Did I Just Hear That!?

The time is now 3:38am. I am watching Stealing Harvard on TV, even though I own it, because I am finally finishing up a very agonizing work project when a commercial comes on. This is what I hear...

"We're the Death Professors. And the first thing we'll do is give you a free total death evaluation. We'll tell you the truth and explain what we can do for you, absolutely free."

Because it's nearing 4am and I have TiVo I went back to make sure I heard what I thought I heard. Turns out they are the DEBT Professors. Quite a let down.

Now back to the movie...
Duff: I wanna change. I wanna be Steve.
John: I'm Steve; You're Karl.
Duff: Kyle!

All I Want For Christmas Is A Blowtorch

And I got one! Thank you Maggie. I of course recieved a fire extinguisher as well; safety first you know. No, I am not a welder but I have always wanted to try and make crème brûlée and you can't do that without a torch. How else would you burn the sugar on top creating that wonderful caramel crust on top? How? I also recieved a Belgian waffle maker that makes wonderfully delicious waffles, cake pans, toys, canned goods. It was a glorious day.

Eggnog, who knew? I had my first taste of real eggnog on Christmas day. It was made fresh, included three different kinds of alcohol, and was oh so yummy. Though I still refuse to put that store-bought swill in my mouth.

We spent Boxing Day Eve laughing hysterically at random Chuck Norris facts. If you have never heard one here are some gems:
- When the Boogeyman goes to sleep every night, he checks his closet for Chuck Norris.
- Chuck Norris doesn't read books. He stares them down until he gets the information he wants.
- There are no disabled people. Only people who have met Chuck Norris.
- Chuck Norris helped Jesus through the hard times, giving him strength by quoting the Scripture. (Norris had somehow gotten his hands on an advance copy of the New Testament, but couldn't bring himself to tell Jesus how it all ended.)


I hope everyone out there had a Merry Christmas!

A Delayed Reaction

I don’t even know what to say anymore. I made the mistake of reading Kara’s blog post about her revelation that she is angry with me. Well, while I understand her anger with me I am angry with her too. Not because of anything that happened during the trip but that she is airing all her anger at me on the Internet for everyone to bash me after only hearing her side of the story. I do not want to make a bigger deal of this so I am going to make my side short.

I have a relatively small family that I am very close with. The morning we left for our trip my dad came over and told me that my uncle, his only sibling and last remaining member of his immediate family had died. We were devastated. We are still devastated. But he told me to go on the trip, so I went.

In trying to keep myself pulled together and not let my grief take over I held it all in. This made me feel sick pretty much the entire time we were there. That coupled with Ramadan and the lack of available food, made me very weak. Yes, being in a third world country by yourself is terrifying; and I 100% understand Kara’s anger. But I felt uneasy and unsafe at times when there were two of us; namely in Fez. And that is what was the final straw that made me leave. I was shaking and my heart was racing. I was having, what I now know as an anxiety attack. And it wasn’t the first one I had on that trip. I was scared.

There were a number of factors that I am not going to get into because I don’t need to explain them to anyone. What it comes down to is that I left because I was devastated by the loss of my uncle and I needed to be with people that understood that and would allow me to grieve, not because I thought they needed me.

I have apologized for leaving. There isn’t any more that I can do. Kara is pissed, and she has every right. But is the anger because I left? Or, is the anger because the trip didn’t turn out like she though it would?

Life happens, no one knows how they are going to react to loss until it slaps them in the face. The loss has changed me. I am not the same person I was when we planned our trip. I am not asking for an apology, just some understanding.

The Shins

Getting in for free rocks! I have never felt like such a rock star in my life.

James you are my hero!

I know the picture looks blurry but I took it with my camera phone 10 feet away from the stage so in my mind it is the best picture in the world. THE WORLD!

Shopping Cart Confessional

Okay! I admit it! It’s not snowing anymore… at least not outside. It’s still snowing in Amyville, which is the world that I live in that does not involve reality. It’s a lot like Whoville without the crazy hairdos.

In Amyville no one works, it snows at Christmas, and Bing Crosby comes to my house to sing ‘Count Your Blessings’ when I can’t fall asleep. And if you don’t know that song than you are not welcome in Amyville… we reserve the right to kick anyone out that we see fit.

Since I have not written a true post in a while I will be providing you with some highlights…

Maggie’s Birthday – Mom and I went with Maggie, Rich, and the kids up to Seattle for a long weekend. We went to Pike Street Market where Maggie and Rich had found the world’s best donuts. I’m not kidding. It’s a tiny little stall with a donut machine that fries them right in front of you… I recommend the chocolate frosted ones with sprinkles. Damn they are good. We also we to the original Starbucks, one of the restaurant’s from Sleepless in Seattle, visited the Fremont Troll, took a ride on the carousel on the pier, and of course went to IKEA to do some shopping. It was quite the trip.

Thanksgiving – Delicious turkey but bad pumpkin pie. I make the pies and cinnamon rolls every year; this year I decided to try organic pumpkin mix for the pies. Don’t ever do that! It was bland and tasted burnt. Now it’s Libby’s or nothing at all.

My Christmas Tree – I love finding a Christmas tree. We get all bundled up in scarves and coats, throw on our mud boots and off we go. We’ve been going to the Loch Lolly tree farm for over five years now but they let us down this year. I have so freaking many ornaments that a Grand Fir no longer makes the grade. So we went to the tree farm in search of Noble Firs. All they had were these short bushy things that barely qualified for trees so we left. Next up was the Pumpkin Ridge tree farm… don’t go there. The sign doesn’t tell you but it’s eight miles from the turn off and half way there the road turns to gravel. It would be worth it if they had anything taller than four feet or anything shorter than 400 feet. If you don’t believe me take a drive and see for yourself.

So I made a call to Sarah who pointed me toward the most excellent tree farm called Hagg’s (pronounced Hay-g). They had so many perfect Nobles. I kept getting denied the ones I wanted because they were nearly 12 feet tall… stupid ceiling. The damn thing gets in the way every time I pick out my tree. So I settled for my dancing tree. That won’t make sense until I post a picture of my tree later and you can see that it indeed looks like it is dancing. And why wouldn’t it want to dance? It’s covered in 1,150 lights, two boxes of tinsel, over 75 ornaments, and a flashing star tree topper from the 60’s. It’s beautiful.

I love decorating my tree but 1,150 lights are more than I was prepared for. It took three trips to target before I got enough. That’s a lot of Target.

