May 13th

I have absolutely no idea what day of the week it is. That happened embarassingly fast.

I am starting my Spanish classes on Monday and I can't wait! Generally, they are 2 hours a day, four days a week. Give or take.

The family is starting to trickle over and say hi. Tonight is the first major gathering, I've been told I have to get drunk to be initiated into the family. If I haven't mentioned it, the last gathering I attended that contained most of Dr. J's family had somewhere close to 80 people. I have two cousins on each side. Que sera.

Bienvenidos a Colombia!

The moment I landed in Miami yesterday, I began operating on the sandtimer of Colombia. The plane was delayed about 3 hours due to a malfunctioning air conditioner. I highly doubt there's a Colombian alive who can even tell the difference between an air conditioned and a non-air conditioned plane ride, but I'm happy to endure any sort of delays created by the smallest mechanical malfunction. What if the necessary energy from the air conditioner were unavailable to rig up an emergency landing worthy of Apollo 13? Let's not chance it.

You definitely have to adapt to the pace of things here quickly or the idleness will make you nuts. It's as if the whole country is on a morphine drip. Two o'clock in the afternoon and I've bought shampoo, spoke to someone about starting a Spanish class on Monday, and I'm about ready for my nap. Actually, Juan's father and I are messing with computers and email - if only I were slightly more computer savvy, this would be easier.

A couple of fun tidbits from yesterday's travel. I only slightly blended in on the plane, I spoke enough Spanish that I didn't stick out horribly, I could generally answer the questions asked of me, my clothing is distinctly American - but no one looked too much different from me (mind you, I'm still in los Estados Unidos at this point). However, dire transformations took place mid-flight and upon arrival, the women were all scantily clad and the men were wearing too much duty free cologne. The drench of cologne took place the moment we landed - thankfully I only had to choke in those fumes for a couple of minutes, however, I must have slept through the announcement that it was time for females under 40 to strip down to bras and underpants and I walked off the plane more closely resembling the men on board. While we were waiting in line to go through Customs at approximately 10:45 p.m., the management apparently decided to go home and proceeded to turn off the hallway lighting, leaving us to fumble through our customs declarations by kerosene. Oh, the fun that was had.

Chao! (yes, that's how you spell it in Spanish)

Although I had my day of laziness I have been mostly all consumed by social engagements and playdates that have had me running around like I've just been shocked by a 400 Volt gun. This week has flown by. I did go to a Ranger's game last night with my brother and his fiance. We were on the 8th row right behind 3rd base. Awesome seats. However, people in Texas really don't watch baseball - they just go for the nachos and beer. I remembered how when I moved to St. Louis I was surprised by how focused people were on the game. Then last night, I couldn't believe that no one would let me watch the game. It took me a while last night to get back into social mode ... show up half way through the 2nd inning ... get your beer on the way in ... I didn't even look to see who we were playing until the 7th inning stretch! I did win the dot game though - go Blue!!

Let none of you doubt my friend's abilities to powerhouse out a kareoke of Bobby McGee at her own wedding reception. Truly, it was a site. Some of you will have the pleasure of seeing an encore performance at my own reception in two months. Feel free to anticipate, she will not disappoint. I would post a picture except that I can't find my camera and the essence would be lost in a still photo anyway. Maybe I'll make a flip book.

I leave tomorrow. I spent 4 hours packing yesterday and still have miscellaneous things that need to be taken care of before my 11 a.m. departure. I think I'll end up giving myself a Spanish crash course (la leccion) on the plane (el avion) so I can get through customs with little effort. Yesterday I was informed that this weekend I am going on my first trip-within-the-trip, so I will be in Cali for 2 days, and then to Popayan for the weekend. For those of you that are counting, this will be my 7th home in the last 6 weeks. And yes, I am counting.

Wish me well, see you on the other side!

This one's for you ... you former coworkers, you

Yesterday was spent in a haze of previously Tivo'ed episodes of House, Desperate Housewives, Everwood ... and I think a partial episode of Law and Order SVU even slipped its way in there. Dad made my lunch and I had to simply trapse over to my grandmother's for the Tuesday dinner.

Sweet, sweet unemployment.

Down with the World Wide Web

More than likely, postings will slow down for the next week - Mom and Dad had a falling out with AOL in the late twentieth century and refuse to partake in the information superhighway from home any longer. Apparently, it was so emotionally damaging to my father, that the mere mention of internet at home drives him into a full on rage that can only be consoled with an evening of heart healthy Pop Secret and Miss Congeniality, Collector's Edition (he has a small crush on Ms. Bullock).

Although this has nothing to do with the reason for my parents e-boycott, I like to think back to the day that mom phoned me in college, distraught with little bro yet again (my going away to college left my very juvenile brother home alone with two people he had never been forced to maintain a conversation with before ... he most definitely embodied the tall, silent type). Yes, apparently bro managed to set the home page of the family computer on porn site, so every time the computer was turned on, it would spiral through an unending circle of pop-up pornographic advertisements. Mother lacked the deftness required to click these away before they completely overtook the computer and so went the battle of the treacherous computer porn, with mouse and keyboard as her godly weapons. Throughout town, cries could be heard pleading to the sweet Lord that they not be held accountable for their sins and lo! a swifter unplugging of the PC there never was.

And then there was one

After I leave for the evening, I will just have tomorrow left for work. Pretty surreal at this point.

