My super awesome David and Goliath Sticker a Day calendar today says, "i'm bored, you tire me." It makes me so happy. I'm telling everyone that today. And it pleases me. And only Lovely knows it's from the calendar. Maybe there is more to the, 'Amanda is the mean one' thing other than the fact that I don't giggle as much as Lovey.
Last night I had a lovely time with a friend and again managed to not have time to do some much needed cleaning. I think soon I will just embrace my grossness and move on.
Vader came over to visit while I packed and did my toes until a trip for cat food turned into a two hour dinner at an Italian place around the corner. Yummy fettuccine with artichoke hearts in a garlic cream sauce and a bottle of pinot grigio was way better than hanging in the grossness. Then Vader painted my toes. Because she is way too nice to me and caters entirely too much to my princess nature. Of course, she also tells me when I'm being a frightful whore so... As repayment I forced her to watch The Goonies DVD commentary while I packed. I believe she loved it as much as I do though she also shouted, "MY GOD can Corey Feldman not shut up for a single second?" as I do. UGH. So funny though. Martha Plimpton is one of my favorites on the commentary. The best is when she points out the fact that she's practically asleep in the background of the treasure finding scene. Hee. Love that movie. So glad the Octopus became a deleted scene, though.
Eventually she fled the grossness and I shaved my legs and got to bed. I HATE shaving my legs. I was in the shower bitching and moaning to myself and thinking about how lovely it would be to just pay someone to shave my legs for me. You know? How nice would that be? I know you can pay people to wax you, but I don't want the hairs ripped out of my leg. That would hurt. I don't want the pain. Plus I don't really have all that much body/leg hair anyway. And you have to grow it kinda long to get it ripped out and that's just icky to me. Do they have leg shaving services? Do you know?
Friday, April 01, 2005
Thursday, March 31, 2005
Babble
Last night I had dinner with Muppet and Bambi since Bambi was in town on Spring Break. I hit some kind of wall last night around 5 and just wanted to go home and go to bed. But ended up having a nice night; sitting over diner food and coffee talking about all sorts of things, laughing a lot, lecturing a little and just catching up. I like those dinners. Where everyone gets to talk a lot and no topic is sacred and the next thing you know four hours have gone by. Though we did have to spend a few moments getting on my ass about finding another job. Which was uncomfortable. Because I have NO IDEA what I want to be when I grow up and I have no clue what to do about it. I look into things but it's all just uninspiring.
Tonight I'm packing, painting my toenails and catching up with Vader. Haven't seen her since the slumber party o' doom. Though she may just turn around and leave once she sees my apartment. Words can't describe the catbox and I think I might have a few unwashed dishes from the slumber party laying around. Because I have become the grossest woman alive. Fuck it. I don't care.
Speaking of gross, there was a very, very bad smelling man on the train today. I never know what to do in those situations. I got on and sorta smelled something bad but couldn't figure out who it was. I got a seat soon after and didn't really smell it much after that. But I noticed the woman across from me sorta trying to subtly bury her nose in her collar. And I wondered if maybe it was the guy next to her. And it was. Because at one point he decided to get up and stand and lean against the pole by me and OH MY GOD. The stench was so bad. And I really wanted to cover my face and gag. But that seemed so rude. Who knows why he smells. Maybe it's something he can't help. He seemed nice enough. For a New Yorker on a subway car. But ugh. I suddenly had a lot more sympathy for the uncomfortable looks the woman across the way had on her face earlier. Finally I just faced away from him and hoped he'd get off soon. Which he did.
My rock star life.
Speaking of rock stars... sorta. 3 Doors Down was rowdy on a plane to Cairns last and kept my Daddy from sleeping on his break. Bad, bad band. Keeping the pilot sleepy.
I'm now talking with PimpDaddy about how he's never actually sold me and kinda sucks as a Pimp. But he's the only Pimp for me - as I told BigD earlier today. Maybe I should give PimpDaddy access to post here so he can blog up some support for our little ho empire. And give my father a heart attack in the process. Hmmmmmm...