Dresses – Oh how I love being a lady. Sarah and I went shopping for party dresses for her parent’s Christmas party coming up. We brought 15 dresses into the dressing room and I came out with two of the most wonderful dresses in the world. You would think that this would be the point where I would show you pictures of them but you would be wrong. They will be debuted at the party and no sooner. So you’ll have to wait until photos from the party are posted. I know, the suspense is just killing the guys out there.

Gingerbread Houses – What do you get when you combine two gingerbread houses, three children, and six adults? You get one traditional gingerbread house and one not so traditional gingerbread house. If your curious Sarah has provided an excellent retelling with a photo. Sarah's Blog

Cookies – Martha is insane. Don’t get me wrong, I love Martha Stewart but she’s nuts. There is no way she actually spends hours decorating cookies for her tree or to give as gifts. It takes way too long. Last night Maggie, Sarah, Emily, and Haley came over to participate in some quality cookie decorating. I was fully prepared with over half a dozen different kinds of sprinkles and toppings and eight different colors of home-made icing. We were doing great until the icing bags started to explode and we realized we made way too many cookies.

What Martha doesn’t tell you is that you completely run out of ideas on how to decorate the cookies. There are only so many ways to decorate a tree or a bell. And once you stop to think about how to decorate it for a minute the frosting tip crusts over and you have to pick it off and wipe it down. If there weren’t four of us using the frostings simultaneously those frostings would have been hard as a rock. I don’t buy her claim of decorating cookies for her tree for one minute. That would be a HUGE time waste.

The Shins – I really have nothing to say here except that Sarah, Ashley, and I are going to their concert tonight and I’m totally excited. More on that later.

I hope this satisfies those that have been guilting me because of my lack of posting. It’s the holidays… give a girl a break.

It's Snowing!!!!

No, this isn't a view from my house. I wish it was, but no such luck. Currently there is 1/2 an inch of snow on the ground in places, it is misting snow, and the sun just came out.

Damn Oregon weather just can't seem to pull it together and give us a blizzard. Is that really too much to ask? One giant snowstorm to end all snowstorms. I'm ready for it, I've got snowtires and a stocked pantry.

Come on Mother Nature... let's see what you got!

I'm not sure taunting Mother Nature is the wisest move I've made in a while but I want snow damn it!

Attention Natty! Cleanup on aisle two...

I'm living in a Dilbert cartoon.

I had a meeting today scheduled for 11:30am. I walked over to my co-worker Pen's desk at 5 'til...
Me: "Is Natty coming in for our meeting?"
Pen: "No idea. She was online a little while ago, so I doubt it."
Me: "Unbelievable."
Pen: "I'm going to call her right now and then conference you in."
Me: "Sounds good."

No more than 10 seconds after sitting down I hear Natty's air-raid-style cell phone ringer coming from down the hall and growing louder by the second. She's heeeeere. The time is now 11:38... eight minutes after our meeting was to start.

Natty: "Pen were you just calling me?"
Pen: "Yes. I was calling you for our 11:30."
Natty: "Ok, well let's try and get a room. But I'll be a few minutes, I need to take a bio break."

For those not living in my neighborhood of hell, bio break means "I have to go to the bathroom." No joke.

Penn and I go off to find a room and sit there twiddling our thumbs for a good five minutes until Natty shows up.

Natty: "I'm going to be a few more minutes. I just spilled coffee all over the floor. Pen can you come and help me, I can't get enough paper towels out because they are on the sensor-things."

Our meeting finally started at 11:50 and lasted all of 25 minutes. After Natty left for home un-announced an hour later I went to chat with Pen. Turns out she was on her hands and knees cleaning up Natty's spilled coffee while Natty went for more paper towels.

Like I said, a Dilbert cartoon.

Christmas Cards for the ACLU

I was just rereading funny emails my dad sends to me and I came across this one that I must share with you. Now there's more to it than just the email so just keep reading.

"Wanna have some fun this CHRISTMAS? Send the ACLU a CHRISTMAS CARD this year.

As they are working so very hard to get rid of the CHRISTMAS part of this holiday, we should all send them a nice, CHRISTIAN, card to brighten up their dark, sad, little world. Make sure it says "Merry Christmas" on it.

Here's the Address, just don't be rude or crude. (It's Not the Christian Way, you know!)

ACLU
125 Broad Street
18th Floor
New York, NY 10004

Two tons of Christmas cards would freeze their operations because they wouldn't know if any were regular mail containing contributions. So spend 39 cents and tell the ACLU to leave Christmas alone. Also tell them that there is no such thing as a "Holiday Tree". . . . It's a Christmas Tree even in the fields!!"

Now I know it sounds funny. And I thought so too... at first. As I like to do when I read or hear something like this I like to see if there is another side to the story. And of course there always is. So I went to www.aclu.org to see what I could dig up and I found an old article from 2005 entitled "How The ACLU Didn't Steal Christmas" by Fran Quigley. Now don't go rushing to conclusions... Fran is a dude. No joke. Go to the website and check out his photo.

Here are some experts:
"We get this type of correspondence a lot, mostly in reaction to a well-organized attempt by extremist groups to demonize the ACLU, crush religious diversity, and make a few bucks in the process. Sadly, this self-interested effort is being promoted in the guise of defending Christmas.

"Of course, there is no "Merry Christmas" lawsuit, nor is there any ACLU litigation about [removing 'In God We Trust from] U.S. currency, military chaplains, etc. But the facts are not important to these groups, because their real message is this: By protecting the freedom of Muslims, Jews, and other non-Christians through preventing government entanglement with religion, the ACLU is somehow infringing on the rights of those with majority religious beliefs."

"Nowhere in the Sermon on the Mount did Jesus Christ ask that we celebrate His birth with narrow-mindedness and intolerance, especially for those who are already marginalized and persecuted."

"To our 'Merry Christmas' correspondents and all other Hoosiers, we wish you happy holidays."

The article talks about how "website Christians" ask for donations to help out their cause, how the ACLU is just trying to protect our Constitutional Rights, etc. My inclination is not to side with either. And instead of wasting my $0.39 on wishing either of them a Merry Christmas I came across a website that encourages sending soldiers who may not be getting a lot of mail a Christmas card. I know some of you may think it cheesy but think of how you feel when you are away from home at Christmas and then you might reconsider.

Okay I've had my fun. For anyone like me who doesn't know anyone close to them in the war check out the site: http://anysoldier.com/. It has everything there you would ever need to know.

It's Just Too Good

Everyone needs to share in the fun I found today. I was doing a search for houses on the market today and found this gem: http://www.realestateshows.com/show.php?mls=basic&id=97449 . I sent it over to Sarah to see if she could spot the anomalies. Of course she didn't let me down.

