Rock Hall Photo Essay bu Witnesssuzy

Saturday I went to the Rock Hall and managed to take a few pictures. I thought I would share and then you could feel like you were there.

Saturday was also Harbor Fest, so besides all the great rock and roll memorabilia, I got to see big ships.

Here is the building. I think it is sharp looking. Jeannie did make to observation that they could've made it big enough to hold the induction ceremony. And I think it could've been built a little bigger to hold a bigger Tom Petty exhibit. But what can you do?

This is Steven Tyler. It's a bust from the video for "Pink." I might not sure how the picture ended up looking like this. Could've been the lack of flash or because I took it fast because I was afraid I would set off an alarm or something. But I think it looks cool.

Finally, the Phish fries and coke. What you can't see is that on either side of these is a sign saying "NO photography permitted." So I tried to be really inconspicuous by kind of hiding and taking the picture from my waist. Jeannie also stood in front of one sign, so in case anyone yelled at me, I could say, "What sign?"

Anyhoo, as always, the Rock Hall rocked and I am really excited that Jeannie lives only 20 minutes away so I have someone to go with whenever I want. Oh and I also learned that someone from Jethro Tull became a woman. I love learning new things every day.

Declaration of the Day

I have decided that I am pro-global warming if it means shorter and milder winters.











Don't forget to celebrate Bastille day by eating french fries or french onion soup.

Good News For Me

The UPS man delivered my new camera and guess what...it has a feature to take self-portraits. Now I love that because I love to take my own picture. I can't wait to take my own picture at the Rock Hall this weekend and on vacation.

In other news, I ate some artichoke dip and it was heavy on the mayonnaise and now I feel kind of gross.

This is the creepiest statue ever

Sometimes I Wished I Lived in Brazil

On NPR this morning there was a story about how after Brazil was eliminated from the championship World Cup game last week, people in Brazil rioted and knocked down a statue of the their team captain that was erected just a few years ago after he was named the best soccer (or football) player in the world. This made me laugh out loud. I think the image in my head is probably much funnier than what actually happened.

Anyhoo, on Saturday I went to a bar that did a "Name That Tune" game. I was apart of Team Pocket Sauce and round after round, we were given the hardest questions. It got worse and worse as the night went on and we were almost defeated by the time the game ended. Until we found out we came in second. We're still not sure how that happened, but it was pretty awesome. Especially when the prize was $11 off of our tab.

Don't forget to wish Mr. Wizard a happy birthday. Today he is 89.

Quick Question

I was just watching Stuck on You and I know Siamese twins are separated all the time, but do you think there are any people who would want to be attached? Would that ever happen?

Maybe it's time for a beer.

Some Perfectly Good Blabbering

I work with a woman who gets to work every day between 5 and 5:30 am. Once, I got an email from her at 4:58 am. And then she works until 4 pm like everyone else. While I have been known to occasionally come in early or work a little late or even through lunch, coming in two hours early seems nuts to me.

I wonder if she has that much work to do. And if she does, maybe she should ask for an assistant or something. Because if she needs to spend 10 hours doing her purchasing work just to get it all done, that is a lot of purchasing, maybe too much purchasing.

Or maybe she hates home and comes in to have a few moments to herself; sit back and drink her coffee is peace. Maybe she's an insomniac and comes in because she's awake. I kind of hope she's an insomniac because if she's not, she must have to go to bed at like 8 pm. The sun's still shining then.

I actually wondered on my drive in to work the day after the big storm a few weeks ago if she would make it in at 5 or if she would get in at 7 or God forbid, late. But she was there. I bet she would've driven through lakes to get here at 5. She's hardcore like that.

Have a good weekend everyone.

Vacation...Yay

I turned in my vacation request yesterday and it was signed immediately. He didn't even look at the dates. Let's give it up for a lack of bureaucratic bullshit. Woot, woot. I once had a job where I wanted to take two, unpaid days off and I had to go through a huge paperwork channel. I wasn't even that important of an employee. And one month later I was laid off because the company filed for bankruptcy. Think of how much money was wasted making me fill out paperwork and wait for paperwork. All the paperwork should've been foreshadowing of what was to come. I am suspicious of too much paperwork.

Anyhoo, anyhoo, back to my vacation. I leave three weeks from this coming Monday. My friend who I am staying with is trying to get pregnant and keeps saying things to me like, "If I am pregnant while you're here, you can have fun and drink and I'll just stick to my iced tea." I am a bad friend, because I hear that and think, "Can't you just fucking wait to even try to have your baby until after I leave? Then you can have a million babies and never worry about seeing me again." I know, I know…bad friend. But what I say to her is, "Oh yeah, that'll be fun too." So I am a bad friend, who is good on the outside.

But pregnant or not, she is taking me to this place called Chope's and I am having the worlds best chile rellenos, a ginormous bottle of Tecate and perhaps a shot of tequila.

God, I miss the old days sometimes.

UPDATE...
Here's a picture of Chope's bar.

Embarrased Beyond Words...well except the words I am about to write

Let me share with you an embarrassing story that happened to me today.

I am wearing my glass today because my contacts bothered me. I really need new glasses because one of my lenses always pops out. So it popped out and landed under my desk back towards the wall. So I literally have to crouch under my desk to get it. At the same time I am crouching, my door opens and our website man is here to see me. So I get up off the floor and start talking with him, discussing changes. I decided to leave my glasses off because they only have one lens in. Until I realize that I need at least one lens to see what I need to show him because even one lens is better than no lens because I am blind as a bat. So I go on to discuss this project with him wearing glasses with one lens in them.

So let’s recap.

First of all I never have appointments or see people, but the one day that I do, I am found coming out from under my desk and then wearing glasses with one lens.

I am mortified.

Happy 4th of July

I don't make a big deal out of the 4th of July. It's just a minor holiday. I mean, I get the importance, but I don't get crazy about it. So surprisingly enough, I have some really great 4th of July memories.

One year I took some acid with a friend. We watched the city fireworks at another friend's house. Afterwards, it seemed like the smoke from the fireworks was taking a long time to clear. Then it started to rain. It wasn't smoke, it was clouds. Anyhoo, the whole night was an awesome time. We stayed up all night and laughed a lot, talked a lot, drank a bottle of wine, and drank a pot of coffee.

A couple of years later, I spent the 4th of July in Juarez, Mexico. I got really drunk and a slight case of food poisoning. I guess that's what I get for celebrating my country's independence in a different country.

Have a safe 4th y'all.

Yahoo

I just found out that I have a four day weekend, and I am super, super excited about this. I don't even know what I am going to do with all that time. I guess live a life of leisure or something.

An Easy $100

So, I did get my internet fixed last night (I am posting this from home), but, although I got the ingredients, I did not make the fruit danishes. And I did not get to golf because it was raining. So the question is this: who out there did not cross their fingers?

I realized that I have not yet written about the bet I made with Laura. I hope she hasn't forgotten about it. I bet her $100 that she would have kids before me. And I feel fairly confident that I am going to win this one. More confidant than Laura anyway, who it looked like had to think twice before shaking my hand that I confidently thrusted out. And don't think I wouldn't take that $100 and tell her to keep it and put it towards her baby. I am not above taking money from a child, or a fetus, or its mother.

Friday is so close I can feel it in the air.

Hey, I need some advice. As many of you know, I am going to NM and I wanted to get my friends something Ohioish with me. I am probably going to take some peanut butter buckeyes, but what else can I take them besides a box of candy that they may or may not like? Any suggestions?

Office Part II (kind of)

I just discovered something cool about my three-hole punch: it can be adjusted so that you can punch holes in the middle of the paper, not just on the edge. That is so awesome.

Ok everyone, keep your fingers crossed that my home internet is fixed tonight. And while I wait for the internet guy to show up, I am going to make fruit danishes. Yes, I am that awesome that I know how to make fruit danishes. Make sure to spread the word. Also, if you are trying to tempt a good-looking (hopefully dirty) guy to marry me with the homade fruit danishes, you might want to mention that I will also inherit some land in Arkansas when my dad dies, so I have a dowry.

I would also like everyone to keep their fingers crossed that the internet guy shows up more towards 4:30 and that it does not rain so I can go to the driving range and use my awesome new clubs.

Ok, on the count of three, cross your fingers.

One...

Two...

Three...

FINGERS CROSSED!

Office

When I go home from work, I have ink and marker marks all over me. Sometimes I can figure out how they got there (like I held the pen way down by the tip), but sometimes I have no idea (like how did I get highlighter on the bottom of my forearm?). Once I had a pen mark on my face by my nose. How did that get there?

My three-hole punch arrived today. The old one that was lying around disappeared, so I ordered one just for me. It is awesome. I am going to become the guy from Office Space with his stapler, I just know I am. In fact I think I am going to put in a drawer each afternoon before I go home so no one will take it…or hopefully no one will take it.

In other news, I think that most of my loyal readers are fans of The Office. Well, I Netflixed the original British version. It’s hard to say which is better; I think because I saw the U.S. version first I am more inclined to say that that one is better, but I did laugh pretty hard at some places in the British version. I definitely like Jim and Pam better than Tim and Dawn (although I do like Tim). Dwight and Garrett are about the same, except Garrett is freakier looking than Dwight. As for the Michael Scott/David Brent…well I actually like David Brent better. Well, not really like, but like to hate more. But that’s because the British can get away with more un P.C. humor.

Anyhoo, I guess what I am saying here, is that if you have the chance to check out the original Office, do it just to check it out.

Happy Tuesday or Happy One Week Until the Fourth of July (for which Laura is going to her ranch and never thought to invite me because apparently, I wouldn’t like it).

Summer Time and the Living is Easy

I have my first sunburn of the summer (fist pumping wildly in the air). And it is the kind of burn that should fade nicely into a tan. However, if you had asked me last night how I felt about my sunburn, I would not have been so positive. After a lot of sun, and well, a lot of beer, I was not feeling so hot. I think around 10, I dragged myself from the couch to bed.