Tonight I'm packing, painting my toenails and catching up with Vader. Haven't seen her since the slumber party o' doom. Though she may just turn around and leave once she sees my apartment. Words can't describe the catbox and I think I might have a few unwashed dishes from the slumber party laying around. Because I have become the grossest woman alive. Fuck it. I don't care.
Speaking of gross, there was a very, very bad smelling man on the train today. I never know what to do in those situations. I got on and sorta smelled something bad but couldn't figure out who it was. I got a seat soon after and didn't really smell it much after that. But I noticed the woman across from me sorta trying to subtly bury her nose in her collar. And I wondered if maybe it was the guy next to her. And it was. Because at one point he decided to get up and stand and lean against the pole by me and OH MY GOD. The stench was so bad. And I really wanted to cover my face and gag. But that seemed so rude. Who knows why he smells. Maybe it's something he can't help. He seemed nice enough. For a New Yorker on a subway car. But ugh. I suddenly had a lot more sympathy for the uncomfortable looks the woman across the way had on her face earlier. Finally I just faced away from him and hoped he'd get off soon. Which he did.
My rock star life.
Speaking of rock stars... sorta. 3 Doors Down was rowdy on a plane to Cairns last and kept my Daddy from sleeping on his break. Bad, bad band. Keeping the pilot sleepy.
I'm now talking with PimpDaddy about how he's never actually sold me and kinda sucks as a Pimp. But he's the only Pimp for me - as I told BigD earlier today. Maybe I should give PimpDaddy access to post here so he can blog up some support for our little ho empire. And give my father a heart attack in the process. Hmmmmmm...
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Juxtaposition
I dug out some art supplies today. And it was so nice to see them again. I miss sitting around with paint and markers and crayons and pencils and just being goofy. I even have finger paint still.
But it was a bit odd, having to pull my finger paints and crayons out from behind the porn.
But it was a bit odd, having to pull my finger paints and crayons out from behind the porn.
Diversify my ass why don'cha?
I suffer through over three hours of diversity training at work and then get harassed by some offensive fucknuts on the corner as I'm walking to Staples. Shitty, shitty afternoon.
My god. Diversity Training. Oh, I'm sorry, "Navigating Differences in the Workforce." Such crap. Such total crap. Three hours of watching actors act out very obvious scenes, listening to the bullshit my idiotic coworkers feel about issues of race, gender, ethnicity, religion, family and orientation and knowing that none of this makes a difference and this will still be a white American male dominated industry for years to come. You can say it's inappropriate to be abusive and offensive to your coworkers, but we all know that as long as you give the impression of bringing in money and clients you can treat people however you damn well like.
That was actually the one nice moment. Someone basically called management and HR out as being ineffective. One HR representative tried to say that there were meetings and reprimandings we didn't know about but the facilitator called her out on it, saying that those meetings may happen but something is wrong if people all still perceive them as ineffective.
It was just so pointless. And offensive. One jackass kept telling people not to "play the victim", when he's a huge offender himself. Very offensive and rude and abusive and inappropriate. I wanted to make his face a victim to my foot. And one women decided it was a good idea to say that women are too sensitive and defensive to perceived inequalities in the workplace. She needs some attention from my foot as well. And everyone seemed to think it wasn't a big deal to tell a woman to be more charming in the workplace. Charming is a fine word. Yes. But how the hell many times does a man get told he needs to be charming to get ahead compared with a woman. ARGH!!!!! And one skit was so obviously BEGGING the audience to bring of the stereotype of the Angry Black Man it made me want to cry. No one would do it or address it or acknowledge it's affect. And it was so clumsy and inefficient. And folks were actually trying to say that someone with an accent and little grasp of idiom for whom English was a second language should possibly be held back in our industry because they "can't communicate". Despite the fact they they're smart, articulate and able to speak English well. And despite the fact that one of our most popular economists (in the US as well as in Asia) is a Chinese man with a strong Chinese accent for whom English is not his first language and whose verbal communication skills are not the same as our American analysts (though not better or worse, just different).
