to complement him on his mad skills behind the wheel. He took that as a sign to start in with the jokes, and I joked back. there was a short stop in front of a Bank of America so I could pay for the joy of this ride. And back into the flow of things we went. I heard things rolling back and forth in the trunk, I was hoping like the dickens that it wasn't my new AC unit. Then the cabbie started giving me tips on how to install my unit and he made sure that I could get it up the the apt.
After 30 minutes the unit was put together and in the window and blowing some cool air into the den of hades, aka my room.
And we lived happily ever after.

2008-05-17T20:24:00.001-07:00

I've been tagged?

2008-05-13T17:37:00.000-07:00

Sunny just told me I was tagged, in a sensible world that means I'm IT. But IT at what??

I guess it means she wants to know the answers to the questions below, I'm pretty sure she knows the answers though, but I'll give it a go anyway. They tell me that's the spirit.

A-Z Tag

Just for Sunny

Attached or Single: I'm attached to many things, singles aren't one of them.

Best Friend: I have a lot of best friends, I don't want to name them in case I leave one out. Just know that i love you all.

Cake or Pie: Pie

Day of Choice: There are so many choice days, like Monday, when for some reason the subway isn't as crowded. Tuesday because it isn't Monday. And Wednesday because I get to go to the temple AND leave work early, 30 min but sometimes it doesn't feel early. Thursday because that was the day Eli Stone was on, Johnny Lee Miller has always been a fav of mine. Friday because well I don't have to work the next day and Saturday because I get to sleep as long as I want to generally. And who doesn't like Sunday, the day of rest, the day of church and the day of family? But my family isn't here so I sit on the couch after I'm done with the long day of church and meetings. But I love it anyway. What would the week be without my cup running over at least once a week?

Essential Item: My island (and I don't mean Manhattan)

Favorite Color: Blue

Greatest Accomplishment: Jumping out of an airplane without wetting myself, or the guy I was strapped to.

Hometown:Fountain Valley, CA

Indulgences: Sugar. Fanta Cherry Slurpees. $12 movies (Yes, that is the price for all movies in the theater) and not wearing heels when everyone else around me is.

January or July: July. It's my bday and a holiday in and of itself.

Kids: Love them, and it's questionable that I may still be one.

Life is incomplete without: I'm sorry, are these one word answers?

Marriage Date: Is there something I should know about?

Number of Siblings: 4 and I miss the dickens out of them.

Oranges or Apples: Apples, red ones. Wait, do the oranges come with Nutella? FYI it only takes 3 oranges to clean out a bottle of Nutella.

Phobias or Fears: Being overrun by mice and or rats. clowns and little people clowns.

Quotes: "Don't worry the sharks can't get through the protective net" Daniel, 12 year old local at Boulder's Beach. Sometimes he told you he was British, sometimes he told you he was from South Africa and he slid in and out of accents. And the best news was everything out of his mouth was a lie, and he never stopped talking. --Sweet kid. I tried to get everyone to go back to the beach so we could invite him to the big wedding. Sadly I never made it and went to the wedding without a date.

Reason to Smile: Remembering having a jelly fish fight with Jody and Marshall at Muizenberg beach. See slide show for Jody and Marshall. Kee is working on uploading the video to her blog.

Season: Summer

Tag Five Friends: What if I don't have 5 friends on the blog scene? Can I tag Sarah twice and make up my own questions? Sarah, Keeley, Michelle, Sarah and Bethany. I'm going to throw my sister in there too. Kimmee. I guess Sarah doesn't have to do it twice, but I know she would have.
Unknown Fact About Me: I don't actually read all the way down on my emails from works. Shh don't tell the boss.

Very Favorite Store: The movie section of half.com

Worst Habit: Eating too much sugar. Oh wait, I thought it was what is my favorite worst habit...

X-ray or Ultrasound: What are we taking pictures of?

Your Favorite Food: Falafel from the shop in Leister Square

Zodiac Sign: Cancer

Choose for yourself which questions you answer.

Questions a la mode(Think of these more as personality defining and not just getting to know you questions.) Which Muppet would you be and which one would you kill first?Kiss underwater or a bear hug from a real bear?
Would you rather play Chopin on the xylophone or keep the beat on a jug?
Would your rather perform naked in front of millions of people OR Sip hot coco in a remote cabin with your girlfriends?
Would you rather slap someone that made you angry or spread a nasty rumor about them?
Swim with the sharks or with brine eating whales?Walk into a scene from Cheers where everyone knows your name or one from Saved by the Bell the New class where everyone is awkward?
Scale Mt Rushmore naked, or in a bodysuit?
Jump with a parachute or the new squirrel outfit?
Paper cuts or slivers?
Toe stubbing or eyelash in your eye?
Thumb in a pie or in your mouth?
If you were eating goat balls and your friend knew and you didn't would you rather have them tell you at the time or wait until you're finished?

Let me know when you're ready for the key.

Cheap Thrills

2008-05-12T18:13:00.000-07:00

So I met up with Kelerie who was on a mission, a mission for a deal in green in Target. She didn't get her green deal, but she did come out with all sorts of sweet finds. I on the other hand wasn't looking for deals, so while Kel was frisking the sales racks I found myself in the $1 section of Target, and who wouldn't want to look in the deals section. It was full of all sorts of summer fun, camping gear, picnic items, pool toys...Pool toys, that's where I stopped. 2 words, sling shot. Who passes up a sling shot for a buck??

Not this girl.

So I walked around the Target happy as a clam with my $1 sling shot and couldn't wait to get it home and use it. Oh, the hours of fun I was going to have with the plastic sling shot and the material slosh balls.

I forgot about it when I got home, because there was a fire a block away. Don't worry, I remembered it the next morning and went to shoot my roommate, and I pulled back on the string a smile spread across my face and SNAP, the darn thing broke.

If I actually had faith in the $1 products from the Target in the Bronx I would make the trek back up there for a replacement of my nifty toy. Sigh.