Oh, and speaking of beds and sleeping in them, I had ANOTHER dream about Ralph Fiennes. And again, I don’t know where it came from. I haven’t seen him in anything recently. I did watch the British version of The Office this weekend. Maybe all I need to hear is an English accent and my subconscious just thinks “Ralph Fiennes.” In this dream we weren’t friends. He fell in love with me and had my parent’s house redecorated. Weird, weird, weird.

I saw my nephews yesterday. They put on their bathing suits and played with their water toys. At one point Jack yelled out, “Who wants a free willy?” and proceeded to dump two water bottles on his head. I can only imagine Jack in 20 years yelling out the same question. But I have a feeling it just won’t mean the same thing.

Down Came the Rain (and the hail, the thunder, the lightning and the tornado...and more rain for good measure)

Am I alive? Am I alive? Yes, I am, but it was a pretty hairy night. Between the loud ass thunder, lightning that looked as though it was this close to my face, and of course, the tornado warnings, it was not the usual Wednesday night.

I decided that as long as the thunder was noisy, I was ok. It was the calm around 8 that started freaking me out. But don't worry, it just got loud again. At one point, I did get brave and opened my sliding door and looked out, but as soon as I did that, a big roll of thunder happened and surprised me and I kind of tripped backwards into my living room. I might have let out a "holy shit," but that cannot be confirmed.

I could not divert my eyes from the tv, though. Reporters were calling in reports from their neighborhoods and viewers were calling in and everyone was flooding. Cars were being carried down streets and people were getting trapped. I expected to look out and see my car floating down the parking lot. I got really lucky where I live; no flooding, no power outages. My cable went out about 10, but I was kind of tired anyway, so I just went to bed. This morning the news said it went on until about 4 am. I was a little nervous to leave for work this morning, but it wasn't bad at all, although about a mile up the road from work is closed off due to high water.

And it won't really have any time to dry because we are supposed to have a repeat of the weather (sans tornado warnings) tonight.

Sigh…weather's weird.

If I Were A Rich Girl

I enrolled in my company's 401K plan. I am going to be rich by today's standards in 30 years. Or hopefully anyway. Woo hoo. Someday I'll be able to retire and probably move right back into this apartment. If I ever have a reason to move out in the first place.

I ordered specially made golf clubs today. I get a discount when I take the class so, theoretically, if the stock market does well in the next couple of weeks, I should recoup the expense. I think that's how it works. Oh good lord, 401K's always sound so important, but they are kind of a little confusing.

I played like shit today. I asked the instructor if people can just have an off day, and he said, "didn't you hear about Phil Mickelson completely choking at the Master's this weekend?" I felt a little better, but hoped that maybe I didn't get a little cocky from doing so well the past couple of weeks. Golf is complicated. 401K's are complicated.

$*&%*&&)_^$#()_+_(

It makes it somewhat difficult to get work done when I wasn’t connected to the company’s network. This means I couldn’t check my email, print anything or even get to some of my files. And of course, we don’t really have an IT guy, the VP of Operations does all that stuff and he was suspiciously gone all day today. And of course, one of the files I can’t get to, a client needs me to email to him, which I can’t do. At least I think that’s what he was yelling on the voicemail.

And did you know your ears can sweat? Apparently if you take an aerobics class in a gym where the air conditioning doesn’t work, they can.

What a fucking day.

But the weekend was a lot of fun. I drank way too much and was probably pretty stupid, but drunk or not, I laughed a lot. And we watched A LOT of Arrested Development. And Laura discovered she likes Mexican Martinis. A LOT of Mexican Martinis. PTT got the honor of sleeping on butter. And we all learned that Laura’s dog could bite our faces off.

Good times. Good times.

Hazah, Hazah

Laura is coming, Laura is coming, Laura is coming today! Ole!

I bullied her into getting here at 4:30 instead of 6:00. But I haven't seen her in two months, so we have a lot to stuff into two days. I think when you haven't seen a person in a while, you deserve at least 15 hours for every month you have not seen them. There can be some bend in those rules, par example, if someone had to travel far. But Laura only drives like two hours, so these rules stick.

It is supposed to be 95 degrees Saturday. Whooo, that is hot! I hope I don't get too dehydrated from drinking and then get sun stroke at the Botanical Gardens and pass out into a lovely bunch of flowers. I am sure that me being taken away by an ambulance would put a little damper on the weekend.

Last night in preparations of Laura's arrival, I was tidying up and whatnot and at around 10:15 pm, I decided to throw my bathmat into the washer. I read the tag and it said it could be machine washed, but when it was done washing, around 10:50 pm, some of the material was coming off, and some had come off in the washer. It wasn't falling apart, but it had made a kind of mess. So, I run the sopping wet mat to the bathroom and hang over the bathtub and then I go back to clean the inside of the washing machine. By 11:07 pm, when I was heading to bed, I thought, perhaps it wasn't worth all the trouble to wash the bathmat and that I may never do it again. And that was before 11:17 pm when I decided I was really hot and needed to turn on the air conditioner, before finally laying down in bed for good at 11:18 pm.


I'm tired and hot just thinking about all that. Bon weekend et Jour De Pères Heureux.

A little bit of pee

Last night I happened to catch a show on Comedy Central called "Dog Bites Man" or "Man Bites Dog" or something. Anyhoo, it is about a television news team who are verrrrry politically incorrect. On last night's episode they had to attend sensitivity training, because they are completely insensitive. At one point the woman on the team was saying she had a dream about having sex with a black man and wondered if it was racist because the dream guy had a stereotypically large penis.

The best, the best line in the show was when they were talking about a guy who was gay AND in a wheelchair. His nickname was:

Rolaids

I thought I was going to piss my pants.

FORE

My eyes are droopy today. And I even got to sleep a little earlier last night. What gives?

Last night at my golf lesson, the instructor told my dad that I was doing so well, that every time he walked past me, I was hitting the ball really well. Then this older woman (she's the one you have in every class; won't stop talking, tells dumb stories) goes on about how smooth I like when I am swinging. This is very nice to hear, but very funny for two reasons:

The instructor was telling this to my dad and not to me. It's like I am a little kid or something. Last week I thought the instructor was much younger than he really is (I discovered he is probably in his mid to late 30's), this week I think he thinks I am younger than I am. Maybe it's the new baseball cap I got.

I didn't tell anyone that I had had some experience with golfing. I just said thank you. I mean, I barely know these people, why would I share my life history with them.

I have a little bit of sunburn at the top of my farmers tan. Maybe this year I will actually get a tan. That would be kind of cool. Well, maybe shooting for a tan is over-hoping. I guess it would be cool to not look so pasty in comparison to everyone else.

Jouer au golf heureux, bronzage heureux, heureux quoi que vous ayez choisi de faire aujourd.

Is it Tuesday Yet?

Let's give it up for the longest day ever! Woo hoo. This is probably just the beginning of the longest week ever! Woo hoo. I think half of the problem is that I can't get comfortable in my office. I get hot and I turn on the air conditioner and then I FREEZE. It is actually quite amusing; I have a full sized window unit for one room. That's a lot of cool air, my friends.


I got the invitation for my high school reunion and they really needed a tech writer or something for help with their invitations. It had a tiny questionnaire about our lives and the directions were to use this as an RSVP and send it with the money we are supposed to send. And on the questionnaire there is a spot that we are supposed to mark if we are attending or not. But then it says (like three times throughout the whole flyer) to RSVP with money. So if we're not going and not going to send money, should we not RSVP? It is very confusing. Speaking of sending money, although I never had any intention of going, at first I thought, "oh they're asking for money…well that makes sense," until I read that it's only appetizers and a cash bar. I mean, maybe if we had dinner and an open bar, I could see sending money. What is the money the attendees are sending in going towards? And I thought when we graduated there was some sort of fund or something? But obviously the money is very important since it is mentioned so much on one page. Anyhoo, after that invitation, I am really glad I am not going. It is much less complicated to just throw it in the garbage and pretend I never went to high school.

LON-GEST DAY EV-ER!

What's On the Menu Tonight

I am going to try my hand at crab cakes. I hope that they are delicious. I am also making a lemon dill sauce for the crab cakes to be covered in. Or it can be used for the aparagus. It shouldn't be used for the strawberry pizza.

I love it when people come over...I get to cook new things. Although, one day it is going to fail miserably and the food will be completely disgusting. Maybe that night will come next week when Laura is here...hahaha.

Ok, I am off to practice for my next golf lesson. I hope I haven't forgotten everything I learned.

UPDATE...

Ok, so the crab cakes were delicious. Unfortunately, they didn't maintain their cake form, so it was more like crab cake casserole. But like I said, delicious none the less. Everything else turned out perfectly.

!

Apparently if I want to have the one child I think I might, I will have to have it with a young man.

Old Sperm Causes WHAT?!?!?!

Introducing the (supposed) 8th Wonder of the World

So Brangelina released pictures of their baby, Shiloh on People. I suppose that sometimes pictures don’t do justice, but she just looks like a regular baby. Is it just me or did everyone else expect her to be made of gold? I mean don’t get me wrong, unless she got all the ugly genes, someday she will be a very beautiful girl. But what a poor little thing; she raised such high expectations; she’s got a lot to live up to. I almost feel sorry for her.

For one thing, I believe Brangelina had her as some sort of political statement. “We can have an all American baby, but make her tolerant of diversity in the womb.” She’s either going to grow up to President of the World, or racist and ignorant (you know, just to rebel).

Second of all, how pissed do you think her adopted brother and sister are. I mean, Maddox was the most famous celebrity baby of all time and he’s just been totally replaced. And Zahara looks like an alien. I just want to take the little tykes aside and tell them, “Face it kids, Mommy and Daddy are not going to love you as much anymore. A better, more exciting baby actually came from Mom’s womb. You two just came from some third world countries.”




Lastly, I do hope Brangelina learn to live with bodyguards and such, because of all the crazies in the world that thinks little Shiloh holds some sort of magic in her. Also because I do forsee a major breakdown in Jennifer Aniston’s future, you know, once Vince Vaughn leaves her and she is truly alone.

