Friday, March 31, 2006

It's just not the same

I started thinking about milkshakes again. But again I didn’t want to drive anywhere. What an annoyance. So I went downstairs to the building’s deli to see what creamy things they had. I came back to my desk with yogurt. Yogurt. It is SO not the same. *sigh*

This is a dumb little dilemma. If you’re looking for someone with more impressive ones, check out my renter! She’s snarky, witty, and sometimes even makes sense! Highly recommended. You just might get hooked.

Runner's high my ass

Yesterday I got home from work and decided I needed to go for a walk. I hadn’t gone all week. So in a fit of “I really really should,” I leashed up the doggies and went out into the neighborhood. Normally I just do the fast walking thing for about a mile. On ambitious days I’ll go two miles. I can usually keep up the power walking pretty good.

Today the doggies decided they wanted to run. So I thought to myself, “They wanna run? Sure I’ll give it a shot.” So I start running. About half a block of this and I start to breath kinda hard. Yeah… *pantpant* This isn’t so bad… *pantpant* I’m feeling good… *pantpant* I can do this… *pantpant*.

By the time I reach the end of the long block my run as slowed into a jog and my breathing is increasingly labored. My legs are starting to feel a little weak. The cold air is starting to constrict my lungs, causing me to wheeze a bit. As I make the turn around the block I’m thinking, “NOW I remember why I don’t run.” How could I *pantwheeze* have forgotten? *pantwheeze* How does one *pantwheeze* forget this sort of *pantwheeze* torture?

I walk the rest of the way back home, panting and wheezing like the out-of-shape geek I am. Walking is good. Walking I can do. Just do it more than once a week so I don’t get these weird bouts of guilt which cause me to forget I hate running. Runner’s high my ass.

Thursday, March 30, 2006

I found a way to get rid of cravings.

I just got out of that meeting. I became antsy to get out of there for an entirely different reason. I got to sit next to someone with BO. It was nasty. My craving for milkshakes has officially been squashed.

I might be an addict

I’m feeling so antsy. It’s the kind of antsy feeling you get when you’re craving something but you have to go into a meeting in 15 minutes. I want a milkshake. There’s a McDonald’s across the street and I could go there, but I don’t wish to pump chemicals into my body. Plus I won’t go there on principle.  So in order to get a good milkshake I’d have to drive somewhere. But I can’t until after the meeting. Ohhh the torture.

Is this was drug addicts feel during withdrawal? I don’t have cold sweats, but there’s some weird nervous energy going on. I don’t like it. I hope the meeting is short.

Is it decorative or is it junk?

As I was driving in to work this morning, I was behind this car with a CDROM hanging from the rear window. It was giving off a few rainbow reflections and was sometimes kinda pretty. But then every now and then it would flash really brightly and blind me. The sun was behind us and reflecting directly off this CD right into my eyes. Okay you dumbass, who told you it was a good idea to hang shiny, reflective objects from your back window? Do you also have a video camera back there readily taping the carnage you leave behind as drivers are blinded and crashing into other drivers? Why don’t you hang that thing on your rearview mirror and see how YOU like being blinded by the sun? Oh you already tried that? And that’s why it’s in your back window? How brilliant and thoughtful of you.

The odd thing was this was a Lexus. Did you spend every penny on that car so now you can’t afford any decent knick-knacks to hang inside it? Why do people feel the need to clutter their car with junk? I’ve seen rearview mirrors that are just waiting to drop off the window from the sheer weight of the doodads hanging from it. I’ve seen graduation tassels, flowery leis, shrunken heads, handcuffs, disco balls (now there’s a brilliant object to hang in your car—blind everybody!), many times everything at once. I even saw a couple pairs of flip flops once. I’ve seen dashboards literally covered in those little bobbing head dog things. It’s so weird to watch—45 different dog heads all nodding at you like an ocean of poppies in the breeze.