Such crap. It was three hours of folks talking out their asses for no real purpose. No one learned anything. One of the folks in my group, who is quite sexist, came out of an earlier session saying it was good, but not necessary for him. So anyone who needs work (well, everyone needs work, but anyone who REALLY needs work) comes out of it feeling as smug and entitled as before and nothing changes. It's just the same old abusive, sexist, racist environment as before, where it's safer to be closeted than not.
HATE this place. HATE corporate America. Want to go home and hide.
Instead, I am going to the Opera to hear folks sing about a consumptive hooker. Hopefully that'll perk me up.
My god. Diversity Training. Oh, I'm sorry, "Navigating Differences in the Workforce." Such crap. Such total crap. Three hours of watching actors act out very obvious scenes, listening to the bullshit my idiotic coworkers feel about issues of race, gender, ethnicity, religion, family and orientation and knowing that none of this makes a difference and this will still be a white American male dominated industry for years to come. You can say it's inappropriate to be abusive and offensive to your coworkers, but we all know that as long as you give the impression of bringing in money and clients you can treat people however you damn well like.
That was actually the one nice moment. Someone basically called management and HR out as being ineffective. One HR representative tried to say that there were meetings and reprimandings we didn't know about but the facilitator called her out on it, saying that those meetings may happen but something is wrong if people all still perceive them as ineffective.
It was just so pointless. And offensive. One jackass kept telling people not to "play the victim", when he's a huge offender himself. Very offensive and rude and abusive and inappropriate. I wanted to make his face a victim to my foot. And one women decided it was a good idea to say that women are too sensitive and defensive to perceived inequalities in the workplace. She needs some attention from my foot as well. And everyone seemed to think it wasn't a big deal to tell a woman to be more charming in the workplace. Charming is a fine word. Yes. But how the hell many times does a man get told he needs to be charming to get ahead compared with a woman. ARGH!!!!! And one skit was so obviously BEGGING the audience to bring of the stereotype of the Angry Black Man it made me want to cry. No one would do it or address it or acknowledge it's affect. And it was so clumsy and inefficient. And folks were actually trying to say that someone with an accent and little grasp of idiom for whom English was a second language should possibly be held back in our industry because they "can't communicate". Despite the fact they they're smart, articulate and able to speak English well. And despite the fact that one of our most popular economists (in the US as well as in Asia) is a Chinese man with a strong Chinese accent for whom English is not his first language and whose verbal communication skills are not the same as our American analysts (though not better or worse, just different).
Such crap. It was three hours of folks talking out their asses for no real purpose. No one learned anything. One of the folks in my group, who is quite sexist, came out of an earlier session saying it was good, but not necessary for him. So anyone who needs work (well, everyone needs work, but anyone who REALLY needs work) comes out of it feeling as smug and entitled as before and nothing changes. It's just the same old abusive, sexist, racist environment as before, where it's safer to be closeted than not.
HATE this place. HATE corporate America. Want to go home and hide.
Instead, I am going to the Opera to hear folks sing about a consumptive hooker. Hopefully that'll perk me up.
Monday, March 28, 2005
Wanna go, pretty boy?
So, it looks like I stand a good chance of winning the office March Madness pool. Heh. How odd is that. I make my picks based on family/friend loyalty and my leftover childhood love (ask me about Tarheel soda some day) of the Tarheels. So, let's all keep our fingers crossed for UNC to win it all. Mama needs a new pair o' shoes.
So, my Easter Weekend was lovely. Friday I went over to Monkey Man's place for hockey day. He'd sent around an article a week or two ago about Youngblood and Lovey and I decided we should spend a few hours watching hockey movies. Apparently we're mostly (but not entirely) alone in thinking this is a fun thing.