So I would like to direct my parting words directly to Shiloh: Even though you look like any other baby, and you might not be able to walk through walls or over water, I do hope that you can manage to do all your major milestones (like walking, talking, using the potty) like every other kid. But do watch out for your sister. I swear, someday she might try to take you back to her home planet.

Golf Lessons = Life Lessons

I was watching a movie (Where the Truth Lies) the other night and lo and behold, Danielle from Lost was in it. She was clean and groomed so it took me a while to recognize her.

Anyhoo, I started my golf lessons last night and it was fun. It was nice having 100% success hitting the ball. Norman had mentioned that maybe the teacher would be hot and little dirty. Well, he wasn't really hot and golf pros are never dirty. I think it's the first thing they learn. They all wear somewhat baggy, khaki pants, a polo shirt, clean, look-like-new golf shoes and a baseball cap. And when I say they all wear that, I mean THEY ALL wear that. I think it is a required uniform. NMSU was one of the few schools with a professional golf management program and the guys would travel in packs and they looked like robots.

So, where was I? Oh yes, my golf lesson. There is something strange about someone your age (and let me face, probably a little younger) saying, "That's a girl!" when you hit a ball really far. The best part about anything to do with golf is the 19th hole. Although the four beers I drank did not help to hydrate my overworked muscles, so I am a tad sore today. But it is a good sore.

Speaking of Norman (yes, I did mention Norman), that really sucks about your rental house getting hit by the hurricane. Are the people living there still able to live there? What kind of damage has been done?

Theory for Thought

We kind of had a glossic discussion with PTT about that gross Skittles commercial, but here is another thought on what is mono or polyglossic.

So I realize that Public Enemy's "Fight the Power" has been monoglossic for ages. But what do you think of it being used in a Turbo Kick aerobics class. I mean, that's kind of polyglossic. Or perhaps it is the person who put together the routine to the music who is polyglossic. Either way, it's got some potential.

What do you all think?

I Spend a lot of Time at the Gym if the Only Interesting Things I Have to Talk About Revolve Around the Gym

I realized the other day that I read over people's shoulders on the machines next to me. I'll be eliptical training along and then I notice that they are reading Us Weekly or Star or some other glossy entertainment magazine and I am absorbed. I don't think anyone has noticed yet, or if they have, they are a lot nicer than me. If I noticed someone doing the same thing, I would give them a look that says, "There's a whole box of magazines over there...get your own."

I ran into my new mailman yesterday. He is very, very good looking. And of course, of course, I am just coming back from the gym and am sweaty and gross and because I am so sweaty, my already large t-shirt has expanded and hangs on me to my knees, just covering my gym shorts, which although were in the women's section, I am convinced are actually men's shorts because they are so HUGE. In other words, oh yeah, I was hot.

I have been practicing my yoga and I can hold my legs behind my head now. It is supposed to be a really controlled movement and I pretty much...well, I swing my legs back there and prop up my hips. BUT, I can do it.

Oh and this last tidbit, well this is going to throw you right over the edge, Norman. A midget has joined my gym. And although The Station Agent has made me come a long way from my fear of little people, I must say, I was not prepared to see a midget huffing and puffing on the treadmill. I wonder if she will ever try the eliptical trainer. I am not sure she would reach the handles. You know, exercise equipment is very small people friendly. Midgets and dwarves could sue for discrimination and then there would be miniature exercise equipment.

Ok, I've gone to far.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

There are a couple of work vehicles here; not cars, but the things that move things and whatnot. And when they go backward, they make that beeping sound. BEEP BEEP BEEP!

During the past couple of days, somebody has been driving across the entire building BACKWARDS. So for five minutes, all I hear is BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Was it annoying to read all that? Imagine listening to it.

When I was a kid I used to be able to lay flat on the floor and then swing my legs up and over my head and hold them there by pressing on my hips. I didn't realize I was doing a yoga move. But now that I want to do it as a yoga move, I can't anymore. What the frick? I am so going to practice everyday so that when I go back to class next Thursday, I will blow everyone away. I am also going to practice my tree pose while I am doing the dishes.(The instructor says yoga should not be a competition with others or with ourselves. I really just want to blow everyone away for my own personal satisfaction and not as competition.)

Je suis fatigué et affamé et heureux c'est vendredi. Ayez un bon week-end.

Titre

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

This morning I got into my office and I didn't have my coffee. I thought I had left it in my car and then honestly began to wonder if I had remembered to bring it from home at all.

But to end the suspense I just created, I did remember to bring it from home. I had just left it in the car.

I just recently got a four drawer filing cabinet in my office. I don't have to keep my shit in a box. It's awesome. It makes me feel organized, but I don't really think I am. I just put all my files in there without any system. But I don't know how to systematically organize things. Aren't there people out there who do that kind of stuff for a living? Maybe I should hire them to organize my filing cabinet (in which I only truly use two drawers).

In case you happen to not hear through email, various blogs or by phone call, Laura is going to have a baby. Haha…ok, she got a car. But you would think it was a baby. Or at least have a hand to shake. "I want to shake the Focus' hand." HAHAHA. All kidding aside, that is very exciting news. And she's driving me to the botanical gardens.

Au revoir, chacun. Ayez un jour splendide

Happy Anniversary

I started my job one year ago today. For the first three months, when I was technically working through the placement agency, I worried that I wouldn't be hired on. For the first four months after I was officially hired on, I was afraid something would happen and I would be laid off or worse yet, fired. You see, my first real job out of college only lasted seven months before they declared bankruptcy and unnecessary staff were laid off. So seven months was an important mark for me. Now it has been a whole year. Not that I don't realize it could all be gone tomorrow; I just don't stop to think or worry about it as often anymore.

You know that movie, "Sliding Doors" with Gwyneth Paltrow and the whole plot is set off by how she is fired from her PR job because she borrowed a few bottles of vodka (or something) and she is actually holding the bottles she bought to replace them in her hands when they tell her? I don't think Gwyneth's character ever thought she could be fired. But shit happens.

Anyhoo, congratulations to me.

In other news, I had a great weekend. It was awesome to see my friend Jill, but we had to say goodbye after only two hours. I got a tiny sunburn on my arm and my nose is a little red.

I also watched King Kong and by the end I truly believed Naomi Watts loved Kong. And for some odd reason, it didn't seem weird.

Random Memoire

In the summer of 1999, I was visiting my parents for several weeks and one afternoon I set off to see "American Pie." At the time, I wore kind of platform flip flops. There were a couple of stairs I had to walk down to go into the theater. I got caught in my flip flops going down the stairs and landed flat on my ass.

I ended up with the biggest bruise on my ass.

It was so big, that when I returned to Las Cruces, NM a week later, I made my roomate look at it.

It was that big. And took a long time to go away.

A Gift for the Long Weekend

As you all know, I have a deep love for Clive Owen. I recently discovered some commercials he did for BMW a few years ago. These are not just any commercials; they are 10 minute mini-movies each directed by a famous director. I enjoyed the one with Madonna, directed by Guy Ritchie. But I just watched one with Gary Oldman and James Brown and that was awesome.

Discovering all new Clive material is like winning the lottery. For my eyes. But you don't have to love Clive to enjoy them.

Check them out

This is youtube. On this page there are some commercials (they're called "The Hire") and if you go to page 1, you will find a couple more.

Enjoy the long weekend y'all.

...

Dear Lost Creators,

First of all, I want you to know that I am a true blue fan. I would never stop watching you; I am with you until the end. Seriously, the only way I would stop watching is if I went blind, and only then because I would literally not be able to watch you.

And I am thankful that you answered the question about how the plane crashed. It wasn't fate, it was just magnets and stuff, and that eliminates the theory that Libby was an "other." And it's good to find out that it is important to press the button every 108 minutes; although now I am not sure if there is a button to press anymore. And I was relieved when Jack, Kate, Sawyer and Hurley realized that Michael was, indeed the killer in the hatch a few weeks ago (uh, I mean, yesterday). And I like it that at the end of each season you remind us of how many days they have actually been on the island.

So like I said, thanks for some answers, but I am not thanking you for all the questions you have created. And I think you are mean for making me wait three months for the answers.

Are Locke and Ecko dead? And why did Charlie not seem that concerned? He knows what happened. I guess Claire just gives a smile and he forgets about everything.

And the others are just going to let Michael go? I think that's bullshit and I better see Michael and Walt hanging upside down and dead, Mussolini-style, from some trees.

And are the others turning Jack, Kate and Sawyer into others? And what was that look between Jack and Kate? I'm not the only one who saw it; Sawyer was all like, "What the fuck," with his eyes. Did Jack and Kate make a secret plan?

And what does Desmond's girlfriend have to do with everything? Did she set Desmond up? And if she did, why does she still have a picture of her and Desmond. And how long before we see a flashback with her and Jack's dad? Because I am sure there will be one.

And finally, if Jack, Kate and Sawyer are to become others, how will the other survivors (Charlie, Claire, Sun, Jin, et.al.) survive without their natural born leader, Jack, who is also their only doctor?

If you could get back to me with some storylines or perhaps even some pre-writing, probably in that mapping thing with all the lines and boxes would be best, I would appreciate it so I don't have to wait the three months and then the following nine to find answers.

Thanks.

Sincerely Your Devoted Fan,
Witnesssuzy

Summer Fun

Uh, it's only Tuesday and it's already been a long week. I am not even really counting the days until the long weekend because I'm going to be busy this weekend. On Friday night I am going to my parents to spend the night because early Saturday, my mother and I are going up to Grand Haven to put plants on my grandparent's and uncle's graves. And then we are going to drive back. Yep, that's seven hours in a car to visit dead people. Not exactly my idea of a great time, but my dad is out of town, so someone needs to go with my mom and I figure, I don't even know where they are buried, so, it won't hurt me, right?

Then on Sunday I am driving to Columbus. One of my best friends from high school who actually lives in Florida is going to be there for an ultimate Frisbee national championship (or something like that), so I will probably see a match with her. This I am excited about. I haven't seen her in three years. Actually, that isn't that long ago compared to some friends I haven't seen in a while. Anyhoo, I am excited, but that will add about six more hours of driving, but I do what I do, right?