I personally try to keep my car knick-knack free. I hate things dangling from my rearview mirror. It distracts me. I get distracted quite easily, so I don’t need any of that. Some people decorate enough for 10 people. What kind are you?

Wednesday, March 29, 2006

Does this mean I have to be social now?

If you recall my post about my career aspirations (or lack thereof), you’ll know that I’m happy with having as little job responsibility as possible. I just got out of a meeting with my manager where we discussed my goals and objectives for this year. He mentioned some training courses for Project Management.

Oh no. This means more responsibility and doing less of the stuff I actually enjoy. I’ve worked with Project Managers. They’re always stressed out and it requires a LOT of organizational skills. My skills at organization are limited to keeping my code clean and keeping the socks out of my underwear drawer.

He went on to tell me that they’re going to start making me the point person for contact for all ongoing projects. He wants all the departments to think of me when they have a question for the web team. Oh great. I have to talk to more people. My phone is going to ring more often and I actually have to unplug my headphones and be social. Ugh. Why are they nudging me in this direction? I suppose that’s what I get for being likeable and responsive to people’s questions. I should’ve been cranky more often. Then again I wouldn’t have gotten the raise I did. Hmm. Double edged sword. I hope I don’t fall on it.

Go me! Go me! It's your birthday! (Well, it was yesterday)

Yesterday was wonderful and relaxing as planned. In the morning I was rummaging through my drawer as I was trying to decide on what to wear when I came upon a t-shirt I hadn’t worn in at least a year. We’d originally found it in the boy’s clothing section at JC Penny some time ago (hey it’s one of the few places I can actually find cool dragon shirts that don’t fit me like a tent.) The shirt is red with black lettering that says, “Girls love me, parents fear me”. My sweety saw it and told me that I have to get it. How could I say no? I am lovable, aren’t I? I don’t have much opportunity to wear it, so I figured my birthday was perfect for it. “Go me! Go me! It’s your birthday!”

It rained all day, which made for some very nice ambience for curling up with your honey and some videos. It was so nice I didn’t even mind all the leaks that eventually started their little tap-dance. Eight leak-catching bowls this time, and my computer is still dry. I’m so lucky.

Tuesday, March 28, 2006

Waffling

For breakfast I wanted a Belgian waffle with tons of whipped cream and strawberries.  We went to a place we hadn’t gone to in a long time, called “The Original Pancake House”. Are they really the original pancake house? I doubt it. How old are pancakes anyway? Who knows. I actually don’t care. Places who claim to be “the original” most likely aren’t, but the food is usually good.

Anyway, I thought they had what I was looking for. We got settled into our seats, marveling at the number of people there on a Tuesday morning. Weekends are hell trying to get in, I remember. I opened up the menu and looked at their waffle section. Hmm… no Belgians there. I order their strawberries-n-cream waffle, hoping it’s the kind of waffle I want. It isn’t. How disappointing. But damn did they pile on the whipped cream, YUM! I love me some whipped cream. *drool*

Next time I need to find the Original WAFFLE House… if there is one. There has to be a waffle specialty house somewhere. Pancakes are everywhere. Where are the big, crispy Belgian waffles I want?? Don’t make me throw a tantrum! In the meantime I at least found some in Costco’s frozen foods section. Yay.

So what are YOU craving?

Happy Birthday to Me!

Please sing/scream with me at the top of your lungs…

Happy birthday to you!
You live in the zoo!
You look like a monkey!
And smell like one too!!

Yes, 30-something years ago today (don’t make me do math please, it’s my special day!) a momentous occasion took place. I made my mom suffer through (or so she claims) 36 hours of labor before finally showing my face (and my bare behind) to the world for the first time. She says I was the loudest baby in the whole hospital, and drank more milk than the rest of them too. The averge baby there drank half a bottle. I would drink a bottle and a half. A loud, obnoxious heavy drinker… don’t I sound like I belong in a bar??