A friend of mine, currently also a coworker, had a baby boy this morning - congrats to Regan!! It's been about 12 hours since he was born and he is yet to be named. Regan is one of the pickiest people to have ever walked the earth, so none of us are really surprised by this inability to make a decision. It's probably killing her to not be able to do additional internet research before deciding the best available option. Anyway, so I get to finish my second to last day at work by visiting a new baby in the hospital ... awesome!!

Do I really have to be the one that stands up and points out the conspiracy that is Scott Savol's continued presence on American Idol?

I thought we had press for this.

Only Me

I believe I have warned you that I am a sympathetic vomiter, truly my queasy stomach is rivaled by none.

I am no longer staying with my foster parents, but am residing at a friend's place while she is out of town. The sink in her bathroom drains painfully slowly. This morning, I ran the water just a couple seconds before I spit out the foamy morning mouth toothpaste after brushing my teeth. Instead of the thick, pastey, nastiness washing down the drain immediately, it lingered in a small pool of water. I did what any red-blooded American would do and vomited 3 times, on the spot.

I am way beyond ridiculously pathetic.

The Missing

If I didn't mention it before, when I moved all my things to South Carolina about a month ago, the moving company managed to lose one box. This comes across as more than just a little suspicious to me. Losing one box seems so much less likely than losing 10 boxes, or losing all of the boxes. However, Dr. J and I are most happy to have the other 52 boxes and just have the one missing.

The problem is that we can't seem to figure out which box is missing. The company kept a numerical tally of all the items (i.e., numbers 130 - 182 or so were recorded as "boxes") and one of those numbers didn't surface at the move in date, thus, the Missing Box. Every time I think of something that could have been in The Box, I jump on the horn with Dr. J and declare that, alas!, I've finally figured it out, but he has been able to locate all of the possible missings within a couple of days. (Yes, Dr. J is slooowwwwwly getting all the boxes unpacked) We are both starting to think that there is nothing missing whatsoever, which would be fantastic! Not only would we not be missing anything, we can never really be sure, and will hence have a fallguy for many future problems.

Allow me to explain.

A year into our future there comes a day that Dr. J simply can not find that cable that allows you to download pictures from the digital camera ... I certainly did not accidently leave it at the lab over the weekend allowing it to be stolen, it must have been in The Box. Same with the Special Edition Spiderman DVD that Dr. J carelessly lent to a friend without requiring him to leave behind a government issued form of identification, it was in The Box.

Something tells me that if you have ever given Dr. J or I a gift that was .... ahem, less than worthy ... that was probably in The Box as well.

Rude Awakening

As I refilled the lead in my mechanical pencil it occurred to me ... as of Monday I have to start purchasing my own pens and pencils (or ganking the ones at the checkout counters)!

I have 3 days left working for The Man

I can say one good thing that comes from working for The Man .... The Paycheck. Not that it is a good one, by any accounts, just that there is one. With my leaving on Friday, I will have tres meses to survive on uno paycheck, so I'm guessing this means no more Friday Lattes. There was a grander plan to survive off of two paychecks since I didn't pay rent this month, but that was quickly absorbed into having to pay for temporary health insurance, car repairs, and oh yeah, the bill for that little jaunt over to the emergency room came through. I guess my rent doesn't quite total a paycheck, this may have been part of the flaw.

This last week has been a blur of listmaking - dear God, the things that I have to complete by May 10. I'm hoping to move into the side of checking things off the list rather than accumulating them ... and soon.

I will take this chance to say one other good thing about working for The Man - I have great coworkers that have really made me feel like I will be missed. Carry on the banner, fellas, carry on.

It's Funny Cause It's True

If you aren't in my profession or a related one, this will probably mean nothing to you, but in the spirit of engineer joke Friday, I give you my favorite.

A mathmatician, a physicist, and an engineer were all given a red rubber ball and told to find the volume.
The mathmatician carefully measured the diameter and evaluated a triple integral.
The physicist filled a beaker with water, put the ball in the water, and measured the total displacement.
The engineer looked up the model and serial numbers in his red-rubber-ball table.



Imagine! A red rubber ball table!

Classic.

I feel bad because I shouldn't have been rude to her even if she is a crack addict

Every now and then, I make small ... ahem ... teeeeeensey advances in the planning of the wedding. Yesterday, I decided it was time to do call and get prices for getting hair done*.

A friend gave me a recommendation for a place in Hachie, let's call it F-, and ask for K-. I was most definitely unprepared for K-'s personality, especially in a town where people speak at the pace of a casette player with an aging battery. I mentioned to K- that I was getting married in July and trying to do some price research on stylists for the Day Of. Oh, and actually, I am badly in need of a haircut right now. I get about one-third of the way through this sentence when K- pummels me with her autobiography, complete with where she was schooled and by whom and why her prices are as outrageous as they are and how justified she is in making them so and how the city should be thrilled that she bless them with her talents when she could be working anywhere in the world. Since I never got to the part where I actually asked her a question the first time, I finally interjected with the, so how much do you charge for an updo? if i were to bring in, say seven people in the span of two and a half hours, would you give me a reduced rate?

Ladies and gentlemen, I kid you not. Her response:

"Doctors don't reduce the rates they charge to their patients just because there are more of them"

Now, I'm not sure what choice you would make in this situation, but I have to admit I was floored with her arrogance. I mean, I'm the first to admit that saving roots is right on par with saving lives, I just hadn't really put it into words so eloquently before.

My response:

"waaaa ha ha ha AHAHAHAAHA".

Needless to say, we probably don't have a healthy enough of a relationship to make this work in the end. And so the research continues.


* Boys, you may find this premature, but this will be a morning of a least a quintet of "updos". These things must be planned - that and I'm about to be out of the country for dos meses.