What a way to kick off the summer.

Pecan Farmers

Laura and I were chatting the other day and I was telling her about my friend, the pecan farmer. Laura thought it was weird that I knew a pecan farmer. Not that I knew a pecan farmer per se, but that pecans needed farming. But they do.

I actually talked to pecan farmer over the weekend and relayed this story. He said yep, he still has the biggest and best nuts in New Mexico.

This is the guy who made me a bong out of a potato.

His was also the first penis I saw at college. Not because we fooled around or anything, but because sometimes at parties, he would walk around with his pecker hanging out of his pants for fun.

And if I would've kissed him, there was a 60% chance I could've tongued out the fake teeth he had.

If you had told me when I first met the pecan farmer that I would still be talking to him nine years later, I would not have believed you. I would've said that you had pecans in your head.

I Need a Show if I Want to Cook

So it is my mom's birthday Tuesday and for all you key lime pie fans, I am going to make her a key lime cake. (And yes, Laura, I am going to make it and yes, I have read the DaVinci Code…haha). I'll let you know how it goes.

I love to cook and bake and try new things, even if it is as simple as the apple and cheddar sandwiches I made a few weeks back. I like trying new things and I like making my guests try new things (and then looking down on them behind their backs if they don't like it). And now that I have a real job and can actually afford the ingredients, I pretty much make whatever I want. I just thought about perhaps making my own sushi.

But it is hard to cook for only one person. And I don't think it would be any easier if there was a second person. I work all day and either go to the gym right after work or about an hour after I get home. I could cook on the weekends and if I cook it is on the weekends, but I am really most likely going out to eat or grabbing something quick before I am to go and do something. Some people cook a lot on Sunday to last the whole week, but I don't like making casseroles because they usually have too many calories and I don't want to cook pork chops or chicken breasts for the whole week. Can you imagine what they would taste like by Wednesday, because I don't even want to think about them on Friday.

Oh well, I guess I will just never get to fully utilize my gift, but writing this has made me want to cook something this weekend. Maybe I will make French onion soup. Except I don't know how to use my broiler…DRATS.

Level Jumping...You Gotta Do What You Gotta Do to Survive

I still read the blogs on xanga. Although I don't read Laura's because she literally copies and pastes her myspace blog into it, I do read Norman 's everyday (which by the way, I am glad that Norman is doing better). I also read a blog by this woman in…I'm not sure where she's from, but she's about my age and a lawyer and hilarious. I don't know her, but I love reading about her life. Recently she wrote a post about this woman she works with who she accused of trying to level-jump. TL (the blogger) said that while she liked casually hanging out with her; chatting at work, etc., the level jumper keeps asking her to do major things like go camping or go on a double date (it's like the episode of Seinfeld where someone asks Jerry to help him move when they haven't known each other that long).

So you maybe wondering why I am writing about someone else's blog…let me explain.

I need friends. Ok, that made me sounds pretty lame. I guess I need people in my vicinity to hang out with. I met a woman through Norman, and I saw her a couple of times recently and we had talked about hanging out. Ok, so I guess that is level one. So now I want to act on it. I want to email her and say, "Let's really hang out." I have a feeling I might be level jumping; like I might be the poor girl that people say, "Let's hang out," to get me off their back. But I am cool and fun to hang out with; I just need to be given a chance.

And if I am going to level jump, I need to do it soon. This weekend I am going to a couple's house to watch a movie. I am not going because I want to, but because I am starting to really like spending weekends alone and I don't think that is beneficial to my future. But I don't think movie weekends with this couple are beneficial to my future either.

When did getting friends seem harder than dating?

Hypotheticals are fun...unless someone is going to die - Part 2

In the second part of my hypothetical situation post, I suppose if I was, hypothetically, a surgeon who makes a patient’s heart worse to get better and that patient died, I suppose it would be hypothetical karma that was out to get me. But that doesn’t make it any less hypothetically sad. And a few hypothetical tears welled (or, uh, I mean, could well) in my eyes.

And by the way, I am beginning to hypothetically hate a surgeon who everyone hypothetically loves. He’s a baby.

And now I have to hypothetically wait four months to find out what happens to my hypothetical situation. Wait, that isn’t a hypothetical wait, that’s a real one. Sigh…oh well.

Hypotheticals are fun...unless someone is going to die.

Let's say hypothetically I was a doctor; a surgeon. And I fell in love with a patient who needed a heart transplant. I don't think I would almost kill him so he could get a heart. And if I did, I would certainly make sure the cardiologist wasn't lying in the parking lot with a gun shot wound in case anything went wrong.

But that's just me.

AH!

I have found the creepiest piece of Mother's Day clip art.




I hope you don't let this image ruin your Mother's Day. Love your mothers anyway.

It's Getting Hot in Here

It's 75 degrees outside, but it is much hotter in my office (exact temperature you may ask? I don't know) and I am this close to turning on my air conditioning. But there is a part of me that is thinking it's only May and only 75, there is no need for air conditioning.

You know that scene in "The 40 Year Old Virgin" where he is karaokeing to "Word Up" all by himself and he makes his voice go up and he points his toe out? That is running through my head. Then it makes me think of a skit fron Saturday Night Live a few years, around the time musicians were going before the Supreme Court to say that downloading music was wrong. In the skit, there were all the awful musicians going before the Supreme Court, like, Cameo, and every time he was asked a question, he would answer with, "Word Up," and he would say it like he sings it in the song.

Ok, so I recently discovered there is a healing institute in Perrysburg. People go there to learn how to do massages and they have community education for things like yoga, and what not. I was looking at their website ( haiohio.com) and on their list of services is a one hour massage at home.

Yes, I started thinking dirty.

But let me explain why.

A couple of months ago, I was watching a movie called Happy Endings (really good, much better than I expected) and in it there was a masseuse and he would give his women clients a little extra massage, if you know what I mean.

The a few weeks ago, some masseuse sued Kevin Costner for getting a little too relaxed during his massage. This event prompted a small article on like people.com or ew.com about the influx in crazy massage stories. And I think it was Teri Hatcher (the queen of TMI) who said that she recently had a Happy Endings type massage that she didn't know if she was being molested or if she should make another appointment.

Ok, it would be pretty ballsy for a masseuse to take these sorts of liberties with their clients. I mean, is there like an international symbol or code word? If I got a massage and said something like, "Use the papaya" would I get a special massage? And if you paid them an extra $30 would that just go all the way and massage you with a whole different part of their body?

Isn't it interesting how there is a whole different culture out there that you don't even know about.

Long Story, I'm Short

I'm short. I am no midget or anything, but I am short. Let me illustrate how short.

Yesterday I bought some pants. They were marketed and labeled as shorts. They were long shorts; Bermuda shorts is what they called them when I was little. I bought a pair and tried them on when I got home.

I now own a really great pair of Capri pants that are the perfect length.

###

In other earth shattering Witnesssuzy News, I went and saw an exhibit of paintings by Jerry Garcia. They were really cool. He was quite a talented man.

And yesterday, I received a bottle of Midori and it is made by Suntory. When I made a Midori Sour last night, I said, "For relaxing times, make it Suntory time."

Ta Da

So here you go, what you've all been waiting for.

A picture of Butter.

It's One of Those Weird Holidays

Felix Cinco de Mayo, everyone. I was actually, just reminded that it was Cinco de Mayo. I mean, I kind of knew it was the 5th of May, but I didn't think about the holiday aspect. I guess that means I'll have to find some Tecate or Pacifico or something fun and Mexican to drink tonight. Or maybe I will drink regular beer, but eat some salsa. I will definitely not be drinking tequila. Not that kind of girl I guess. Not enough passion for this particular holiday.

So, last night PTT im'd me the best news ever. He had purchased both season 1 and 2 of Arrested Development for only $30. That is the craziest best deal ever. I had once said that I would wait until my birthday or Christmas to ask for Arrested Development, but this was just too good to pass up. So by this time next week, I can enjoy the hilarity of Arrested Development as much as I want. And it should be my birthday or Christmas by the time the third season is out. I can ask for that.

I hope everyone enjoys the weekend.

19 Year Old Harvard Student, and Possibly A 28 Year Old Nobdy Plagariaze Author

I think that I am honestly the most easily distracted person ever. And it sucks to be distracted at work (perhaps, it doesn't suck so much as it is a hindrance). For example, I was just reading a story on cnn.com (distraction #1) about the 19 year-old Harvard student who plagiarized not only Megan McCafferty, but now people are discovering she plagiarized Sophia Kinsella and Meg Cabot (by the way, what is up with that? I mean, "chick lit" is actually a pretty small community. If you have read McCafferty, odds are you've read Kinsella and Cabot. And if you are reading 19 year-old Harvard student's book, you may notice similarities. It's interesting to see a girl smart enough to get into Harvard behave so stupidly. But I guess we all know that book smarts doesn't equal street smarts and obviously this girl is not from the streets.) So anyhoo, it said in the article that McCafferty had a blog and I thought to myself, "well, I like to read blogs." So I searched for it and found it and probably could've spent forever reading it, but after a few minutes, I turned away. And actually the few minutes is showing great restraint for me.

McCafferty's blog is interesting; I may try to remember to go back to it. She interchanges current entries, with ones from her real girlhood diaries. Actually, maybe I won't go back, because I barely care what I thought as a 10-14 year old girl. I definitely don't care what this woman thought. But she refers to the plagiarizing incident, as "You Know." Semi-example sentence:


Listen to this interview with blahdedy blah, I taped it before. You Know.

Haha, did I just kind of plagiarize from her? I didn't use quotes. I said it was a semi-example because it wasn't word for word. Oh well, if I am, then damn, McCafferty is having the worst week ever!