Here for your enjoyment are her observations:
"Well, the entire ad is freakin' hilarious. View of moss covered roof? Oh, that's a seller. Commercial lot? Right next to Plaid Pantry I pray. Back yard for parking? Sweet house party! I especially like the decor. Who wouldn't want a couch in the middle of the doorway? That's it, I'm moving my furniture into that little beauty today!"

This is one of the many reasons we are friends.

Cribbage, Asses, and Natty

Last night I spent my evening at my dad's house playing cribbage and talking with him and my cousin Matt. An excellent way to spend Halloween. We had some delicious beef stew with cornbread, ate the candy and played with the Play Doh I had bought for the trick-or-treaters, and spent hours playing the most glorious game known to man.

Cribbage, I have been told, is a Shearer family game. My family would play it to see who made dinner, who did the dishes, who made the Hot Toddies (so good), you name it and it was settled by a game of cribbage. Dad said he grew up watching his parents and grandparents play the game and by the age of five he was playing it with them. So if you do you math he has quite a few years on me. Which is why I feel victorious when I don't get creamed.

After dad killed both Matt and I we attempted to get music from his computer onto my iPod. Sounds easy enough but my iPod is formatted for Mac and he has a PC so it was an ordeal. We figured it out but good grief.

While that was going on Matt remembered he had a CD of May family photos for me. May is my dad's mom's side of the family and I have been appointed the keeper of the archives so they were passed to me. The pictures are incredible. It's amazing to see my grandparents acting like nuts and messing around with their friends when they were near my age. It's an interesting moment when you are able to see your grandparents and parents as individuals. My favorite was seeing grandma and her best friends; they couldn't have been any funnier. If your lucky enough I'll post a few sometime.

Until that day comes I would like to share a photo with you I just took from my phone. This is what I've had to look at for the last 2 1/2 hours:


This ass-in-the-sky has been up there all afternoon messing with some wires, talking on his cell phone from inside the ceiling, and calling his buddy on the other end Mr. Pink.

Your not cool Ass. Just deal with it and get out of my face.

During this ass-capade Natty decided to grace me with her presence. She showed up at 2:15pm, went to a meeting, and left at 3:05pm. All without saying a single word to me. Twenty minutes later she called me on my cell phone, even though she knew I was at my desk, to ask me if Penn (who is sick and went to a doctor's appointment) would be "online" after she was done at the doctor's office. Does she not understand what it means to go home sick? So Natty asks, "Can you go ahead and transfer me to her cell phone, I don't have it programmed?" No, I can't transfer you! It's a damn cell phone you moron!

I hate her.

Pumpkin Ball 2006

I know you would expect this post to be Morocco Part 2 but I am waiting for pictures before posting a complete recap of those events. In the mean time enjoy…

My annual Halloween party took place on Saturday night and even though I started preparing for it in September I just wasn’t ready for it. The house was decorated, my costume was ready, the food and mass quantities of alcohol were there but my mind wasn’t. My uncle’s memorial service was that Saturday morning and I was still feeling the effects that night. I have to say I am sick and tired of saying goodbye to family members, especially those that are way too young. Doug was almost a month shy of 56. 56 is way too young. His firemen brothers gave him an incredible service and we got the chance to see family that we had lost touch with but I’d rather have Doug back than family that I’d never met before. It just plain sucks.

So the party got going around nine and was busting at the seams by ten. I can’t believe the costumes that people came up with. Some were clever, others pretty, there were of course the requisite lame costumes but then there were the hilarious. Among my favorites were:
“Wizard as a Muggle” – The home-made wand and staff were spectacular.
“Moses” – I always wanted to see Moses gettin’ down.
“Pirate Wench” – Who doesn’t love seeing their mother dressed as a wench?
“Jack” (of Jack-in-the-Box) – A life-sized Jack head… priceless.
“Alex de Large” (A Clockwork Orange) – The detail was impressive.
“Elephant Hat Pirate” - Just plain funny.

In all I have to say that the men made a better showing than the ladies this year. I’m already thinking of my costume for next year. How does white-jumpsuit Elvis sound?

Around 11pm or something (I completely lost track of the time by that point) there were people there that I didn’t even know and others began to head home or to other parties. By midnight the party had turned. I have no idea quite what happened but before I knew it there was drunken dancing, spilled drinks, broken glass (candle holder and jalapeño jar), underage drunkenness, some random dude passed out with his head IN the toilet bowl, a near brawl over a drunk person’s car keys, and my mother kicking people out. Even as I type this I can see the humor in it all. No, I am not going to name names; that’s not how I roll. But I do have to say a special thank you to those that stayed after to help me deal with the afore mentioned instances and helped me to clean up (both that night and the next day). I truly appreciate all of your help.

The next day I spent about six hours cleaning and putting my living room back together. It was exhausting and completely satisfying. Monday I went back to work and as I feared it has only gotten worse around here.

Anyway, I want to thank both Devon and Kara for sending me the pictures they took from the party. So far those are the only ones I have seen and they are great. If anyone else has pictures from the party please send them my way; once I have them compiled I’ll post a link to them here so all can enjoy.

Thanks again to everyone who made the party such a success. See you next year!

Morocco - Part 1

We finally made it to Morocco after 26 hours of traveling. Due to keyboard issues I am going to keep this short. We will be in Marrakech until Wednesday when we leave for our two day trip to the desert. We joined the "Imagine le voyage Sahara Expedition" tour which will take two days to get there while stops along the way, includes a camel ride into the dunes (weeeeee!) and then a day traveling to get back.

So far neither Kara or I have been poisoned by the water or food but my stomach is not liking me very much since I left. Part is nerves but I think most is just that I'm sad about my uncle.

Anyway, I'm going to let Kara take over and blog. I'll be back to post more when we get back from the desert and I'm feeling better.

I love and miss you all!

Two Days!

I leave for Morocco in just two days. I'm excited and scared but I'm trying to focus more on the excited part. I'm mostly scared about not being able to speak Arabic. And if you could hear me practicing you would be scared too. Every language guide, dictionary, and book I've been able to get my hands on all say the same thing after explaining how to pronounce an Arabic letter... ask a Moroccan to show you. Now that's helpful.

Anyway, I'll be updating this blog as a way to communicate with everyone at the same time so check back often as I do not know how often we will be able to get to an Internet cafe.

Wish me luck!

Because I Promised

This is for Kendra...

This just in… Natty News

Just when you think it can’t get any worse… it does. Not only did Natty’s head survive the chopping block at work when everyone else fell victim, it grew.