Dad and Mom are 56 and 9 years old, respectively

So when I get home from my evening run last night I had 2 messages on my voicemail from the parents.

Message 1 [6:32 pm]:
[Mom spitting words through fits of hysterical laughter] CALL ME!! (aaaaaaaaaaa ha ha ha AHAHA) It's so FUNNY! CALL AS SOON (AHAHAHAHHHAAA] AS YOU GET THIS!!

Message 2 [6:47 pm]:
[Dad] This is your father. Call me. Your mother wants to publicly humiliate me.

(sidenote: this is the same dad thatwould send packages to me at college containing a sheet of paper with the word M E M O R A N D U M along the top of the page. And yes, there was a listing of all enclosed articles - encl. - in the lower left hand corner of the memo.)


A little background. Mom and Dad are taking a Spanish class together, once a week, on Mondays, from ... I don't know. But it must begin close to 5:00 or 5:30 because my Dad can't seem to get there on time. After walking in late last week, the teacher asked my father to stand and recite the days of the week (in Spanish, in case you missed that). Dad obediently stands up, takes a deep breath, and begins reciting, "Tuna ... ..." To those of you that don't speak Spanish, let me assure you there are no days of the week with the same name as a canned meat.

Moving forward to this week. So I return their phone call and my dad answers the phone. It went something like this...


[Dad] I'm out trying to earn a living and so I'm a little tardy to class. I try to come in unnoticed since the room is silent and so I go sit by your mother and try to find where we are supposed to be reading in the book.

[Mom, in an inaudible whisper] She wants you to stand up and recite the days of the week.

[Dad, frantic and hurried] What?!?

[Mom, in a slightly less inaudible whisper] The teacher wants you to stand up and recite the days of the week.

[Dad, quickly standing to not lose any more time begins in a confident voice] Lunes ... Martes ... Miercoles ...

[Mom guffaws hysterically and points at the slow-witted class dunce ... cackling alone since no one else was in on the joke ... eventually has to apologize to the class because she is unable to control her laughter. Church giggles remain long after the laughing subsides....]

To Do:

- Buy a house.

This was added to my To Do List (yes, mine is an ACTUAL to do list, written in my red vinyl planner - and if someone out there cringed that I carry a vinyl planner, I won't turn down $150 so I can hop over to Franklin Covey and purchase me the leather one with the smart little buckle that I've been eyeing. Until then, yes, vinyl) I don't know the first thing about buying a house other than it sounds like a much smarter thing to do than to take that sum of money equal to my apartment rent, puree it in a blender with a little peanut butter and a squeeze of honey and slap it between two pieces of enriched white bread. Plus, I don't have to worry so much about having to repaint the walls white when my time comes to an end.

And did I mention that I'm going to be going back to school starting this fall? I'm pretty sure I swore on my mother's grave I would never go back (no, she's not dead. maybe that's why it didn't work. no hard feelings, mom.) So the home buying will be taking place right about the time my current salary is cut in half. I have two words for that. Awe. Some.

Good God.

She really did use this word in an actual interview.

Paris Hilton's found a new pop singer's daughter for her Simple Life
escapades, USA Today reports. Rod Stewart's daughter Kimberly will slum it with
the heiress in Maui for the fourth installment of the Fox show. Hilton told
reporters she wanted the change to make the fourth season
"funner."

I'm not sure I would ever use the word "fun" to describe this show in the first place. Miserably depressing, maybe. Perhaps soul-less. Fun? No. Funner? No-er.

Now I've Gone and Done it

So I posted my blog address on my profile of my high school alum page*. Am I insane? Am I setting myself up for incessant judgings and ridicule that could otherwise have been avoided? I mean, yeah, there are My Peeps from high school - and themz knowzez whos theyz are, and Iz stillz loves ya - but do I want to open myself up to a pool of the unknown KNOWNS? I'll let you know if I crack and decide that I can't take the stress of knowing they're all just still sitting around in a puddle of green and white pom-poms, eating their dry cauliflower and snickering at my stupidity. They may never have been this bad, but my I-showed-up-naked-at-high-school-and-was-forced-to-audition-for-the-cheerleading-squad-and-sweat-through-a-series-of-poorly-executed-toe-touches-in-front-of-the-entire-student-body nightmares say otherwise.

*Run by "a local". Hachie alum, if you're out there and interested, email me and I'll give you the site

Mish Mash

My foster parents are going out of town for the weekend and my only duties are to walk the dog, feed the cat, and have dinner ready when they get home on Sunday so we can have Family Night and Scrabble it up. In exchange, I have a weekend alone with TWO TIVOS 'n da house!! And last night I scheduled a dozen or so movies/shows for my solitary viewing enjoyment. Most of which were classic 80s movies, it's lookin very much like I'm going to enjoy myself a large pizza with side of breadsticks to the tune of Breakfast Club/All the Right Moves/Sixteen Candles. Gotta love WE and O - they really know how to make a good lineup. I actually have tons to do this weekend that require me sitting and writing/computer-ing, so the Company will be nice.

By the way, have I mentioned that I have 14 days left here? CRAAAAAZZZZYY!

Which means that (EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!) I leave for ColOmbia, South America in a little less than 4 weeks. (Note to embarrassingly lazy self: do SOMETHING in Spanish starting this weekend) I know it's out there. But I'm not really dealing with it just yet. Not so much.

Cough, cough ... hack, hack

In case you are tempted, the Reduced Fat Nilla Wafers are NOT Nilla Wafers. Just suck up the extra 1.2 grams fat/serving.