Some Things Fresh, Some Things Rotten

The weather people did not lie when it said it was going to rain. I think they may have lied about how much it was going to rain though. But we need it. The grass needs to get greener and our flowers need to grow. Or…well…yeah, flowers need to grow. Speaking of flowers and plants and the like, I think I am going to buy an Oleander tree this weekend. And then I can make poisonous milk and use it to kill a lover who has spurned me. Now that sounds like a good weekend.

It's strawberry season, which is a good season. I bought some last night and I was excited when I got home and realized that I have some Cool Whip, which is the perfect dip for strawberries, if you ask me.

Last night while I was at the grocery store, buying strawberries, this family comes in with a screaming toddler. And when I say screaming, I mean SCREAMING. All throughout the store. I could hear the kid in the shampoo aisle. I could still hear him when I was checking out. And the awful thing was that the mother kept looking at the kid and laughing. I think the laughing was inappropriate for two reasons. First, I think the laughter made the kid madder, therefore the screaming picked up in intensity. Second, the mother laughing was an indication that she had no respect for her fellow shoppers. And I felt as though I was being punished for not liking kids by having to listen to this little monster and it's Medea-like mother. I really wanted to go up to her and thank her for not only ruining my shopping experience, but for reminding why I don't like most kids or their parents.

Monday

Oh, another Monday. Back to real life after a weekend of good, old-fashioned fun and then some, good old-fashioned couch time (yes, I have my new couch, but I don't want to write too much about it until I can add pictures.) Back to the gym and eating apples instead of English candy. And then there is the grocery shopping, the bill paying…oh the madness.

On my way to work I was stopped by a light and I realized that I am stopped by this light 90% of the time. Doesn't matter how fast or slow I drive, what time I leave, I am almost always stopped by this light. Sometimes I can zoom through it if I am not behind someone turning right or an extremely old person, but even then it is pretty much yellow. I think that is weird. Is it destiny or just logistics?

Do you ever feel your eyelid twitch? I was feeling mine twitch while I was in the bathroom so I looked in the mirror and I could see my eyelid twitching. It's like it's giving a miniature wink. It is weird. Ask Yahoo says this about eye twitching,

It appears most eye twitches {sic} are harmless, involuntary spasms of the tiny muscles surrounding the eye. Some causes are fatigue, squinting a lot, consuming too much caffeine, or working in a less than ideal visual environment, e.g., staring at a computer screens for long periods of time. Just like a muscle spasm at any other part of the body, an eye twitch can mean you've taxed your muscles and need to relax them.

I need to relax my eyes. You think that if I took a nap at my desk and my boss discovered it, I could blame eye twitching and get away with it?

Just Like A Stick of Butter

My new couch is ready to be delivered. Unfortunately it is going to be delivered on Saturday, while I am in Cincinnati. Fortunately, my parents are going to come over to my house and wait and let them in. And then, when I get home on Sunday, my beautiful, stick of butter couch will be awaiting me. And I'll probably want to leave to come home early Sunday so I can enjoy my first hours with Butter.

Most of the time being single doesn't bother me. I am pretty independent. I can take care of a lot of things. But being single also means, I have to rely on my family for a lot of the small stuff. Waiting for my couch, helping me move the old one, answering questions about little things, like where to go for car de-icer are all things that I have to call my family for. Thank God for them that they are (most of the time) willing to help me out without (a lot of) payback. Although when I moved last summer, one of my brothers told me to get a boyfriend to help out next time I move. I think I should've told him to stop having babies with crazy women.

But back to the couch…now in addition to getting ready and packing for the weekend, I am going to have to move some shit around…like end tables and coffee table and label the buzzer for my parents. Of course it will all be worth it in the end.

Learning New Things

I love listening to NPR because I learn many wonderful new things. For example, this morning I learned about how during the Revolutionary War, slave owners would send in their slaves to fight, but while the slaves were supposed to be fighting, they found the British and told them they would fight for them in exchange for freedom. After the war was over, the British-side fighting slaves went to Freedom Town/Sierra Leone Africa where they started new communities. George Washington's main slave was one of a few to actually lead this movement. Not that their new lives were all rosy; it took them many, many years of bad weather and other circumstances to really make their new communities worth while.

Did you know about that? I didn't, and for once I was glad that there was a train, so I had to stop and actually listen to the whole story.

###

Last night Fargo was on Bravo and I was reminded of why it is such an awesome movie and one of my favorite movies ever; it is the relationship between Marge and Norm. It is so sweet and so simple and actually very powerful in a film that deals with a lot of violence. Anyhoo, they are like an old couple; silent while they eat, they fall asleep with the TV on, she is supportive of his painting and he brings her lunch at the police station. In fact, Marge is the breadwinner, but it never seems like a big deal. Norm is happy to stay at home with his painting, why should he care when he loves Marge so much.

That really isn't the main part of the film, but it is just one of those details that make it a great movie. If you haven't seen it, you really should.

Not Waiting For...

...my hard drive. I am typing this comfortably from my home.
...my bike. I got it back from it's tune-up yesterday and immediately took it for a ride and it was awesome. It was such a beautiful day yesterday. Perfect for a bike ride. But I did realize that the riders who ride the tenspeed bikes (I don't know what they're called) and wear spandex and have cartoonishly large calves get way more respect on the trails than other bikers. They drive me crazy. They scare me too.

I am however still waiting for my couch. My wonderful stick of butter is not here for me to lay on and I am starting to get a little anxious. I just want to see it, feel it, touch it and grace it with my sleeping body.

And this has nothing to do with waiting, but I talked to my best friend from high school and she filled me in on all this gossip. Lots of stuff had happened. It's weird to hear about people you know, but don't really know anymore.

Toes

I have a bruise under the toenail on my big toe. It looks weird and it’s taking forever to go away. I’m not sure how it happened; it’s almost as if it appeared out of nowhere. It’s actually quite tame compared to some other toe injuries I’ve had. I’ve had bad luck with my toes.

I had some stubbed toes that were probably broken as a kid, but the real trouble began in the spring of 1998. I was at a pool and well, yes, I had had a couple of cocktails, so sue me. Anyhoo, I stubbed my big toe on a pool ladder. It probably would’ve healed in well enough time, but that same night I went to a party, had a couple more cocktails, got mad at someone and walked six blocks home. I am sure that didn’t help the stubbed big toe at all. In fact, if I had been a smart 20 year old, I would’ve stayed home that night and let my big toe rest. But I think a smart 20 year old is just a myth.

Well it healed, but soon after the healing, I sort of slipped down a couple of steps going home for the weekend, and scrapped up the side of my ankle (I still have the scar). Everything was fine over the weekend, but when I got back to school and had to walk around campus, my toes all of a sudden started turning black and blue. I’ve never had a part of my body literally turn black and dark blue, but every single one of my toes did. Needless to say, it spooked me (a pothead) out. So I went to the Dr. and initially, he thought I had gout, which I thought was an old man’s disease. But I had some x-rays and they found out I tore some ligaments in my foot. So it wasn’t necessarily my toes, but they did look nasty for weeks.

I was pretty lucky in the toe department until late winter, 2004. I stubbed one toe on one foot on the door stop to my bathroom. That was normal. It healed in due time. But not long after that, I stubbed the same toe on the other foot. This time I was lifting one leg over a waist high wire and slammed my toes into the door frame. Looking back, that may have been the silliest stubbing occurrence. I mean, did I have to swing my leg with that much force? How badly did I need to get from the kitchen to the bedroom, which were the two rooms the wire happened to divide?

So now another toe is injured again, but I can’t give you a funny story because I don’t know how it happened. One day, I swear, they are going to get traumatized and just fall off.

(A computer update: I ordered a new hard drive. We took out the old one and it rattled. I don’t think hard drives are supposed to rattle. I should have the new one sometime next week.)

My Poor Computer

Witnesssuzy is not all that happy today. It appears I need a new hard drive for my home computer. I guess it could be worse, right? But I really like having a computer. I like being online. Well, maybe by going through this I will be able to curb some of this online addiction.

Anyhoo, it is scary when something happens to your computer and you’re not really sure why. I kept thinking, I can’t afford a new computer right now. And then my thoughts turned towards everything on my computer I would lose. I mean, most of my important files have been backed up. But I might lose a few pictures. I know I will lose a couple of songs from iTunes. I will lose the Yahtzee game I downloaded about a year ago. But, I was given a number to call that would supposedly help me recover some files. But I don’t understand computers. How can my files be recovered when I can even get the computer past the screen that says “no hard drive, strike F1 to reboot.”

Oh well, hopefully by this time next week, everything will be as it should be.

And no Lost tonight. I guess we will have to wait to see what Michael has to say. Actually I kind of liked the show without Michael. And did anyone else notice that he was all freaked out and scared, but in the previews he’s all tough. “We can take them. I will lead you to them.” Whatev Michael.

Three Days

Having a long weekend, while quite awesome, makes it kind of hard to get back in the swing of things. I really have not wanted to put my all into work today. And an unknown id keeps calling me. I answered once, but no one was there. Are my readers trying to stalk me? Well stop it if you are. It gets in the way of me half doing my work.

I did some research on bike shops so I could take my bike in for a tune-up and I found a Cycle Works in Maumee (I bought my bike from the Cycle Works in BG). I got on their website and it said that appointments were more appreciated than stopping in. So I called and said that I would like to make an appointment and the guy goes on to explain that although I was free to make an appointment, it really is first come, first serve, so it might be better to just drop it off. That actually works a lot better for me, but because I am a writer/editor in a business environment, I couldn't hold back from mentioning that what their website says about appointments conflicts with what he was actually telling me about appointments. He probably hated me, but I am a dork. And once I was with my friend who found glass in her Chinese food and we didn't send it back, so I am even with the world in terms of service?

Anyhoo, I have to get my bike all gussied up because the weather is beautiful and it is time to ride. AND I found a trail much closer to my house than the one in BG, although it is like the one in BG, old tracks paved over. I am grateful to whoever thought about doing that, because I like riding my bike on them.