In her latest escapade she’s decided she’s too good to come into the office. She just called us (yeah, we’re in the office and she’s at home) to let us know that we need to be in NW Portland at 3:30pm (2 ½ hours from now) for our team meeting. She wants to do it face-to-face so two of us (who live on the Westside where the office is) have to meet her in NW (where she lives). Ahhhhhh!

But before you think it’s all bad she said, “as a treat you can have the afternoon off when the meeting is over.” Gee really! Thanks!

Here’s the flaw in her “treat”… by the time the hour long meeting is over we have to drive back in rush-hour traffic. So I get a ½ hour off work and I have to spend it wasting my gas and sitting in traffic to drive to my house that is about five minutes from the office.

I am so pissed right now I could piss.

Sound Bites

News Flash: Elton John teaming up with Bath & Body Works to launch his own line of candles and home fragrance products for the store, dubbed the Fireside Collection. Proceeds will benefit the Elton John AIDS Foundation. Let me be the first to say, "Ewwwwwwww!"

Studio 60 on the Sunset Strip: If you're not watching it then something is wrong with you. It is my new favorite show, and not just because is has Matthew Perry but because it is smart. There are not enough smart shows on TV.

Days until Morocco: 5

Days until the 3rd Annual Pumpkin Ball: 25

Days until I break from the stress of planning, packing, and preparing: 1

F*cking Bees

I had a wonderful weekend. There was the time-share presentation that ended in free trips, a house-warming party in Seattle complete with an impromptu dance party at 1am, yummy brunch the next morning, costume shopping, and an IKEA trip. And all I can think of is how much I HATE bees.

Why all the hatred? Well this morning I was attacked by two yellow-jackets. ATTACKED.

I actually got up early this morning to go to the gym before work. I was walking out to the car when I felt a stabbing pain by my knee. I thought it was just a spasm but I looked down and saw a giant bee on my knee. I swatted it away and started to walk toward the car when I realized how much it was hurting. I turned back to the house just as my mom was leaving for work. I was holding my knee and whimpering from the pain when she asked me what was wrong. Just as she finished asking another bee swooped in and bit my head. MY HEAD!

She swatted it away and we both ran for the door, fumbling with my keys I finally unlock th house and got inside. Too bad that wasn't safe either because the f*cking bee followed us inside. My brother was tasked to killing the bee while I holed up in the bathroom bawling my eyes out with pain. After the death of the bee we moved into the kitchen to hose of my head (cold water always helps), only to find the second bee was hiding out in the hood of my jacket. I renewed my screaming/crying and ran back to the bathroom stripping myself down to my workout top and pants on the way.

We think the second bee is dead but haven't found his carcass yet so I refuse to enter the kitchen until that happens. The upside to this mess is that I don't have to go to work. The downside is all the damn pain. My head feels like someone is driving a needle into it. And for those that know me, you understand how bad that is (I have a very low pain threshold and an irrational fear of needles).

I'm going to go curl up into a ball now and cry.

Jamaica Mon'!

Ever wonder what it must feel like to win a free trip to Jamaica?

It feels incredible! That’s right, I won a free trip to Jamaica! It seems that my “race for the freebies” ended in a free trip. For those wondering “what the hell!?”, I shall explain.

Last night I was minding my own business decorating for Halloween when I got a phone call. I didn’t recognize the long-distance number but I have family out of town so I answered it. The conversation went like this:

“Hello.”
“Hi, I’m looking for Amy.”
“This is her.”
“Hi, Amy. I’m calling from Coordinated Services.”
“Uh-huh.”
“You entered into a drawing at the Race for the Cure.”
“Oh! Yeah, I did.”
“Your name has been chosen and you have won a prize.”
“Great!”
“Now, I don’t know what your prize is but I have a number for you to call. They will tell you what you have won.”
“Okay.”
“They are waiting for your call, so call very soon.”

I am shocked. I NEVER win anything, so I am assuming it to be the drawing for the $50 Burgerville drawing that I entered into. ‘Cause while it’s not much it’s still free stuff.

My friend Sarah arrived to help me decorate and I of course filled her in. So, together with Sarah, Chad (my brother), and Shannon (another friend) we waited in excited anticipation while I dialed the number.

“Hello.”
“Hi, this is Amy I’m calling for extension 355.”
“One moment… that operator is busy right now. Can I have their assistant call you back.”
“Sure.”

Now I’m thinking it’s a scam. What kind of operation is this? Ten minutes later they call back.

“Hello.”
“Hi, is this Amy?”
“This is.”
“Hi, Amy. You entered into a drawing for Fred Meyer at the Race for the Cure.”
“Yes, I did.” (Though I can’t remember what the prize was. But even some free groceries would be great.)
“Now we aren’t doing that drawing until December 30th, which you are still entered in to win, but we do secondary drawings up until then and you have won.” (Okay, maybe a $50 gift certificate… still good. I wish I could remeber what the Fred Meyer prize is.)
“Okay.”
“You have won a trip for two…” (Holy crap I won a trip!)
“… three days, two nights…” (Sweet, maybe I’ll go to the coast.)
“… including round-trip airfare…” (I get to fly!?)
“… to your choice of Las Vegas, Jamaica…” (At this point I stopped listening. I get to go to Jamaica!!!)
“Can you repeat that for me?”
“Sure. You have won a trip for two that includes three days, two nights, including round-trip airfare to your choice of Las Vegas, Jamaica, Cancun, or Orlando. Congratulations.”
“Thanks!”

I can’t freaking believe I won. I never win anything. So the guy goes on to tell me that when I go to the reception to pick up my winnings I will receive an additional gift for listening to a presentation from the sponsor of the trip. The free gift is a champagne cruise on the Willamette… not too shabby.

It still sounded a bit like a time-share scam so I asked the guy, and he assured me that I will not be asked to sign-up for anything, sign any contract, or purchase anything. The company is (shameless plug) ‘Vacations International’ out of Vancouver, WA and relies on word-of-mouth for their advertising.

This is the point where I hung up the phone and I began screaming and dancing around the living room screaming. “I’m going to Jamaica! I’m going to Jamaica!”

I of course am taking my friend Sarah because I lover her so very much and because her grandmother is the reason I do the Race for the Cure.

Jamaica Mon’!

Ditching and Belching

Both ditching and belching are two things that I would rather not encounter at work. Mainly because belching is gross and no one likes to be ditched.

Yesterday afternoon I looked up from my instant messaging to realize that I had been ditched by my coworkers. They all left early and didn't tell me. Now, I could really give a crap about them leaving early but I felt like such a schmuck sitting there "working" when everyone had left. I like to do the ditching damnit! It's no fun to sneak out of work early when everyone else has already done it. I felt like a lemming.