[offstage right: dry heave and splatter of vomiting]




I'll probably eat them anyway though.

It's absolutely true that I am getting younger every day

This says I have the health age equivalent of a 14 year old and that I will live to the ripe old age of 84. Awesome. I wish my waistline reflected that, but a few evenings spent panting on the eliptical machine should cure that. I bet my mom comes out as a 7 year old.

So, public, let's hear it from you. How old do you feel?

Addendum:

After some replies from several people (and Dr. J saying he is "happily married" and coming out with an age of 18 and he is SO 35), I had to do a recheck. Apparently, post-wedding in July when I will THEN be "happily married" I will have a health age of 12. The benefits of marriage are seemingly unending.

I got this as a forward, but it's important enough to post!

I hate when people forward unwarranted warnings or virus alerts, but this one is important!!

If someone comes to your front door saying they are conducting a survey on deer ticks and asks you to take your clothes off and jump around to see how many fall off..., DO NOT DO IT! IT IS A SCAM! They only want to see you naked.

I wish I'd gotten this yesterday. I feel so stupid now...

Your Favorite Athlete (a quickie update)

stl marathon 7
Originally uploaded by missyajg.

You know, we walked it, but we had SO MUCH FUN!!! I did convince my Newest Training Partner to run the last mile and a half-ish, but mostly because it hurt so much to walk by that point that the running was a HUGE relief. I am a proud 3,686 finisher. And I totally smoked her there at the end (I tricked her into thinking I was ok with a tie - seriously though, that's her fault for believing me) but the official results either have it backwards, or we had our chips switched. That's what I get for being a chump.

I will spare you the photos of the blisters Mullsey and I have on our feet. I am only sorry that I don't have any of the post-post-post race photos (i.e., after lunch, after the nap, during the netflix movie soaking in Icy Hot, heating pads, ice, and a pan of brownies between us).

Mullsey, my original training partner, did AWESOME and ran the WHOLE long leg (that Mullsey is unstoppable) for her relay.

Sniff

Soon, I am going to just start delivering all my mail by hand.

And in case you are wondering, it is no coincidence that this is happening the year I am mailing out OH so many thank you cards, wedding invitations and the like. The Postmaster General has always had it out for me since the day I opened a piece of my neighbor's mail without realizing it didn't belong to me. And then for some reason I got flustered and decided I couldn't give it to them opened and threw it in the trash.

Whoa. whoa. whoa. WHHHOOAAAAA.

What in god's name is going on with people voting for American Idol's Scott Savol? WHAT? WHY?? WHO is voting for him?????? I am CLUUUUEEEEELESS. This guy is on the brink of committing probably his 32nd felony, cannot sing, CANNOT perform, cannot put together a coherent sentence worthy of a 2nd grade essay, cannot tuck in his shirt, cannot shave the line 1/2" below his jawline, cannot shave the 1/8" above his upper lip, and cannot breathe with his mouth closed. Mother of god, how has this guy lasted so long??

You may or may not agree with me about the singing part, but come. on. But it is not even possible that there is someone that thinks he's a performer. Need I remind you about the wire-rimmed glasses strip tease? Creepy. Raise your hand if you felt the need to go wash your hands after that one.

I ask you, Americans, to unite. Next Tuesday night, get out your cell phones and help me put an end to this circus.

A Friendly Reminder

To those of you who have been putting off your taxes: You have 8 days to postmark.

Get. On. It.
(to no one in particular)


My refund coincidently showed up on the day that I found the cutest little sundress. Happily, there is still probably enough left to justify the jean shopping that will commence this weekend.

Speaking of things that are this weekend, remember that half-marathon I was training for? That would be this Sunday. Things I have learned throughout this process are 1) I get sick too easily to battle 20 degree weather 2) I fall off the wagon like a watermelon off a 20-story balcony. This little debacle has been nothing short of catastrophic ending with my pneumonia and cracked rib, and severe shin splints and a hip injury for my running partner. She has consented to run the marathon relay with three of our other friends and I conned a friend into walking the 13 miles with me (the rib still does not permit the running). I paid the entry fee, I might as well cross the finish line and get all the goodies that come with. However, the "walk" begins at SIX A.M. I can only imagine that this is the penalty for my laziness.

Booooooooooooo.

I managed to thigh-rub a sizeable hole into the upper leg / lower crotch of my favorite jeans

Luckily, I noticed it before too many others did (I think).

Unluckily, I now must go jean shopping. I hate jean shopping. And it is always very unlikely that your new jeans will be anywhere near worthy of the old favorites that are down for the count. It seems to take me two or three pairs of moderately satisfactory jeans to find The Ones.

And there are no good outlet stores around here, which means I will probably be paying full price for the first test pair. Poor wounded wallet.

And to top it off, I forgot that I had a "package" sent to my parents house (since I'll hold temporary residence there for the next three months) and when I spoke to my dad this morning, I told him, "no, I don't know anyone in Las Vegas". Suspicion got the better of me so I am really the only one to blame for asking my dad to open my newly delivered birth control.

Awesome.


Addendum: apparently, he thought it was actually "medication" (see comments)

Long Time, No Post

Things are starting to wind down in the land of the overwhelmed. Although, I think I have a few more days of craziness before I go into full scale t.v. watching for some weeks. I should be working on my Spanish right now, because if you remember, este blog-o was created to have a place to post the Spanish learning process during my upcoming two months in ColOmbia. I can give you a quickie update for the now - it's going nowhere. The milestones I have left to complete between now and then are waning - merely dealing with some final "job hunting" issues, finishing up a project at work, attend a friend's wedding, polish up a couple bags of Doritos, and I think there is still a box of brownies left to be made. Knowing me, I'll probably start with the last one first.