Fast forward to today. I’m no longer loud, though I can be quite obnoxious (and I will litter your blog with pointless comments if I feel so inclined). I’m not a drinker (don’t act so surprised). I prefer water, milkshakes, and sometimes juice. But, like my baby days, I still eat more than people expect. My snack drawer is never empty, I make sure of that. I think I have the metabolism of a hummingbird. I need to put someting into my stomach every two hours or I get cranky and very whiney. I’m very annoying when I’m whiney. Just feed me and I’ll shut up. Ah what a lady I’ve become.

And that concludes the birthday edition of “Geeky Dragon Girl, Then and Now”. For my birthday gift you can go click on my renter. 

Monday, March 27, 2006

Boy am I dense

My company had a little “health fair” recently. You know, one of those things that a company does to remind you that, honest, they really do care about their employees. No really, they do. Stop arguing with me dammit, this post is about me, not them!

They had this room set up with “health stations”. One station was for checking your blood pressure, another to check your body fat, another for checking your cholesterol… stuff like that. I stayed away from the one that required a blood sample. I don’t like getting stuck unless I have to. Yes I am a pain wimp. Yes I know they only need a drop and not a vial, but still, I don’t like getting poked with sharp objects!

Ahem. Moving on.

I answered a lengthy questionaire, which got fed through a machine and spit out an evaluation of my overall health. Everything was in the “Excellent” range except for one—“Fitness Status”. Bottom line is, I gotta get off my ass more often.

The most fascinating station for me was the one measuring bone density. They had this machine that you put your foot into. These rubbery things clamp down on your ankle and somehow measure how dense your bones are. According to the chart, a number of -1 is normal. -1 to -2.5 means it’s a little low, and less than -2.5 means you’re walking peanut brittle. The lady told me that most people were around -1 to zero.  So I stick my foot into the device and she takes my bone mass meaurements. She looks up at me and says, “Are you made of cement?” She measures again, just to be sure. “Your bone density is 4.3!” she informs me. “That’s the highest I’ve ever seen!”

This would explain how I managed to smash in a truck’s cigarette lighter with my knee and walk away with only a bloody gash. So it’s official folks, I really am dense. Time for me to go take my cement supplements.

Whoops, your ignorance is showing

Back to that scary Herbalife lady… I just have to remark on more of the idiotic things she said. She had this whole binder full of materials (propoganda). One page was this certificate she received for… I don’t really know, nor do I care. The thing looked so cheap and cheesy, like some of the awards I received in high school. Great qualifications you got there lady. Did you laminate it yourself?

What really stood out in the arena of utter ignorance was when she was trying to explain diabetes.  Apparently there’s something wrong with you at the cellular level, and this causes you to become intolerant to sugar. So when you consume sugar, it first gets sent to your brain. Your brain rejects it so the sugar get sent to your pancreas, which also rejects it. So now you have all this sugar with nowhere to go, and that is “a bad thing”.  So if her miracle product is able to fix whatever is wrong with my cells, does this mean my brain will start processing sugar? Wow. As if it didn’t have enough things to do already. I’ve heard that there are a lot of untapped potential abilities in the human brain, but I never would’ve guessed that it would one day decide to take over that function.

The lesson in all of this? If you don’t know what you’re talking about, pick a different topic. Better yet, don’t speak at all!

(Note: I have nothing against those who haven’t had the opportunity to go further in their education. I will never ridicule them. However if you are going to be peddling products that will affect my health, you better know what you’re talking about!)

Sunday, March 26, 2006

Celebrity Sightings

Look who decided to rent my blog this week! It’s the infallible, the incomparable, the incomprehensible lovely Miss Ann Thrope! That’s right folks, I practically have a celebrity renting my blog. If you like cats you’ll like this blog. If you like Roombas named Wanda you’ll like this blog. If you like good blogs, you’ll like this blog! Go pay her a visit why dontcha. You’ll be glad you did.