And belching. Ewww.

I started my day early with a workout at the gym. I like starting my day this way, you feel you'e accomplished something before you even get to work; though I hate the waking up part. Anyway, I'm sitting at my desk and it blissfully quiet (10:15 and no one is here) and out of no where I hear a belch. Not a burp, a belch. I can understand a burp, sometimes they just happen. But a belch takes force. A belch is on purpose. Which is why it's disgusting. And had the guy no said a delayed "excuse me" I would have had to punch his face in.

P.S. Only 42 days to Halloween and the decorations are already going up. Such a fantastic holiday.

___ for the Cure

The Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure was yesterday, and for the third year in a row I participated; though I am beginning to wonder if that is really helping. There are too many people (men and women) that are being affected each year. Shouldn’t that number be decreasing slightly with all of the money being raised to help find the cure?

More and more I wonder just how many people come for the free stuff and don’t actually donate any money to the cause. I can see how you could be tempted… who can resist a pair of too large pink underwear, a pink lunch sack, pink Sun Chips, pink mirrors, pink scarves, pink, pink, pink. Don’t get me wrong, I grabbed all I could. But I also paid to be there.

Last year it was chaotic but the race went fairly smooth. This year, it took 35 minutes just to get across the start line. There were people pouring in from all sides of the start line trying to get into the race. When you have a year to plan a race (that takes place every year) the biggest issue should not be how to get people started, it should be how to get more people to come. Once it gets going the race is fine, slow but that’s fine because that gives you time to find the team that you lose every time to turn around.

One of my favorite parts of race day however, are the different teams. To name a few there were the “Happy Hoofers for Healthy Hooters”, “Walkers for Knockers”, “Hoola Hooters” (with coconuts as o’s), “Team Tatas”, and my team “I Feel a Song Coming On...”. Yes, I know there is no reference to boobs, hooters, breast, knockers, tatas, melons, or tits in the name but we made up for that with our wonderful accessories that included sparkling pink foam cowboy hats and pink boas. We were awesome!

Equally hilarious was how some chose to “race”. There were people “running for the cure”, “rowing for the cure”, “walking for the cure”, “sleeping-in for the cure”, “complaining for the cure”, “crying for the cure”, “spilling hot coffee on Amy for the cure” (twice, I kid you not), “hoarding freebies for the cure”, “yelling at people for using the wrong garbage cans for the cure”. You name it, people were doing it. My personal favorite was my dear friend Kara’s method of “drinking for the cure”… priceless.

All in all is was another good race. I just hope to see more cure than racers next year

Natty News - The Guillotine

I know when most decent people complain about the people they work with and say things like, "they need to be fired" deep down they don't really mean it, they're just frustrated. Well I mean it. I'm to the point where I want to be the one to release the rope.

This week Pen and I:
1. Got yelled at for getting something RIGHT.
2. Had to hear from the new lady "Marge" that Natty told her that "this place would fall apart withot me".
3. Were forced to train Marge, who is supposed to be the new person in charge of analyst relations... only to have her ask me "What is an analyst firm?" and "What do analysts do?"
4. Overheard Pen telling her boss that she "hadn't seen" someone all day, implying that they haven't been at work; when the truth is that Pen has been at home and her coworker has been in the office all day.

Now you may think the whole guillotine thing may be a bit extreme until you relaize that I am only a face in a line of over a dozen people waiting in line to release the blade.

I know, I know. Why not just quit? I have a plan. And that plan is finally coming to fruition. I just got word from my boss that the new position that I've been working towards getting is finally going to happen. Adios Natty!

Ocotber has always been my favorite month but this year it is even more special. I get to tell Natty to kiss it, spend nearly three weeks in Morocco, party at the 2006 Pumpkin Ball, and start a new job.

October is glorious!

The Haircut

I know that most people say that a used car salesman ranks up on the pushiest sales person list but I think a hairstylist can give them a run for their money.

For all the women out there, when was the last time you went in to get a haircut and weren’t made to feel guilty about the number of spilt-ends you have, the quality of shampoo/conditioner you buy, how long it’s been since you last came in, and on, and on. It’s incredible.

A car salesman will try to get you to but something that you don’t really need or want but a hairstylist makes you feel self-conscious and guilty about your own hair, the thing that women love and care about so much.

Now I consider myself to be low maintenance in the hair department. I wash it, condition it, and brush it. That’s about the extent of my hair care. I keep it long and straight, no color, no curl, no hair products, just plain. It works for me. I have healthy hair, and as long as I keep the split-ends at bay I feel I have done a good job. Well apparently that’s not good enough.

Yesterday I went in for a routine trim. “Cut the dead ends off,” I said. Then the inquisition begins; What shampoo do you use?, Do you condition your hair?, Do you put it up a lot?, Do you use a straight iron? To which I respond: Biolage, Yes, No, Never. And then I get the response no woman wants to hear, “Huh?”

This is the word that strikes fear in all women. We never want to hear “huh” because what it really means is, “then why is it so bad?” This is something you never want someone to think about your hair. Never.

The “it” in my case is breakage. My hair breaks, it’s not very strong. Seriously, in a slight breeze my hair will break away and travel to parts unknown. I blame my parents. My mom has thick, strong, slightly wavy hair while my dad has thin, fine, shiny hair. All is fine there until you look at the children; my sister and I got my dad’s hair while our brothers got our mom’s hair. It’s not fair! They cut it short, it doesn’t even matter what their hair is like. Oh the injustice.

Anyway, after lecturing me for twenty minutes about how to take care of my own hair (which I already do, thank you very much) and trying to get me to purchase over $50 of unnecessary hair products I don’t need, I ran out of there as fast as my legs would carry me.

Why is a simple trim so much work?

A Mike Ferris Moment

Have you ever had one of those Mike Ferris moments? I had one of those today and it creeped me out. As it always does.

"Who the hell is Mike Ferris?" you ask. Well, Mike Ferris is an astronaut. No, not a real astronaut... but he played one on TV. More specifically, he played one in the pilot episode of The Twilight Zone. Which just happens to be my favorite episode.

Mike Ferris, played by Earl Holliman, finds himself on a deserted road with no one in sight. He has no idea who he is or where he is. He starts walking and stumbles upon a diner, he starts yelling in hopes of someone answering but no one does. He keeps walking a finds a small town, he checks the buildings but no one is around. He thinks he spots someone in a truck but it turns out to be a mannequin in front of a mannequin shop. The phone in the phone booth in the middle of the town square starts ringing; he runs to answer it but no one is there. He tries to contact the operator but it is only a recording.