First, though, I had a fabulous lunch with Charlotte, catching up and chatting. And then I headed out to Roosevelt Island for Hockey Day. Monkey Man's roommate demanded we all wear jerseys so I brought one that a college friend had given me. I'm not a hockey fan but I have a jersey, of course. While waiting for everyone to gather we caught the tail end of Love Actually. Because Monkey Man and his roomie are a bunch of girls. And Lovey loves the movie. There was some debate about the fabulousness of Colin Firth. Monkey Man and his roomie think it's ONLY the accent but we disagree. He's got some other sexiness going on too. But we did agree Alan Rickman's sexiness is almost totally the voice and accent.
So, we settled down for Youngblood. So very bad, but so amusing. Rob Lowe takes off his pants and that was excellent. He's so very, very pretty. And there is the "Wanna go, pretty boy?" line, the learning to fight montage, Keanu Reeves just being tragic and Patrick Swayze's very neon apartment. Plus some thing with dentures. And tea with Miss McGill. And such And the first of many appearances of the word "candyass" I'm hoping to use that frequently in the future. Brace yourselves.
After that I was somehow convince to wear hockey pads under my jersey and Lovey and I were both forced to make mouthguards for ourselves along with Monkey Man. You apparently boil them for 35 seconds or so and then pop them in your mouth, sucking out all the water and air to meld them to your teeth. So odd. And not the most comfortable thing in the world. And yet Monkey Man made us wear them most of the rest of the afternoon. Along with helmets. I don't know why we went along with this. Seemed "fun" at the time. But yeah, crazy Monkey Man would actually SCOLD US if he saw our mouth guards somewhere other than our mouths. VERY strange man.
We started Slapshot and that's about when Iolanthe showed up. Apparently she almost fled at the site of us in full gear. But stuck it out. Brave girl that she is. Though she totally wussed out and wouldn't make a mouth guard, candyass. Lovey is thinking of sending her the one she made. So she won't feel too left out and all.
Slapshot wasn't bad. Better than Youngblood. Though kind of the same movie in some respects. With identical themes of talented pretty boy hockey players who won't fight and who show their asses at some point in the movie. But, and I hope I don't ruin anything for you, Rob Lowe does learn to fight (with the help of a Montage!) and Michael Ontkean flat out refuses all the way to the end. Unless you count punching your own teammate which I don't.
Eventually we lost Lovey, gained another roommate (lost the first one during Youngblood) and settled in for Mystery, Alaska. Until Iolanthe decided she wanted to watch the good hockey movie rather than a bad one. And we switched to Miracle, which I've seen and really like. We did get to watch the Mike Myers cameo - billed as the best part of the movie. As bad as that was, I'm kind of okay with the choice to NOT watch that flick.
Now, Miracle is based on the 1980 US Olympic hockey team. It's a true story. With an outcome that was huge news. Yet Iolanthe kept insisting we not tell her the ending. Because she's a nutcase. In fact, she got cranky and informed us that in Turner & Hooch? The dog dies. How mean is she? What if I wanted to see that one day?!?! At least I got to lose the pads, mouth guard and helmet by then.
So, my Easter Weekend was lovely. Friday I went over to Monkey Man's place for hockey day. He'd sent around an article a week or two ago about Youngblood and Lovey and I decided we should spend a few hours watching hockey movies. Apparently we're mostly (but not entirely) alone in thinking this is a fun thing.
First, though, I had a fabulous lunch with Charlotte, catching up and chatting. And then I headed out to Roosevelt Island for Hockey Day. Monkey Man's roommate demanded we all wear jerseys so I brought one that a college friend had given me. I'm not a hockey fan but I have a jersey, of course. While waiting for everyone to gather we caught the tail end of Love Actually. Because Monkey Man and his roomie are a bunch of girls. And Lovey loves the movie. There was some debate about the fabulousness of Colin Firth. Monkey Man and his roomie think it's ONLY the accent but we disagree. He's got some other sexiness going on too. But we did agree Alan Rickman's sexiness is almost totally the voice and accent.