Speaking of celebrities, I’ve only seen two. One was the guy who played the mean senator in Xmen. It was at a high school graduation. We were using the zoom lens on the camera on him more than on the graduate. Don’t poke fun, we have to get our cheap thrills somehow.

The other one was at a Tower Records. It was kinda funny because I saw him, then went to my friend and said, “You know, that guy looks a lot like James Spader.” She looks at the guy I indicated and replied, “That is James Spader.” Oh, heh, silly me.

And you know the best celebrity of all? She’s one that I talk about all the time, she’s a huge celebrity here on this blog. It’s my sweetypie! She finally broke down and decided to start her own blog, called “First, the Bad News”. No I did not twist her arm, what kind of person do you think I am?? I mean really. So anyway, this is her first foray into the blogging world (and already she has a blog title much more creative than mine), so be nice. I can be a rabid dog if provoked. (You’re going to laugh, I initially made a typo and wrote “rabbit dog”. Not quite the effect I was going for.) Plus… I know people. So be nice.  And go visit. I’m headed over there right now! See you there! (Note, don’t let the Spanish scare you off, scroll down for the translated versions of the posts. Leave comments and welcome her to the neighborhood!)

A Fanatic Disguised as a Saleswoman

I hate commercial propoganda, especially when shoved forcibly down my throat. This is why I avoid things like tupperware parties. “Party” my ass.

So it was with much loathing and reluctance that I followed my sweetheart to her niece’s Herbalife party. Ugh. Her niece is a great person and if that’s what she’s into then I’ll support her decisions. Her I didn’t mind. It was her “supervisor” who was the pushy, peddling bitch. I guess her “underling” (niece) was still learning how to do the presentation, so this lady pretty much ran the show.

She had us trying the different drinks they offered. Before she launched into her well-oiled schpiel she gave us all a tall glass of this stuff called “Liftoff”. It was being passed off as an energy drink that apparently was popular with students. As she’s handing out the glasses, the following conversation ensues…

Pushy Bitch: This is full of nutrients and gives you lots energy.
Niece: Yeah, this stuff will keep you up all night!
Pushy Bitch: That is not true!
[Niece immediately shuts up as Pushy Bitch is glaring.]

As I’m sipping I read the ingredients. There’s caffeine in it. Well shit of course this stuff is going to keep me up. But there’s other stuff in it too, so I guess that’s the “energy” part of it. I don’t know. I don’t trust pushy people. Still, I only drank about 2 ounces of the stuff, and look what time this post is! I’m supposed to be knocked out by now! I get sleepy by 9:30pm because of my early work schedule. But damn, this is nuts. Two ounces did this to me, imagine if I had drunk the entire glass? You’re crazy lady, and obviously don’t give a shit about my sleep schedule and the fact that I’m supposed to be well rested for Monday. See, the niece wasn’t exaggerating. I probably would have stayed up all night if I’d had all of it. She was just being honest. But I suppose honesty isn’t a useful trait for a salesperson peddling Herbalife.

And you know why Pushy Bitch gave everyone this “energy drink” before starting her pony show, right? To keep me from embarrassing her and falling asleep of course! Don’t think I don’t see right through you, Pushy Bitch. You do not have my best interests at heart. You don’t even have your little underling’s best interest at heart. Peddling your little “miracle” products that you claim to have “all natural ingredients”. What a load of BS. I read the ingredients. There are plenty of unnatural things in there. I pointed it out to Sweety, who in turn called Pushy Bitch out on it. After a flustered second, she launched into a self-righteous speech, “I don’t care what’s in the ingredients or what the label says. All I know is that this stuff works! I’ve been using it for 26 years and I feel better than ever! No one has ever died from taking Herbalife. No one!” She goes on and on for another five minutes, basically repeating herself before finally giving me an evil look. Yeah I don’t like you either lady.