He then searches the police station, wandering through the jail cells, and an ice cream parlor, where he sees a book called "The Last Man on Earth". Finally he visits the movie theatre that is playing a film reel about joining the Air Force, where he realizes he might me a pilot. After running out of the theater he trips over a bicycle, only to come face-to-face with a giant eye painted on the optometrist's shop window. At which point he cracks; running over to the crosswalk, he begin to repeatedly push the walk-button crying, “somebody help me, somebody's looking at me, help me, help me, help me.”

It’s then that you learn he is being watched. Several military officers are sitting in a room viewing the man in a small isolation chamber repeatedly pushing a panic button. The man had been in the chamber for 484 hours as a part of a secret Air Force operation meant to simulate the isolation felt on a solo trip to the moon.

There are moments in life I feel like Mike Ferris. Driving down the street when no one is around; no cars, no people, no sign of life. In that split second before a car drives by or a dog barks I wonder, “Is everyone gone?” And I get a bit panicky.

For those of you thinking “what a wuss”, you have no idea. You are both right and a punk.

Today I had a variation of a Ferris moment. I pulled into the parking lot at work, parked my scooter, and began to pull of my helmet when I thought I heard music. At first I thought it was my cell phone, but when I took my helmet off I realized it wasn’t my cell phone… it was a bagpipe.

I quickly spin around to see what the hell is going on. There is an honest to god bagpipe being played in the parking lot; only I can’t see it. No matter how hard I look I can’t find it. Not only that, I seem to be the only one who can hear it. There was easily 20 people scattered around the parking lot, and another 20 or so walking in different groups up and down the side walk… none of them seemed to hear it. No heads were turning and no one was asking, “What is that?”.

Now I hear things sometimes that I question are there but I swear to god this was real. Someone was having bagpipe practice on their lunch break in the parking lot.

As I walked the path to the building I could still hear it… mocking me in all of its Highland glory. I kept stealing glances around to try to find it but my efforts were in vain. I am concerned for my mental health.

Where’s the panic button!?

Labor Day

I do enjoy that in the U.S. we celebrate a holiday honoring laborers that started in Canada and had loose affiliations with the Ku Klux Klan by not working. Only in America.

I spent my weekend editing home videos of my travels over the past year, wishing I was back in said locations, and lounging in the pool. For you lucky people that have never edited home movies I have one piece of advice for you, don't do it. Con someone else into doing them for you.

It took me over five hours to edit together a video of my four-day Las Vegas trip. Five hours! The movie ended up being 20 minutes long. Five hours for 20 minutes. My only saving grace is that iMovie is truely idiot proof; and I haven't broken it yet so I'm pretty happy about that. I am not looking forward to editing together the video of the 10-day cruise I went on last year, or my upcoming 2 1/2 week trip to Morocco. I will edit myself into insanity... although I am hoping that some of that footage will include a camel, nee dromedary, spitting on my dear friend Kara.

I can see it now... and it's glorious.

Pass the Buck

Meaning – to pass responsibility on to someone else.

Origin – buck is an article used in a game of poker, and that's the buck that's passed. This was often a knife, and knives often had handles made of buck's horn - hence the marker becoming known as a buck. When the dealer's turn was done he 'passed the buck'.
Silver dollars were later used as markers and this is probably the origin of the use of buck as a slang term for dollar.

While Harry S. Truman may have made the phrase 'the buck stops here' famous I think he may be the last person on the planet to practice it.

Case in point, when you have been back from vacation for three months you should no longer say things like “things kind of fell apart while I was gone” as the excuse for current issues. It’s been three months, if your absence made the place fall apart shouldn’t you have fixed any problems in the three months since your return? The answer is yes.

So stop blaming everyone else! You know who you are. The truth is, the problems that are coming up now were problems you had then. The only difference is that the person you used to blame quit because she was sick of you taking credit for her accomplishments and blaming her for your mistakes.

Karma is catching up to you and it’s pissed!

*******

On a completely unrelated note, while waiting for the blogger system to come back online yesterday so I could post entry I decide to run to the cafeteria for a sandwich.

I am waiting in the sandwich line in the cafeteria for my glorious chicken-hummus-feta on pita sandwich to finish grilling when the grown man next to me actually asks the woman making his tuna fish sandwich, “Can you cut that into fourths?”

To which she replies, “Of course. It’s just like being back with my little kids in the kitchen.” The woman is old enough to be this man’s mother.

At this point I steal a glance at the man next to me who is boring a whole through the cutting bored with his eyes while trying not to look at the four guys behind him in line; who, like me, are no doubt silently mocking him.

Natty Alert

Why me? I work hard. I do my job well. Hell, I did my job so well when I first started that they fired the woman I was hired to help because I could do it better than she could. Does this garner any respect from Natty? Hell no. I am still being treated like a damn secretary.

My morning began with an email sent to someone else and copied to me that said, “I’ve copied Amy who has access to my schedule and can work out a time with both of you.” First of all, I do not have access to your calendar. And second, do it your damn self! In the time it took to right the email she could have told them when she was available.

So I am in the process of emailing Natty to point out that I do not in fact have access to her schedule when I get an email from the person she needs the meeting with suggesting some new times. In the time it takes me to read the damn email Natty has already responded with, “That time works, that was easy!” Aaaahhhhhhhhhh!

What was the point in even involving me? It’s not like I didn’t have work I was supposed to be doing. People wonder why it takes so long to get something done. I think the answer is pretty clear on this one.

The Emmy's

Conan was magnificent as usual. If you missed his version of The Music Man’s “Trouble” number I feel sorry for you. So sorry I will try and sing a little bit for you…

Trouble, oh we got trouble,
Right here at NBC!
With a capital "T"
That rhymes with "G"
And that stands for ‘Gee, we’re screwed’,
We've surely got trouble!
Right here at NBC!

It was magical. Other Conan gems include the instigation of certain rules regarding speeches, “You are not allowed to say ‘this is heavy’ when handed your award. Of course it’s heavy! It holds the shattered dreams of three other people.” And consequences if the show runs over, “I have place beloved actor Bob Newhart in an airless chamber with exactly three hours worth of oxygen. If the show runs even one second over the three hours, Bob Newhart will die.” I’m not sure whether it was the repeated cuts to Newhart in the chamber with the countdown clock or the desire to get to the parties but the show miraculously came in at three minutes under schedule. Bob lives!

Winners and Losers
After losing the Emmy to Barry Manilow (no joke) for Individual Performance in a Variety or Music Program, Stephen Colbert let the Academy have it, "Kneel before your god, Babylon!... Barry Manilow! I lost to the 'Copacabana.' Singing and dancing is not performing." Robbed!