I have a friend coming in tonight on business that I haven't seen in a very VERY long time. In fact, we used to date for some time, so this should be fun and awkward. I haven't seen him in about 5 years (I can't believe I'm even old enough to have not seen someone for FIVE YEARS that I dated until my senior year of college! Can this be right?!?!?!) Anyway, an evening of awkward silences probably lay ahead. This of course got Mullsey and I talking yesterday about what men we would much prefer come in town to visit us, and while we had a few that varied (I DO NOT SEE what you people see in Orlando Bloom and I refuse to put him on my list), we were able to essentially narrow our list down to a few:

1. John Cusack
2. Zach Braff
3. Ewan McGregor (me only, and not the Star Wars one)
4. Luke Wilson
5. Jude Law (me only)
6. Matt Damon
7. Edward Norton
8. Brad Pitt (really, it's cliche, but no list is complete without him)
9. Spiderman (late entry, see below)

We also made a similar list of men that are attractive, but have no real appeal since they seem to lack the quirky personality that makes men interesting:

1. Tom Cruise (notable exception: Top Gun, Risky Business)
2. Matthew McConaghey
3. Brad Pitt (yes, I KNOW he's on the list above. But ladies, let's give it to him, he's just THAT good looking)

There are many, many more men that belong on this list but my memory is failing me. Thus, there are blanks for your write in votes. I would love to put Tobey Maguire on the first list but I just read too much about him that makes him seem shallow enough that I half expect him to appear on the next season of The Bachelor. Spiderman, however, is a completely different story.

And just so I don't get into mucho trouble later, of course, the only man I really want is Dr. J. :-)

Thought for the Week

Based on a conversation Suzie the Bear and I were just having, I think it's time for a new thought for the week.

There is no freedom like that of not having to contain your own gas.
~ Missy

The mascara story goes like this

5th grade consisted of:

- the aforementioned perm/bang combo
- 3" thick lenses engulfed by heavy maroon plastic frame
- the fact that the frames were large enough to dip below my cheekbones and encroach upon the upturned corners of my mouth deserves its own bullet
- i was already nearing 5'4". i spent the next 15 years growing two inches, but when i was 10, i was a giant. in girth and stature.
- although i appreciate them now, my superman-long eyelashes gave me more than a little headache


So, sitting in class one day in 5th grade (mind you, I was right about 10 or 11 ... WAY TOO OLD TO DO THIS) I had reached the breaking point with the eyelashes brushing my glasses. It's not so much the downward part of the blink that's annoying. In the downward stroke, the eyelashes press past the eyewear and sort of invert their upward curly shape and have to lay on their sides at the blink-bottom. On the upward blink stroke, it can happen that the eyes can open entirely, while the inverted curl of the lash is caught on the eyeglasses. Thus, requiring the user to pull off the glasses or stick ones fingers behind the lenses to free the lash from the lens.

Let's add to this that my mother had me wearing mascara when I was 10 so that "people could see my beautiful eyes" from behind the pair of coke bottles on my face.

So in the blinking process, the downward blink caused mascara (aka, bat guano) smears splatterpainted in a line across my lenses, and the upward blink left me unable to open my eyes completely.

It was on one such occasion (blink, blink. strain to open eyes without using my hands, shoving my greasy fingers behind the lenses to release the lashes and leaving a smear of bat guano and palm grease in my wake) that a light bulb went off in my head.
Bathroom pass in hand, I sprinted down the hallway with the dreaded safety scissors tucked in my pocket (lord knows, I didn't run with scissors in my hand) and proceeded to whack off every last lash on both my eyes.

A happy blinker, I was.

Beat this.

If anyone needs me tonight I can be found swimming in a vat of flower-power brownies and bags of Doritos.

Today rocks. I overslept by about 40 minutes and managed to purchase my Friday Latte and still get to work on time. I suppose I should also be grateful that I didn't get a speeding ticket.

Oh, and! I spent the past two nights trying to thoroughly disinfect and repair wall boo-boos in my old apartment so I could get my deposit back. Yesterday, I show up to walk-through the place with the apartment manager and the moment we walk in the door I see two HUGE (1/2") nail holes (dr. j and I have a bit of a problem hanging things on the first try and it's the putting-in and taking-out that causes the large hole-age) that I completely forgot about. Immediately, I knew that would suck up my deposit (damn vultures), however, the manager proceeds to go open the oven door, refrigerator door, and toilet lid (I suppose I could have been storing something ghastly in any of those locations) and said, "looks great! c-ya!".

I really wish I could get those two nights back. I think they just wanted me to vacuum.


oh how times does fly!!!

28 DAYS REMAINING

I am a Girl. At least now.

I feel like the ultimate Ms. Priss. I spent a substantial part of last evening searching for and bidding on a silvery-diamond-ish tiara-comb thing on Ebay. AND my foster father* is going to have to follow up on the auction for me tonight throughout his fantasy baseball draft.

My mom is going to pass that kidney stone when she hears that.

Mom loves to relive the days when I refused to wear/do any of the following:

- a dress/skirt/skort/long towels
- pink
- bows
- makeup (although mom had me wearing mascara when i was about 10 ... something about how my 3" thick lenses kept people from seeing my beautiful eyes. not sure the mascara did anything but smear black goo all over the inside of my glass lenses ... story here ... save for later)
- shoes (i have the callouses to prove this)
- wash my hair more than once or twice a week ("helped" the frizz problem)
- brush my hair (truly i didn't ever brush it)
- tuck in my shirt (erroneous assumption that "baggy" hides the fat)
- not wear overalls/sweats (again, baggy)
- anything that might give someone the urge to tell me i looked "cute"
- socks that were not white
- carry a purse

I was The. Coolest.