Does this not smack of fanaticism? The fact that she’s preaching the miracles of these products without caring to understand how or why they work? It’s frightening how much like a religion it seems. People like her scare me.

But if you ever need to pull an all-nighter, damn, that Liftoff stuff scares me even more!

Saturday, March 25, 2006

As Marvin Gaye would say, "Let's Get It On..."

My poor baby has been working overtime all this week. Each evening she would come home a little more droopy than the previous day. Repeated 12-hour shifts will suck the life outta you, no matter how much you like your job. It’s so weird for me to be the last one to leave the house for work, and the first one to get back. 12 hours, ugh, I don’t know how she does it.

So yesterday on her way home she called me and said she was soooooo tired. I just wanted to hop in the car and go fetch her myself so she wouldn’t have to drive. But then her car would be stuck there and oh what a mess. There are better ways to pamper. Oh yes.

I immediately jumped into the shower to get my scroungy ass clean for the evening ahead. (I was likely going to shower anyway, but I was also considering just being lazy and being scroungy all weekend. What are weekends for if you can’t be gross?) After I got out I lit every single candle I could find and turned out the lights. The doggies were following me everywhere wondering, “What’s going on? What all this running around? She usually sits like a lump in front of the computer.”

Finally she gets home and the first thing she says is, “Ooh it’s so romantic in here!” DING-DING-DING! Bullseye for me.  I haven’t come out yet because I want to surprise her in the bedroom.  She usually goes straight in there to change before going to seek me out. Well this time, she goes to the kitchen instead. What’s she doing in there?? I grumble a bit but stick to my plan. I will ambush her when she gets to the room. 10 minutes later she’s still puttering around the kitchen. I thought she said she was tired??

Okay, finally she goes to the room and is surprised to see me there. “I thought you’d be in front of the computer!” she said. Apparently the doggies weren’t the only ones. I have quite a nerdy reputation around the house. I replied with, “Not tonight, tonight is all about you...” Actually I didn’t say that. That would’ve been the romantic answer. Hey I did good this far, didn’t I? I actually said, “What were you doing in the kitchen for so long??”

Lucky for me the candles continued to work their magic and she didn’t get put off my my bitchy question. Instead she answered with, “I’m sorry honey, but I’m here now...” Yes, yes she was! I helped her get her shoes off and proceeded with a foot massage, then an arm massage, then… well, she had to change out of her work clothes so of course I had to help…

This is where your naughty imaginations get to exercise. You’ll get no more details outta me! Let’s just say it was a very… pleasant evening.

Friday, March 24, 2006

Idol Chatter

Two weeks ago a friend was asking us who got voted off. We were all, “Uh.... we don’t remember!” There was a lot of intense thinking (more than there should have been really), then we had the following conversation:

Me: Ace was in the bottom two, right?
Sweety: Yeah! He was!
Me: Ace and… who was the other guy?
Sweety: I don’t remember…
Me: Was it that guy with the big smile and the crazy eyes?
Sweety: No that was earlier. He’s already gone.
Me: Oh… oh! Was it Bucky then?
Sweety: Ohhh Bucky! I think it was him!
Friend: Bucky? Huh, okay.

Imagine our surprise the following week when Bucky waltzed onto the stage along with the other remaining contestants.  Oops. We never did figure out who left that week. I could look it up, but where’s the fun in that?

Speaking of Bucky, we caught ourselves up on this week’s offerings last night. All throughout the vote-off show I was trying to figure out what the hell was on Bucky’s shirt. It was a black long-sleeved shirt with some kind of weird print on it. At first glace I thought it was lungs. I thought it was an odd thing to wear. He’s a musician, not a geek like me. Then I got a closer look and thought, “Oh they’re birds!” But they weren’t. At one point they zoomed in on him and I got a really good look at the design on the shirt. WTF? I have no idea. As far as I could tell they were bird bodies with snake heads. Bizarre. Again, too much thought wasted.

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