Upon reaching the stage to receive her Emmy for Actress in a Miniseries or Movie, Helen Mirren proclaimed she was glad she didn’t go "ass over tit" while trying to reach the stage. Priceless.

Here’s a rundown of the only categories I paid attention to:
Drama Series – 24 (though it should have gone to last year’s winner Lost who wasn’t even nominated… idiots!)
Comedy Series – The Office (should have been Arrested Development)
Variety, Musical or Comedy Series – The Daily Show (Stephen Colbert was ROBBED!)
Actor/Actress – Nobody I really cared about was nominated in comedy or drama, lead or supporting so I tuned them out.

In related news…
“The manager of the Lexington, Kentucky NBC affiliate stating he was ‘horrified’ by Conan O'Brien's opening monologue sketch, which included a plane crash scene in homage to Lost and aired only hours after 49 people were killed in a real place crash in Kentucky.”

Seriously? Hell, the networks better stop all medical, police, and crime related shows because god forbid TV reflect reality in any way. My question is, Do you think the Lexington man would have laughed had the crash happened in Wyoming instead of his state? Would he have even thought twice about it?

White Trash Bash

That’s no typo. It’s one of the greatest parties you will ever attend. Just think, you show up looking like you rolled out of a trailer park and the drunker and filthier that you become as the night progresses the better you look. Could you really ask for anything more?

At this kind party your look is critical. After a rousing Goodwill shopping trip to prepare for Saturday’s party I went with a ringer shirt (stained of course) that featured a cowboy hat-wearing bear strumming a guitar over the words “Love That Country Music”, a fake jean skirt that was trimmed with faux leather and zipped all the way up the front, and shiny gold strapped sandals with pink socks. Oh, I was a sight to be seen. This was coupled with makeup applied with the assistance of two very eager 4 and 5 year olds and a lot of hairspray and ratting.

While I felt I looked truly trashy Sarah was worse (and in this instance that was better). She brought back the high scrunched hair from the 80’s and paired it with bad makeup, a sleeveless shirt emblazoned with “ORYGUN”, very short shorts, nylons, and white pleather ankle boots. Man it was glorious!

There were all kinds of trash at this ball… “pregnant” smoking teenagers, barefoot and “pregnant” women in muumuus, men in very small tight shorts, socks and flip-flops, Disney characters on overalls, black bra straps galore, trucker hats, and of course the requisite “wife-beaters”.

There were Twinkies, Cheetos, Chickin-in-a-Biskit, Quick Cheese, Fritos, 40’s, and of course a keg. It wouldn’t be a party if there wasn’t a keg, funnel, and someone dumb enough to do a keg stand. Let me tell you, there were plenty of keg stands to go around.

Once the dancing had ended, the Twister game was destroyed, the lawn chairs were busted, the was keg emptied, shoes were located, and my skirt was broken (unzipped with no way of re-zipping it) as a result of being tackled to the ground, and the drunk people were driver home we called it a night.

And oh what a night it was.

Inciting A Riot

Babble. It is simply the greatest combination of Boggle and Scrabble (my favorite game) one can find on the internet. However, like everything else it has a darkside. In the case of Babble it is the babblers. The addicted players that logon everyday not only to play the game but to chat with other players and occasionally share clues. Normally I just ignore the chat but yesterday was different.

I was playing with my friend Sarah, and between the two of us we were doing really well. We were down to 12 words or so (out of 200) and I was stuck. So I asked for a clue from the babblers. What follows is the stuff of Babble legend. For I, in the course of a couple of posts incited a riot. A riot that I had to go at alone, for it was myself against the boring old biddies that flock to the site.

It all began at 9:03 pm (EST), a Babbler with the handle “stidmama” posts a novel… I kid you not it took up the entire chat log. Nearly an hour later she’s still at it, and I’m thoroughly annoyed. Her story is mind-numbingly boring and very poorly written. So I decide to take action.

I have abbreviated the chat log so you can clearly see what went on; because during all of this people were still trying to talk about the game being played… imagine that.

9:56 pm – stidmama
By this time, the torch had burned out, but the moons were up and the passageway was now silver tinged with deep blues and purples. We could see clearly and the mule, far from complaining, picked up the pace.

9:56 pm – stidmama
We drove on further, and the woman explained that her people had lived in the land to which we journeyed for longer than the pass had gone through the mountains. They had named the animals, the rocks, the plants and the stars.

9:56 pm – AmyLou (that’s me)
enough storytime, more cluetime... i need mi 6/24 not the disease related word

** stidmama is unfazed and continues to share her story. Which I must point out is already posted on her very own website **

9:57 pm – stidmama
I was fascinated by her tale, and so will the children be.

9:57 pm – Ping
more storytime!

** Is she serious!? **

9:57 pm – stidmama
We stopped again, as the sky turned from dark blue to aubergine.

9:58 pm – stidmama
Again, we dismounted. Again, she asked me to close my eyes.

9:58 pm – stidmama
I did so without hesitation. Perhaps I should have been more cautious.

** Enter jillibus an 80 year old Canadian hag. **

9:58 pm – jillibus
rude, amylou

10:00 pm – jillibus
there's penty of cluetime

10:00 pm – AmyLou
this is not for novel sharing, this is for game help

10:01 pm – lbdawger
Amy, take a chill, we're cluing as Stid tells us a story.

** Welcome to my shit list lbdawger. **

10:01 pm – jillibus
are you not noticing all the game help, amulou?

10:01 pm – stidmama
AmyLou, Many people on the log enjoy the story. If you do not, then ignore every post that comes up with my icon. I will be done with tonight's installment soon.

** stidmama has now been actively chatting on Babble for nearly 12 hours, with only a 3 ½ hour break. She has now posted nearly 70 “story” related posts. **

10:01 pm – AmyLou
email works for that

10:02 pm – Ping
with all 100 of us?

10:02 pm – LeslieAnn
sorry, amy, i'm afraid you're outnumbered

** Insanity! She already has the story posted online and the link in her bio. One sane person against over 100 crazies? How could I ever win? **

10:02 pm – illibus
you are VERY rude, amylou

** At this point I am shaking I am so pissed. Yet stidmama continues. **

10:02 pm – stidmama
Aema was watching me intently. "And?" she asked.

10:03 pm – spangles
Amylou stop being antagonistic you sound like a twelve year old child. Maybe its past your bedtime.

10:03 pm – AmyLou
shut up spangles

** spangles has now become public enemy number one. **

10:04 pm – elphaba
Did I miss something? Is it rude night tonight?