PTT and I were talking about children coloring eggs for Easter the other day. I figured my nephews would be coloring eggs and I was right, they did. But they were doing it for the first time. Apparently their mother didn't have that tradition growing up. My nephews are 7 and 4. They loved coloring eggs. I guess that could be one good thing about divorce; with one parent you get to do things you've never done before. Hooray for broken families.

I Wish Ben Lee Was in My Entourage...or Maybe I Wish I Was in His.

I've been watching "Entourage," a show Mark Wahlberg created about his experience as an actor with his own entourage. I like Marky Mark. He's super hot. He's not bad in movies, in fact I will go as far as to say I thought he was the best part of I Heart Huckabees. But the lead character on this show, the actor, the Marky Mark part is a little bitch. He's indecisive, apathetic and stupid. What a whiner. But very, very, very good looking. I would probably go and see Vincent Chase movies just because of that.

And celebrities are the most ridiculous people. I am assuming since Marky Mark is behind this show that it is pretty accurate and let me tell you about the celebrities on this show; they get whatever they want and are whiny. I think I almost feel sorry for them because they are so inept; they seem to be pretty worthless. And people go on the show and play themselves. I don't know what I would do if my beloved Clive Owen went on the show. But I really don't think he would.

###

Last night I had a dream that one of the girls in customer service came up with the idea that we turn our showroom into a coffee house and have performances and that would get people to buy shower doors. So they put some couches in the showroom and set up a stage, served some wraps, rice and cake and had Ben Lee perform. I was busy actually working when Ben Lee was performing, but when I was done, I went to meet him and he was gone and the couches and stage was gone, but the wraps, rice and cake remained. I was sad I missed meeting Ben Lee. I think he's cool.


In other words, dreams are weird.

23

23 must be an important age for musicians. I've heard it mentioned in two songs. One is, "What's My Age Again" by Blink 182 ("Nobody loves you when you're 23…") and the other is "Dancing Nancies" by the Dave Matthews Band ("23 and so tired of life, such a shame to throw it all away…"). They both have kind of negative connotations. I mean, I wonder if the number just fit and that's how it got into the song, or if it is a really important meaning to the song.

I just did a google search and Jimmy Eat World wrote a song titled, "23" and guess what…it isn't a happy song. It's about love and regret (or at least that's what I got from reading the lyrics). I think this is a strange phenomenon. Is 23 a mystical number?

I remember when I was 23 and I listened to "Dancing Nancies" a lot (it's still my favorite DMB song) and I loved the line about being 23. I remember my friend Chandy and I and her friend Matt sang that song at the top of our lungs one summer at her house. I graduated from college when I was 23. I made the second biggest move of my life when I was 23. 23 was a milestone year for me. Maybe I should write a song.

Actually, if I could go back and live a summer, I wouldn't mind going back and being 23 again.

Easter Pretzels

This morning I was watching the news and there was a story about using credit cards and they used some really old stock footage for it. For example, they used footage of the machine where you put your credit card on the carbon paper and slide the thing over it. And then they showed an ancient looking cash register and the cashier had to manually press all the numbers of the credit card. Now if I remember correctly, it's been a long time since stores have used either of those methods to "swipe" credit cards. It wouldn't hurt channel 13 to perhaps shoot some new stock footage, because even though in a year it might be outdated, it would still look better than what they have. No?

I was just reading CNN.com and it had an article about the 50 best jobs in the United States. They based it not only on salary, but stress level and future growth. A technical writer ranked 13 on the list and an editor ranked 19. Writers didn't do to badly; they ranked 25 and some form of advertising/public relations job showed up on the list three times. This makes me a happy, happy camper. And some of you who read this should be happy campers too. College professors were ranked 2 nd. However, you all realize that next year they are going to do the same poll and none of these jobs will make it on there. Life is funny that way.

I am going to be making my world famous strawberry pretzel pie for Easter. And I think I shall keep with the pretzel dessert theme and make some chocolate dipped pretzel rods and this time, I might actually get some candy or something to sprinkle the chocolate in.

I was trying to remember how I spent Easter when I was in college. Because I didn't live close to my family, so I didn't have to go home. But it was never like Thanksgiving where a bunch of my friends would get together for a dinner. So I am lead to believe that I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. It is actually kind of annoying that I can't remember even one Easter out of seven years. Sometimes I wish I hadn't smoked so much pot in college, I might actually have some memories.

A Blurb From My Memoirs

Here's a memory.

When I was in elementary school I rode the bus. I was observant, so I kind of knew the names of the other kids who rode the bus. Like there was this older boy Scott. He was in 5 th or 6th grade.

Anyhoo, one day I was in the lunch room. It must have been early in the year because I was wearing a nametag. Scott and some other older boys walked past me and read my nametag and said, "Hi Witnesssuzy." And I just said, "Hi Scott," back. Those kids freaked out because they didn't understand how I knew his name. He never noticed me on the bus and he got my name from my nametag. He practically shit his pants in surprise.

Today...UHHHH

Today was one of those days at work that I am glad I am not a Dr. I would've killed someone for sure.

A Jack Tale

As many of you know, my nephews provide a great deal of entertainment for me and my family. Yesterday was no different. We were playing April Fool's tricks and yelling, "April Fools." All of a sudden, Jack drops his pants and yells, "Tirck or Treat!"

Oddly enough, that's the stuff that makes me think I should have at least one.

Drugs, Nephews and Earl

When I was at my parent’s house last weekend when I was sick, they tried giving me lots of drugs. Well, they didn’t have to try. I pretty much took them willingly. It went from, “Here’s a strong decongestant” to “Do you want something to help you sleep, we’ve got Ambien.” Heck I even got a little baggie of Tylenol because I was running out.

I never leave without something. Sometimes it’s leftovers, sometimes it’s sleeping pills.

In other news, one of my nephews turns 7 tomorrow. When I found out he was born I was on Spring Break in Lake Havasu, AZ. Spring Break 99…literally. I can’t believe that he is that old. He’s a very sweet and sensitive boy. And can belch on command and makes really good, juicy fart noises.

Ok, so like the African guy on last night’s My Name is Earl says, “Seacrest Out.”

Do Not Read This if You Did Not Watch Lost Last Night, But Still Plan To

I was thinking about Lost last night before I fell asleep and I had so many thoughts about it, like how all the roles have seemed to change. Like Locke used to be the Zen, "nothing bothers me" guy. Now he is a little pansy. And Sawyer…well, ever since that ludicrous episode where Sawyer appears from the jungle claiming to be king, he’s become somewhat of a joke. You can feel it all over that island. People don’t fear him, they laugh at him. And Jack has become a combination of the old Locke and Sawyer. He seems to just deal, until he is forced to pull out some old Vegas tricks to make Sawyer look like an ass. Jack is turning into all sorts of yummy, yummy.

But here’s what really got me about last night’s episode: Sayid and etc. find the balloon and the grave, and although everyone has the same feeling that Henry Gale is a total "other," you would think that the group would just give in. His story was true. Sigh, that sucks. I mean, I would never think to dig up a grave for proof. But Sayid is crazy intense. He would dig up a grave and search through a rotting corpse’s body to find the license before he would give up the chance to torture some more. Take this memo: never piss off Sayid or appear shifty. He would probably rip the head off a kitten with his mouth to prove you wrong.

Oh and what is up with that black light stuff on the walls? Lost is sooo crazy. I love it.

Just for Fun

http://www.cnn.com/2006/US/03/28/rejected.greeting.cards.ap/index.html

This article is about Shoebox Greeting Cards and greeting card ideas that are not approved.

My favorite unapproved greeting card was a Christmas card.

On the outside:
"Christmas just isn't the same without peanut brittle."

On the inside:
"Or Jesus."

I would TOTALLY send that card.

I Swear, I am not on Drugs

This morning I woke up with a need to cough and when I did, my throat felt as though I had swallowed razor blades. So I took some Tylenol and then stopped and got some cough syrup and immediately took it when I got to work.

I don't like to use the little dosage cups they give you. They become sticky and gross and I don't have a sink near me to rinse it out and really, they just harbor germs, so I drink it straight from the bottle. Usually just a swig, but this morning my throat hurt so bad that I took two.
Long story short, I took too much cough medicine and got fucked up.

It was weird. It wasn't like being drunk (because it is alcohol free), it is kind of like smoking pot, but not really. I would move my head and it felt like my head was following me. Everything was fuzzy. I thought sitting still and using my fingers to prop my eyes open wider would help, but it didn't, didn't really at all. I just kept thinking, "What the fuck am I going to do if someone calls me?"

But I got work done, it just felt weird to do it. Like for every word I typed or placed on a document, I would have to take four minutes to freak out. It was weird.

And after about two hours, I started feeling better. Everything became clearer.

It's been a long time since I've been at work high as a kite.

But at least the cough and sore throat are gone.

Vegas, Baby, Vegas! Unfortunately the Journey Must End

I did not wake up with much of a hangover on Sunday, so that was good. My feet did hurt though. But I pushed through and got ready and packed so we could check out, figure out what to do with our bags and bus it down to the end of the strip to see the casinos there.

Our hotel held on to our bags while we went out that day. That was cool.

Our first stop that day was New York, New York. It was built to seem like you were in New York. It was cool, but obviously I didn't feel like I had visited two cities at once or anything. But it did have a roller coaster, but I am not a big roller coaster fan so, I just gambled a little, had some lunch, and a couple of beers. This was becoming my usual routine in casinos.

Ok, here is one weird thing. I had no idea what to expect in Vegas. I had absolutely no preconceived notions. But, I was looking forward to going to the MGM Grand casino. I am not sure why, maybe because big events are often held there or because it has the word grand in it, but I was disappointed by it. It didn't even have the fancy shops there like that other ones. Did I see Chanel there? No. Did I see Gucci or Armani? No. I saw the Cirque du Soleil store. And the main thing it sold was yoga clothes, but I was able to tell Patti what poses the mannequins were in.