Seriously.

It's not so much that I thought I was ugly, as I actually WAS ugly. You can't impose all of the above rules and have anyone still find you attractive. However, as in most things in life, I blame my mother for instigating the efforts-to-shun-my-gender when she gave me that perm/bang combo (to my already miserably thick and frizzy fro) in 4th grade. How do you recover from something like that?


But by 9:00 tonight, I should have my very own tiara. How's that for recovery?


* Since I moved out of my apartment last week and in with friends, I have gained foster parents. And a Tivo for a sibling. Ahhhh ....

My Sweet Baby

Dr. J and Dais
Originally uploaded by missyajg.

Daisy Maria (a.k.a. The Dias) passed away in her sleep on the morning of Monday, March 28, 2005. She leaves behind her parents, Missy and Dr. J, and countless honorary Aunts and Uncles, that loved her so very, very much.

You won't be forgotten.

Series beginning: Only Me

Many, many, many things from this weekend could be called Newsworthy, however since I am swamped with work and an overloaded personal agenda, a few stories will suffice. The most important of which comes from a little lesson I learned going through airport security on Thursday, and I defy you to show me anyone who has been taught a similar lesson.

So while trying to seem kool going through the bustle of declothing at airport security, I found myself in the all-too-common struggle of how to keep the boarding pass handy while taking off every article of clothing I was wearing. Stripping myself of my jacket, shoes, pants, shirt, whatever, required two hands so I was forced to place my boarding pass into my only free appendage, my lips. I did the polite folding-of-the-lips-back-over-my-teeth-so-as-to-not-get-the-piece-of-paper-wet-trick that I have been doing my whole life. Taking my jacket and shoes off required about 20 seconds at which time I was standing face-to-face with a large, beefy woman holding her hand out for me to give her my boarding pass.

Thus the fun began.

As I go to remove the boarding pass from my lips, the paper had completely adhered itself from one side of my bottom lip to the other. Tug. Tug. Nothing. I'm holding up the line and trying to move quickly, also getting quite nervous that this has no chance of ending pleasantly ... I start trying to push it off with my tongue. I'm not so sure if Beefy realized what was going on, if she did she certainly didn't find the fact I had a piece of paper pasted on my face in any way amusing - tug tug. Stuck. I'm wishing now I had torn the paper so that the piece that had become a part of my body could have eventually dissolved, but not having the privilege of hindsight, I firmly YANKED the paper and finally was able to free it from the hold it had on my mouth. However, the YANKING caused all of the skin on my lower lip to rip off and make this little smiley skin-line on the boarding pass and leave me with a bloody lip, trying to act as though nothing had happened.


It was only a matter of time until I started "Only Me". I've been cursed with this title since I was about two and a half. And there will be more.

I get to go home tonight!!

By home, I mean my parents house... back to the land of 10-digit dialing, mexican food yumminess and movie theaters that don't reek of B.O. Ahhh ...

I get to go home!!
I get to go home!!
I get to go home!!

This countdown is vanishing before I know what's happening. Rather exciting.

And I'm going to have to get all gooey and bridey but I AM SO EXCITED THAT I AM GETTING MY WEDDING DRESS FITTED!!! (yeah, no ... I'm not really so much a gooey kind of gal. except when it comes to crying. everything makes me cry. except for real-life things that are actually sad. same thing can happen in a movie and I'll drench my couch pillows with natural saline)

Oh sweet fresh flour tortillas! Oh my blessed chimichanga!! We will be together soon!

Kiss that Snooze GOOD-BYE!

Would someone PLEEEEAASE buy this for me? I don't think I can live another day without it!!!

Clocky

(Thanks, Mulls)

This could really be interesting

I get to fly home to Big-D tomorrow (that's Dallas for all you non-Texan-persons) and L.B. is supposed to pick me up at the airport. I just recieved word from him that his Big Truck (of course it's a truck, it's Texas) is on the fritz with a broken water pump. This is following a weekend of extensive vehicular repairs that required him to have his Big Truck hauled back to Hachie on the Monster Trailer my dad built. Not to worry - he has a solution. He'll pick me up at the airport, hand over the keys to me and LET me drive it to Hachie.

Ummm ... Thanks?

How is it my responsibility to make a 1/2 hour solo drive in a crippled truck? There are no possible times when a second party could follow the truck in case whatever action the water pump performs causes the automobile to strand the motorist?

Everyone who thinks this is a bad idea say "Aye".

Let's go ahead and add to this that the Big Truck is actually 4.3 times the size of the car I normally drive around. I say, if I can lay across the front seat and not have my head or pointed toes touch either door panel, it's too big.

No time to stop now

Are you ready for this????

L.B. is ENGAGED. Details to follow.


I'm currently overburdened with more carboard boxes than I can feasibly handle, all wanting to be filled with every item in my apartment down to the last scrap of toilet paper or elusive phone cable. Mom and I were up to the wee hours each night packing .... and pack we did.

Funny to me that I actually have phone cable strung along my apartment. I think that at one point, I must have intended to get a phone line but just never got around to it. One less utility to cancel. Excellent.

And I'm desperately trying to get work done despite the fact I have 43 things to take care of before the movers arrive here at 7 in the morning. I am what is medically referred to as a basketcase.