So, we settled down for Youngblood. So very bad, but so amusing. Rob Lowe takes off his pants and that was excellent. He's so very, very pretty. And there is the "Wanna go, pretty boy?" line, the learning to fight montage, Keanu Reeves just being tragic and Patrick Swayze's very neon apartment. Plus some thing with dentures. And tea with Miss McGill. And such And the first of many appearances of the word "candyass" I'm hoping to use that frequently in the future. Brace yourselves.
After that I was somehow convince to wear hockey pads under my jersey and Lovey and I were both forced to make mouthguards for ourselves along with Monkey Man. You apparently boil them for 35 seconds or so and then pop them in your mouth, sucking out all the water and air to meld them to your teeth. So odd. And not the most comfortable thing in the world. And yet Monkey Man made us wear them most of the rest of the afternoon. Along with helmets. I don't know why we went along with this. Seemed "fun" at the time. But yeah, crazy Monkey Man would actually SCOLD US if he saw our mouth guards somewhere other than our mouths. VERY strange man.
We started Slapshot and that's about when Iolanthe showed up. Apparently she almost fled at the site of us in full gear. But stuck it out. Brave girl that she is. Though she totally wussed out and wouldn't make a mouth guard, candyass. Lovey is thinking of sending her the one she made. So she won't feel too left out and all.
Slapshot wasn't bad. Better than Youngblood. Though kind of the same movie in some respects. With identical themes of talented pretty boy hockey players who won't fight and who show their asses at some point in the movie. But, and I hope I don't ruin anything for you, Rob Lowe does learn to fight (with the help of a Montage!) and Michael Ontkean flat out refuses all the way to the end. Unless you count punching your own teammate which I don't.
Eventually we lost Lovey, gained another roommate (lost the first one during Youngblood) and settled in for Mystery, Alaska. Until Iolanthe decided she wanted to watch the good hockey movie rather than a bad one. And we switched to Miracle, which I've seen and really like. We did get to watch the Mike Myers cameo - billed as the best part of the movie. As bad as that was, I'm kind of okay with the choice to NOT watch that flick.
Now, Miracle is based on the 1980 US Olympic hockey team. It's a true story. With an outcome that was huge news. Yet Iolanthe kept insisting we not tell her the ending. Because she's a nutcase. In fact, she got cranky and informed us that in Turner & Hooch? The dog dies. How mean is she? What if I wanted to see that one day?!?! At least I got to lose the pads, mouth guard and helmet by then.
It was fun. Really. There was pizza and dill dip and veggies and everything.
Saturday night I headed out with Iolanthe again to see this a cappella group she stalks, the ExBoyfriends. She's invited me to their gigs before but I hadn't realized the extent of her obsession with them until this weekend. She goes to all their shows and loves them unconditionally. One of them is even an actual exboyfriend of hers. She thinks they're all super guys and musical geniuses. She's a groupie. And she's not alone. Luckily they (and their Swedish opening act) were very good. So I only found her mildly crazy instead of delusional or something. Maybe more than mildly crazy. She did hit me a LOT for mocking her groupiehood and for my comment that a cappella has a touch of the geeky about it. I like it. I have lots of friends who love it and who do it. And they're fabulous. But it's a smidge geeky. It's just the nature of the genre or performance style or whatever. C'mon. Y'all know it's true.
And then we crashed someone's 30th Birthday Party and chatted with various ExBoyfriends and their rabid fans. All of whom seem to have some connection to Binghamton University. It seemed a little cult-like. I don't know. Iolanthe was fun and I got to chat about Arrested Development with some folks and had a good time.
Sunday night I got all fetal on my couch with a killer headache. Not so much the good time. Ah well. My punishment for not making the weekend about the lord I guess.
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