We left the MGM Grand and were on our way to the M&M Store when we saw a bar. We stopped in. We had a couple of beers and started talking to these really funny guys and that was exactly the pick me up I needed from the disappointing MGM Grand. After we left there we went the M&M Store. ( I don't think I have yet mentioned that you can drink anywhere in Las Vegas. Walking down the street, in stores. It is pretty amazing.) So after the M&M store, we saw the guys we had been drinking with earlier and they were drinking beer out of a large plastic guitar. Well, we hunted that down and got one. And basically after that…we just kept refilling them as we made our way back to our own hotel.


Honestly, the drunkest I got that weekend was Sunday. I was completely shit-faced by the time we got back to our hotel. Some of that may have to do with the fact that I hadn't eaten since11:30 and it was nearing 7. Or it may have just been all the beer I drank.

We grab our stuff and get a taxi to the airport. We got something quick to eat and I finally boarded my plane at 11:30 p.m., 2:30 a.m. our time. Well, you know how I said in installment one that drinking and flying doesn't work so much for me? Well it really doesn't work when I am completely fucked up and flying. There is nothing worse than starting to get a hangover while in flight. And it was definitely not helpful that when I went to the bathroom I opened a door and there was some guy taking a dump. He yelled, "Hey!" And I think I yelled, "OH MY GOD." And then slammed the door shut. The flight attendant actually laughed and said, "He should've locked the door."

Anyhoo, and this is the end of my story. I arrived in Detroit at 6 am and drove home. And pretty much slept all day, but I am still tired and can't wait for this weekend so I can sleep some more.
And here's the moral of the story, have fun, it's Vegas. And if you walk everywhere, you don't have to worry about gaining weight. I drank a gazillion beers while I was there, ate all sorts of good food and McDonalds and I lost a pound while I was there.

And now back to your regularly scheduled program.

Vegas, Baby, Vegas: The Journey Continues

Saturday was a big, big day. I woke up with a terrible hangover, but had some breakfast and about a hundred Tylenols and we were off. We walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked and walked. It didn't seem like we walked as much as we did because we would go in and out of casinos looking around. And sometimes we didn't have to walk because they had people movers in the street. And the people movers went over hills; it was kind of freaky. I think my favorite casino was Paris . It was very pretty and it was like being inside the Eiffel Tower. I liked it even though I lost money there, because really, I lost money at all the casinos, except Mandaley Bay, where I won $2.50. But I did pay $6 for a Miller Light there, so in the end, I lost there too.

Anyhoo, because we're not big gamblers, we decided to go to Madame Toussaud's Wax Museum and it was weird. These wax people look scary real. I was afraid to touch them because I was afraid they were going to touch me. Like Princess Diana was going to spring to life and grab my hand. I saw a guy take his picture with J. Lo and he was all over her wax ass. You could also put on a wedding dress and pretend you are marrying George Clooney. They even had a wax minister, but I of course, would take no part in that.

Madame Toussaud's Wax Museum was only about half way up the strip, and that is when our feet started to ache a little bit. (ok, I'll be honest. A lot of my walking was going to the bathrooms. I wonder how hung-over I really was because I pee'd all day long. I know where every bathroom in every casino is. If you go, I will draw you a map.) We headed across the street to Cesar's Palace and had a frozen, slushy-like tropical drink. It was refreshing. But anyway, I think Cesar's is the largest casino because it has like, nine buildings. And the outside is super tacky. And no, I did not see Celine Dion, but I saw the coliseum they built for her to perform in. I did however see a singing fountain show that used animatronics, which made me think of Rodney. It had water and steam and fire, which I could feel the heat from. Let's just say that Vegas doesn't do anything half-assed.


We decided to walk back to our hotel, not take the bus, which in hindsight, I wish we had done. When we got back, I managed to take a 45 minute nap. I know, I know, I cheated in Vegas, but I am old and it felt good.

When we went back down to the main part of the strip to see the Treasure Island show, we did take the bus, because even though we stopped walking for a bit, our feet hurt twice as much by then. Ok, the Treasure Island show was this close to being porn on fake pirate ships. I couldn't believe some people brought their kids, and it wasn't even that cool; no tricks or anything. Probably the most disappointing part of the whole trip.

Our feet made us take a taxi to Mandalay Bay, where the Flogging Molly concert was at the House of Blues. We had several taxi drivers over the course of the weekend, but this one was the best. He sang "God Bless America." Out of nowhere, just started singing. He didn't really have a good voice, so we didn't tip him extra. We had a quick dinner, stood in many lines and finally got in, where we paid $30 for two Miller Lights and two shots of Jager. Haha. I drank my one beer and didn't drink again until after the show, my friend slammed four Guinnesses. The show was fucking awesome. They always put on an amazing show. I've seen them before, but, and never really thought the lead singer was all that good looking (I've always had a thing for the mandolin player), but Saturday night, there was something really sexy about him. I mean, kind of dorky, but sexy none the less.


So the show ended and I had a lot of drinking to do to catch up with my friend, Drunky McDrunkerson and while searching for a beer, we saw the mandolin player, who is actually, Shorty McMandolin Player, and I think he might've heard me say that, because he kind of gave me a dirty look. And there went my dreams of becoming Mrs. Shorty McMandolin Player.

Anyhoo, we eventually made our way to the Excalibur, although it was hard for me because even though my feet hurt earlier, I made a terrible shoe decision, so my feet hurt a hundred times as much as before. Plus they had been stepped on at the concert. But the weirdest thing happened; after a couple of beers and an enormous shot of Goldshlagger, my feet felt fine and walking was not even a problem. Anyhoo, we ended up at the Bellagio, which is where Ocean's 11 took place. I kept waiting for Matt Damon or Brad Pitt or even those guys who were brothers to appear. But they didn't. I did see the fountain that is featured at the end. And the music is the same too.

And that is where we ended the night. Actually we ended the night at McDonalds, but whatever. And me and my swollen feet hit the hay to rest up for another exciting day.

On the next, "Vegas, Baby, Vegas:" More Beer and More Walking (Will My Feet Ever Recover?)

Vegas, Baby Vegas: The Journey Begins

So I know the old adage is "What goes on in Vegas, stays in Vegas," but I'll tell you about my trip. I mean, I'll admit, I might not tell you everything, but I'll give you some good stuff.


I actually met up with my friend Patti in Phoenix. That was cool. It was weird seeing someone that you haven't seen in 3 and a half years across the room. For a few seconds I was like, "Is that Patti? Is that her?" But it was, so I switched seats with this guy so Patti and I could sit together and we ordered beers to chug because the flight is only 45 minutes long. I had my first in-flight beer. Seriously, my first. Some of you out there might think that odd for me. Or at least Patti did. It's just that I don't like drinking and flying all that much because it makes me feel kind of sick (and that feeling will come into play much later in the story), but this beer wasn't too bad.

After a 25 minute wait in an orderly line for a cab (this town loves its orderly lines) we head to our hotel, The Riviera, on the strip. As we drive to it, I can see all the lights and billboards and escalators. It is a very exciting looking city. I mean, I don't think I said anything on the ride because I was too busy staring.

Once we get to the hotel, Patti checks us in; I am still too busy staring because there are loud slot machines everywhere and people everywhere and it is hard to explain. But we chill for a tad in the room, drinking beers while I change my clothes and get ready. Then we head downtown, which is not the main strip. I guess it is the old part of Las Vegas; I am not too sure on that. But anyhoo, this strip downtown is covered in an awning and every hour on the hour (this city also loves doing everything on the hour) there is a light show. It's rad, it looks like the sky is images on a movie screen. And well, basically, we just drank our way in and out of casinos. We did drink beer out of a clear plastic football. That was a bad decision much later in the night after we did something else…that's a part that stays in Vegas.


Stay tuned for the next installment of my Vegas Trip, "Vegas, Baby, Vegas Part II: My Feet Hurt Really Bad, But Beer Can Fix Anything"

Never a Bridesmaid, Never a Bride

Finally got my book on Photoshop and I have learned soooooo much in just one day. I always knew that Photoshop rocked, but I now I believe it to FUCKING rock. It is amazing what can be done. Hooray for Photoshop. I am going to organize a parade.

Robin was here for the past two days and it was really great to see her and hangout. I can't believe she is gone for who knows how long now…summer or fall…either way it is too far away. But while she was here, I stayed out late. On Monday night I didn't get home until 9:30 and last night it was 10:20. I was such a rebel.

Congratulations are in order to my friend Laura in Seattle. She is engaged to be married. I am very excited for her because I know this guy is very important to her.

But I am about to sound like a total cliché and say that it makes me wonder if it will ever happen to me. Especially when Laura is like the fifth person I've known in the past 2 weeks to have some sort of important relationship news. Maybe if it came a little bit at a time I would feel better, but I get it all at once. And this is probably the way it is going to be. More and more people are going to send me emails or call me and say they are engaged. But who knows if I'll ever get that chance. And I can't even say "always a bridesmaid, never a bride," because no one asks me to be a bridesmaid either.

And I realize I kind of sound like an asshole, taking the spotlight from my friends, but screw it, today I am going to be selfish. I'll make up for it by buying them an expensive wedding gift.

Dream A Little Dream

I've been dreaming about the actor Ralph Fiennes. You may know him from movies like, Schindler's List, The English Patient, Made in Manhattan. He also plays Voldemort in the last Harry Potter movie (and probably the next Harry Potter movie too). In my dreams we are friends. The first dream was probably a month ago. He called me and he had broken up with his girlfriend and was kind of drunk and we reminisced over that time I went to England to visit him. Around the time of the first dream, I saw him on Inside the Actor's Studio and I think that may have been where the dream came from.

The second dream was last night. He had come to visit me and he was sitting on my couch and it was dark, probably early evening and there was a lamp on and he was just planning on sleeping on the couch and I remembered I had an Aerobed, which I called a blow-up mattress. He said that would be perfect, so I got it out and was going to put the air into it and he said I didn't have to do that yet, since he wasn't going to bed until tomorrow morning, and I replied, "Yeah, I guess you're right." I don't know why I dreamed of him last night, unless it was because I looked at my Netflix queue and saw that I am going to get The Constant Gardener this week. So after I watch it, I will probably have another dream.