Tomorrow's Countdown

I am fully aware that I am probably the only one that is sincerely concerned about how many days until the Day I Quit My Job, but it's my blog so it will be continued to be posted. Tomorrow, Mum and I are going to be doing shamefully girl-ish things (that I hope results in a pedicure and oh, maybe a pair of cute strappy sandals) and I'll be sans computadora all day (Raise your hands if you caught the TRIO OF LANGUAGES represented in this sentence! YAY FOR YOU!)

Thus the countdown be-eth...

42 DAYS REMAINING

That seems so soon!!

Maybe I'm alone here but ...

Here's the thing. Dr. J is currently in Spain for work and poor little Daisy is having to amuse herself for a week in an empty apartment. Truly, you have never met a more needy cat. I mean, she can't help but provide complete companionship for her owners, but Dear God! she can't handle the despair that comes with any alone time and spirals into deep depression when left alone for more than 24 hours. All of the sudden, our very potty trained cat will poo on the floor, seemingly to express her displeasure, or pee on the bathmat. She seems to have enough respect for Dr. J and I to only pee on things that can be washed relatively easily.

So there's this girl (that speaks very little English) who is going by in the evenings (I think) to feed The Dais. This would be her first time playing this role. I feel for her, truly I do, because The Dais has been at her worst. The first day, the girl was traumatized because she could smell "urine" when she went to the apartment. Bathmat. Got it. On Day 2, The Dais apparently vomitted, and "excrement" was fouhd right in front of the entryway. Now, pet owners round the world know that blantantly visible "excrement" is a sign of flagrant disapproval. The vomit, however, has more to do with her illness, and poor Dais does pray to the porcelain god more often that I like to admit. It was also reported that "the animal" was not eating much. What can I say? She likes company!

Anywhooo, so I let her know that the soiled bathmat would be fine for another week and gave her this tip and comforted her with not-to-worries. But after her Day 2 trip, she let me know that she grudgingly did clean the "excrement" but was unable to attend further to the vomit.

One week old vomit will be ready to greet your arrival come next Tuesday, Dr. J!! HOORAAHH!

Now, I'm a sympathetic vomiter, truly, the mere sound or odor of vomit makes me dry heave, but no matter how much I hated it, I don't think I could leave a puddle of yesterday's partially digested lunch to swell on someone's carpet for a week. Am I alone?

Bring on number 3!!

Sorry I haven't been posting. I missed work Tuesday from antibiotic side effects and L.B. is in town for work so we've been chillin' in the evenings. Well, except for Tuesday. AND Mom comes in town tonight because there is a plethora of activity here in wedding land which includes my moving out of my apartment (Dr. J, you will have furniture soon!!) and a wedding shower this weekend. I'll be nomadic for the month of April - actually, for April, May, June, July, and half of August, something I'm sure will make me appreciate my bed when I finally see it again next August.

Tuesday consisted of me lazing about on the couch with much heating pad-ish action going on. Once I felt a little better I decided it was time to go and rent a movie, which I just almost never do, and about 10 minutes later, I found myself exploring the previewed movie selection at Blockbuster. It took me all of 5 seconds to find Spidey DOS on sale, and then Garden State, at which point I surrendered the silly notion that I would rent anything at all. My 5-minute drive home seemed to last an eternity with Spidey and DVD special features just crying out to be watched. And watch I did!! ALL of the movie, commentary, and Special Features .... the knowledge is now within me. And NO I will not reveal to you the subtle differences in the Spidey costume from I to II.

I am also excited about GS, but since I've had a crush on Spidey since before I was aware of the Y Chromosome, restraining myself was not really an option. Knowing that the third movie will not be released for another TWO YEARS is enough to kill a person. Well ... ok ... so maybe now I should restrain myself.

THANK YOU SAM RAIMI!! You are my hero!

It resulted in me watching Dirty Dancing on the couch, and that's hard to complain about

This wasn't my favorite adventure, but I'm sure someday ... when it stops hurting ... I'll sit back and laugh about it.

So Friday night, Mullsey was to join me for an evening in of watching silly movies and serious down time. I was all ready to make a quick dinner for us and lounge. Lounging we did, but only in the quazi-comfort of the ER waiting room.

After weeks and weeks (and weeks) of coughing, I finally coughed and felt (and I swear I heard) a painful pop in the middle of my back. And I mean PAIN. FUL. Poor Mullsey had to watch me weep and pretend to be fine for about 10 minutes before we decided to go to the hospital. So off we went! Since we had only been at my place for about 15 minutes before The Cough Heard Round the World, we were pretty hungry and after signing in, she left to go get din-din and returned with food, non-chocolate candy, magazines and crossword puzzle books. HOW AWESOME IS THAT?!

This is totally going to turn into an Ode to Mullsey ...

And then she proceeded to stay with me at the ER for SEVEN AND ONE HALF HOURS until they finally told me I had pneumonia, I was not pregnant, and probably a cracked rib. (Prego test only a precaution for the x-ray - don't worry Dr. J!!) The good news is that they told me to call first thing Monday and gloat to my idiot Dr. and tell him what he did. That and they gave me an antibiotic and new cough syrup that has all but cured my cough. However, there is this little side effect of the nauseating, tastes like I'm sucking on a rusty pole on the playground thing going on, apparently produced by the antibiotic. And something is definitely making me produce copious amounts of thick yellow green mucus ... better out than in!