10:04 pm – stidmama
Again, she nodded and reached into her bag. She drew out a shirt, made of the same gossamer as her shawl. I carefully folded the blue shirt you had made me and placed it with the pants.

10:05 pm – jbp
AmyLou, there are lots of clues around. No need to pick fights. we all babble together

10:06 pm - jillibus
Hello elph - we're hoping the rudeness has got the message

** So subtle jillibus. And unless the message is that you are a bitch, no I haven’t gotten the message. **

10:07 pm – stidmama
We got back in the cart. The jenny took off at a trot. The sky was turning pink, and the walls of the mountains shone like bronze

10:08 pm – stidmama
I was no longer cold, and felt a strange sense of courage. I looked at her, and found she had braided her hair and put it up like a crown on her head.

10:08 pm – AmyLou
all i am trying to do is play the game, i just want a freaking clue and i have asked many times and no one responds.... all i asked for was the return of clues... you are the ones who attacked me, not the other way around

10:08 pm – jbp
amylou, what clue did you ask. one of us will help if we have it

10:09 pm – pam
and, amylou, it is a chatterbox, not a clue hotline

10:09 pm – pam
so if you need a clue and didn't get it, ask again

10:09 pm – pam
nicely

** Aaaahhh! Make it stop! Where the hell do these people come from?**

10:09 pm – LeslieAnn
amylou i do not have the word you're looking for. sorry.

10:09 pm – AmyLou
mi 6/24 no the disease related one

10:10 pm – jillibus
ois it the one about where you would be if you fell off a trapeze, amylou?

** What? **

10:10 pm – stidmama
Overhead, a flight of swallows joined in, weaving through the air as if dancing to the song.

10:10 pm – Ping
mi 6/24 - an acrobat flies through mi****

10:12 pm – balletslippers
mi 6 24 planes crash in mi****

** I now have the word I have been asking for help with for over an hour… midair. **

10:13 pm – stidmama
that's it for tonight, I think, tomorrow we'll pick up the final leg to the new land

** After over 80 story related posts she finally stops. Unbelievable. Even more unbelievable is the fact that she does this every night. EVERY NIGHT! **

10:13 pm – AmyLou
got the word, thanks ping and balletslippers

10:13 pm – balletslippers
no prob amylou

10:13 pm – Ping
yw amy

10:14 pm – jillibus
Amy, I clued you too

** How petty can one woman get? **

After all of that we finally finished the puzzle and I got my fireworks.

I still can’t believe it all happened. I need a new game. Any suggestions?

Survivor Segregation

For those that are sane enough not to follow the goings on over at CBS's Surivor here's some more fuel for the fire... Racial Segregation.

Turns out the upcoming season of Surivor will start out by pitting whites, blacks, Asians, and Hispanics against eachother. They are claiming this will be a "valuable social experiment". What would be more valuable is showing the middle America viewers that working as a successful team has nothing to do with race but the strength of its members.

Ugh! I hated the show before but now it's a whole new monster. The apparent reason behind this brain aneurism are complaints that Surivor is not ethincally diverse enough. These people make millions of dollars and this is the solution they came up with. Want to know what Mark Burnett, the show's creator had to say? Here you go: "But we're smart enough to not make it negative. We're smart enough to have gotten rid of every racist person in casting... Our original idea was simply to have the most ethnically diverse group of people on TV. It wasn't until we got to casting and started noticing this theme of ethnic pride that we started thinking, 'Wow, if culture is still playing such a big part in these people's lives, that's our idea. Let's divide them based on ethnicity.'" I can understand why, as an American, he would have a hard time understanding cultural pride.

Let's see what he says after the first food competition. I can hear the bleeps now.

Natty News

One may think doing your job well saves you from being berated by your boss. Well not where I work.

I am currently working at the offices of one of my company’s clients which puts me in the unfortunate position of having to deal with Her. Allow me to introduce you to “Natty” the manager from… well I have no idea where she comes from, normally one would say hell here but that seems to nice. She is around the age of 36, wears clothes too young for her, has thick dry hair down to her ass that looks like extensions, and frequently wears her sunglasses as a headband. She is a piece of work, which brings me to today’s...

Natty News
My co-sufferer out here just got lectured over the phone (because Natty is too good to come into the office) because she is doing her job too well. That’s right, too well. My co-sufferer, now to be known as Pen, is in charge of putting together marketing plans to present to clients in order to get permission to market a successful project.

Now Pen and I have both been here less than two years and this hasn’t been done very successfully since we’ve been here; it was previously Natty’s responsibility. Pen took over about two month’s ago and is doing fantastically well, so well in fact that permissions have nearly tripled. This results in a lecture from Natty. Why you ask? Because Natty doesn’t want anyone to get the impression that this wasn’t being done before. Yeah, she’s pissed that one of her workers is performing better than she did.

The truly unbelievable Natty News will be a regular occurrence until I can get the hell out of the Gray World that is my office.

Pocket Pies

The reasons behind the creation of this blog are two fold; 1. to rant without consequence and 2. so that I can stop hearing "you need to blog this shit" every time I message a friend about my day. Don't believe me? This is how I started my day:

Amy says:
Want to hear something funny?
Amy says:
I just got done at the dentist office and opened up my goody bag... inside I find a lime green toothbrush with the dentist's info, a mini thing of floss (berry mint - eww), a coupon for toothpaste, and a stick of wintergreen chapstick personalized with my dentist's information. Have I been away from the dentist that long? When did they start giving out chapstick!?
Kara says:
chapstick helps your teeth
Kara says:
i'm tired of this...i should NOT be the only one that gets these tasty tidbits of humor! you need to start a blog
Kara says:
even if each entry is just that short
Amy says:
The oddest part is that the damn toothpaste they cleaned my teeth with was strawberry but the chapstick was a mint flavor
Kara says:
some people put chapstick on their tongue
Amy says:
Only if you think of a fantastic name for the blog
Kara says:
no, i made that up
Kara says:
i didn't get home until 9 pm last night
Amy says:
your work blows
Kara says:
and there's your title
Kara says:
"Work Blows"
Amy says:
i made pocket pies last night that i am now eating for breakfast
Kara says:
of course you did...i'm getting you an apron that says "i'm fantastic"
Kara says:
i just have to find one
Amy says:
lol!
Amy says:
can you say shit in a blog?
Kara says:
of course you can
Kara says:
you can say whatever you want in a blog
Kara says:
you can say "i eat jewish babies" in a blog
Kara says:
though you might not want to
Amy says:
sweet! i may have to make that my sign off for each post. how do you think that will go over?
Kara says:
splendidly

So begins my blog.