But really, why Ralph Fiennes? I watched Two Weeks Notice last night, why not dream about Hugh Grant. I mean, I like Ralph Fiennes and most of his movies, but I think he has a weird hairline. Does anyone want to take a stab at analyzing this?

Technological Communication Is Out to Get Me

You know the other day when I wrote about all the emails I receive from our old receptionist? Well last night I got 19. NINETEEN! 19 emails. I literally almost shit my pants when I looked up from what I was doing to see all those emails. Literally, almost shit my pants.

So my boss has been gone for a couple of days. I had some things to ask him, nothing pressing, so when he wasn't here, I waited. Today I decided to ask when he would be in. Guess where he is.

Nope.

Nope.

Nope.

He's in CHINA!

I think when he comes back next week I am going to tell him that he should start sending out emails, so everyone knows where he is.

So I yelled at a little kid yesterday. For over a week I have been getting phone calls for Miranda and it's always a kid making them. Here is how all the calls start:

Me: Hello
Annoying Kid: Hellooooo?
Me: Hello
Silence
AK: Is Miraaaanda there?
Me: No, you have the wrong number
AK: Oh, ok.

I've had this conversation for a couple of days and then I just let it go to voicemail where AK hears, "Hello, you've reached Witness Suzy. I am unable to answer your call, please leave a message and I will return your call as soon as possible." Does that sound like a message Miranda might leave?

So yesterday AK calls again and I've decided I've had enough. So this is our conversation:

Me: Hello
Annoying Kid: Hellooooo?
Me: Hello
Silence
AK: Is Miraaaanda there?
Me: No, this is the wrong number, you've been calling this number for a week and it is always the wrong number.
AK: This is the wrong number?
Me YES
AK: Oh I thought this was the right number.

WHAT?!?!?!?!?!?!

I better not get a phone call today.

Have a good weekend everyone!

Humor and Music

Did anyone watch SNL this week and see the Natalie Portman rap. It was pretty funny, but I am afraid that SNL might overplay the funny rap, digital short film. That would take the specialness of "Lazy Sunday" away. A couple of weeks ago, Steve Martin hosted the show and I bet 65% of the show was digital shorts. That means only 35% of the show was live.

There was a short on the Steve Martin show where Steve and a cast member got really close to each other's faces to talk to each other. And I mean close, if they had stuck out their tongues, they would've been making out (on a sidenote, Ashley saw it and said if she was that close to a person, she would get the urge to headbutt them. I told her comedy is a serious profession). It was hilarious.

But "Saturday Night Live" should be...well, I am going out on a limb here and say it should be 75% live. And it should be free of Amy Poehler and Seth Meyers. And maybe a couple of the new guys, but not the "Lazy Sunday" guy.

In other hilarity, last week on "Gilmore Girls," Sebastian Bach of Skid Row (he has a recurring role on the show) was playing at a bat mitzvah and was singing "Hollaback Girl." Now that was funny.

A Sad One

Over the weekend my parents and I were talking about horseback riding and I said I never wanted to ride a horse because horses kill people. My parents kind of looked at me weird and I said, "well they do, they killed Christopher Reeve" and my parents both decided that I was kind of right.

Oddly enough, this morning the news said Christopher Reeves wife died of lung cancer. She had never smoked a cigarette in her life. Isn't that amazing? This news really saddened me, more than any news has in a long time. I immediately thought of their son and how sorry I felt for him. He's like 15 years old and the only father he knew was a man in a wheel chair who needed help breathing and well, basically functioning day to day and then, not even two years later his mother has died. I don't know what I would do and I can't even imagine what he must be feeling.

Here is something to end this a little lighter. Over the weekend, I got online and this guy who I kind of liked and tried to ask out a while back was online too. I kind of felt like Carrie, in that episode of Sex and the City when Aidan got online and she ducked down because she thought he could see her.

I didn't duck down or anything, but I was a little shocked. It seems as though sometimes, even when I don't mean to, I internet stalk people.

I wonder if anyone internet stalks me? I mean, besides that annoying girl I knew in college.

Post Game Analysis

Well, I was really only wrong on one category. and I really thought Heath Ledger was going to win. And I did throw up in my mouth when George Clooney won. And I had just burnt the roof of my mouth on a piece of pizza, so you can imagine who awful the throwing up in my mouth was.

And I thought that Jon Stewart was an awesome host. I hope he does it again next year.

So, now it's all done and I have to wait a whole other year. Do people who watch the super bowl feel this let down when it is done? Or am I, in the spirit of Hollywood, being a tad overdramatic?

Luck Be A Lady Tonight

Ok everyone, tonight are the Oscars (i.e. The Academy Awards) and if you know anything about me at all, you know I love award shows and this is like, the Super Bowl of award shows. If you all lived closer, I would have you over for a party, so I would like to give you my picks for the winners.

Best Actor - The nominees are: Terrence Howard, Hustle and Flow; Joaquin Phoenix, Walk the Line; Phillip Seymour Hoffman, Capote; Heath Ledger, Brokeback Mountain; David Straitharn, Good Night and Good Luck.

Ok, everyone is going with Hoffman. I thought he was phenomenal in the film, I really do, but after seeing Brokeback Mountain, I decided I wouldn't be surprised if Heath babe pulled it off, like the one upset of the night.
But who do I really want to see win, if I could pick the winners? Joaquin. I loved Walk the Line.

Speaking of Walk the Line...

Best Actress - Reese Witherspoon, Walk the Line; Felicity Huffman, Transamerica; Keira Knightly, Pride and Prejudice; Charlize Theron, North Country; Judy Dench, Mrs. Henderson Presents.

I'll be honest here, the only film I saw was Walk the Line. And Reese was amazing in it. I loved Joaquin in it, but I was more impressed by her. Felicity, well, I really like her on Desperate Housewives and I want to see her movie. Charlize and Judy already have Oscars and I don't really like the way Keira looks.

So, I really want Reese to win.

Supporting Actor - George Clooney, some dumb movie; Paul Giammotti, Cinderella Man; Jake Gylenhaal, Brokeback Mountain; Matt Dillon, Crash; William Hurt, A History Of Violence.

Let me begin by saying that I will be very angry if George Clooney wins. He is the most overrated piece of work ever. So be prepared for me to angry because most bets are on him to win. Uh, I don't want to see his smarmy, fake charisma face accepting his award....bleh!

So who do I want to win, well I didn't see A History of Violence, and well, I wasn't as impressed with Crash as the whole world was. I liked it, don't get me wrong, but I didn't think it was amazing, amazing. And I love Jakey-poo. He's sexy, even while playing a gay cowboy who wears a stupid mustache as he gets older. But I really want Paul Giammotti to win. I didn't see Cinderella Man, but the guy was AWESOME in Sideways and was like, the only castmember not to get nominated, so he should win because he was treated like shit last year.

Supporting Actress – Rachel Weisz, The Constant Gardener; Michelle Williams, Brokeback Mountain; Catherine Keener, Capote; Amy Adams, Junebug; Frances McDormand, North Country

Well, critics say Rachel Weisz is going to win, apparently she has won every award. I didn't see The Constant Gardener (it's on my Netflix list), but my mom liked it, so…I'm not going to disagree with critics here, but I wouldn't be surprised if there was an upset in this category as well.

Now my choice, well it's a tough one. I didn't see North Country (sounds way too depressing for me), but I love, love, love Frances McDormand. She was in one of my all time favorite movies, Fargo. She won an Oscar for that, so I don't want her to win it, I like the wealth of Oscar to be spread. Michelle was good in Brokeback, nothing spectacular, but good solid acting, and it would be kind of cool to see someone from the Creek win an Oscar. I thought Keener was good in Capote, but the performance I liked the most was Amy Adams in Junebug. No one will probably see this movie, but I thought it was sweet (it moves a little slow, but the story and the characters are really great) and she had the sweetest part. It's the kind of character that might annoy you in the beginning, but by the end you see how complex she really is. So, I was Amy Adams to win.

Best Picture – Brokeback Mountain, Capote, Good Night and Good Luck, Munich and Crash.

I really, really, really think that Crash is going to steal this away from Brokeback. But I really want Brokeback to win. I've never seen a love story as powerful.

Let me leave you with what I don't want to win…Good Night and Good Luck. Why you might ask? Two words: George Clooney. Fucking George, has to ruin everything.

Ok, a recap:
Best Actor – Heath Ledger (will win), Joaquin Phoenix (the winner in my book)
Best Actress – Reese Witherspoon (will win and should win)
Best Supporting Actor – George Clooney…throwing up in my mouth (will win), Paul Giamotti (he won last year in my book)
Best Supporting Actress – Rachel Weisz (will win), Amy Adams (should win)
Best Picture – Crash (will win), Brokeback (should win)

Pimp My LIcense Plate

This morning on my way to work, I was at a stop light and all I could smell was the fumes coming from the cars. And then all of a sudden I was surrounded by cars letting off fumes and I started to feel claustrophobic. It was really strange. It was as if the light could not turn green fast enough. You would think after four months of cold weather, I would be used to the smell of cars working overtime to stay warm. Maybe I am so used to it, I am sick of it. It is supposed to be cold through Monday and then warm up. Hopefully this warming trend will stay around and only get better. Hopefully, spring is here.

So while I was being slowly poisoned by car fumes this morning, I was also sitting behind a car with a personalized license plate. It read, “SPAZZY.” I personally don’t get personalized license plate. I think they are pretentious, in a kind of cheap way, which I know is odd, because they are probably expensive compared to regular license plates. That seems like the strangest place to spend extra money. And although, “SPAZZY” is a “STUPID” way to describe yourself, at least I knew what it said. Some license plates get crazy with using short symbols and numbers for letters and I know it is a personalized license plate, but I can’t figure out what it is supposed to say. I sit behind these cars and rack my brains out as to what these people are trying to exclaim to the world about themselves and in the end, I figure, they just wasted a ton of money.

Do you guys ever listen to “Car Talk” on NPR? It’s a very funny and educational listening treat. They should give me a segment, don’t you think?