So back to Friday, my favorite part was when I first hurt my rib and was sitting in my rocker, like the decrepit, broken, senior citizen that I have become, when Mullsey walks over to bring me some tissue. Having just been to the gym, she was wearing these sweatpants that, apparently, did not have any elastic in the waist and merely tied on. Just as she was about two feet from me and was handing me the tissue, the black sweatpants made a swooshing sound as they collapsed at her ankles. And no, I don't mean they caught on her hips or knees or anything. She was suddenly standing there in her t-shirt and underpants. I don't know why she didn't pick them up immediately except that maybe she was laughing harder than I was. And yes, it hurt HORRIBLY to laugh, but come on! How often do you get to see someone's pants swimming around their ankles?!

Mullsey, you rock my world.

Thought for the Week

Fish frys in the middle of a work day, do not a pleasant afternoon make.

- Missy

Miracle of miracles!

So today, I was EXCEPTIONALLY late to work so I had to forgo my Friday morning latte HOWEVER! I was here for all of 37 minutes before I get an email from our admin saying she's making a Starbucks run and do I want anything? DO I EVER??! And I've had a bit of a focusing problem lately so I requested a caff latte. CAFF. I'll let you know how this works out. I'm jittery just thinking about it.

Happy Friday everyone! I'm a bit discouraged from the ongoing struggle to find shoes I like for the wedding that aren't boring, expensive, and one-time-ers. I thought I found some last night and while they are great for sundresses and what not, I got them home and tried them on with my winter uniform (sweatpants, sweatshirt), they are just not quite right. Too casual. Sigh.

And the countdown is ...

49 DAYS REMAINING

Wow! Not to state the obvious or anything, but that's totally less than FIFTY!

Oscar Parties Require Feather Boas

Let's All go to the Movies!!
Originally uploaded by missyajg.

A non-kitty photo, as promised. (And a self portrait, to boot!)

Me and my very kewl friend and party co-host sporting our coordinating hot- and baby-pink feather boas. You can't tell from this pic, but we have her little fluffy white puppy in our laps, also wearing a boa. Since he is a boy, his father is concerned that posting pictures of him on the internet wearing a pink feather boa would be detrimental to his acting career. Sorry, Mr. Murph, you can be in the next picture.

Sometimes, I really do have the coolest little bro ever

Ok, so it's like this...

Dr. J and I are having wedding reception #1 in Dallas, the night of the wedding. This is the "official reception" although officially, we are calling it a dinner since the words on the wedding invite will read something to the effect of "reception immediately following ceremony in the church fellowship hall". This is completely unnecessary information to understand the extent of little bro's coolness.

Reception #2 is going to be in ColOmbia at the home of Dr. J's family at which time all members (and there are more than a few) of his extended family will be in attendance. This will take place one week to the day after Wedding Reception #1. My mother and father will be joining Dr. J and I in ColOmbia. This will be their first trip to ColOmbia (no, they don't speak Spanish and no, Dr. J's family does not speak English). Me entiendes?

Little bro (LB) had originally planned on going but since he started a new job about a month ago, I pretty much assumed those plans went out the window. However, as it turns out, LB negotiated this before he actually took the job! WOW!! I TOTALLY UNDERESTIMATED HIM!!


Not only that, but he's coming here for a week for work (next week) and we will get to hang and do things like watch TV in silence and eat hot wings. Sadly, I have a work trip that will be taking me to Albuquerque (there are no words to describe how irritated I get when I have to spell that word. It takes SO much thought) for two days. I never go anywhere! Why do I have to go somewhere the week that LB is in town?

So, what's the verdict? Would I have gotten in trouble

I was just reminded of a little story from my childhood

Once when I was little, I had a friend spend the night. I wish I could remember who it was, seems like something any of us might have done ... maybe it was Leigh-Ann ... anyway ... So I'm sure we drank lots of soda or juice or something and then stayed up talking until way too late at night at which time we found ourselves needing to relieve ourselves. Now, I'm sure Mom and Dad had both come in on multiple occasions to tell us to be quiet and go to sleep, so it seemed obvious to us that we must be as silent as possible during our bathroom excursion. Since our bathroom was right across the hall from my parents room and my dad slept with the door cracked, obviously, we could not use the actual toilet or we would have been in much doo-doo. Logically, we decided to use the only other facility in the house that would not waken my parents slumber, so one at a time, we climbed up on top of the counter and proceeded to use the kitchen sink.

Hmm .... which do you think we would have gotten in more trouble for? Waking dad while using the actual toilet? Or for using the kitchen sink as a urinal?

Nope we didn't get caught, so I guess we'll never know the answer to that.

I honestly can't roll my eyes hard enough

This guy brings new depths to the meaning of the word idiot.

Coughing on the Treadmill is Not the Fun You'd Think it Would Be

So yesterday evening, I attempted to pick back up the training that has been ... er, stalled ... from all the hacking and illness. My dream of winning the St. Louis Half Marathon went down the toilet with the three weeks worth of mucus filled Kleenex. My new and more realistic dreams are of finding a fourth teammate so that we can run the Marathon Relay (4 people with relay distances assigned to complete the full Marathon). If you know someone who lives in St. Louis, enjoys running but doesn't have the time or desire to train for a whole marathon and has $50, feel free to send me their name.

It's still cold-ish here and with the lingering cough I'm really not up to battling the cold, so I decided to treadmill it yesterday. I got about a mile into it before the coughing started. The thing about coughing on the treadmill is that the buckling-over reflex that is required with the really deep coughing, is more than just a little challenging when the floor is rolling out from under you at a steady pace. The first time I did it, I came inches from being thrown off the back end, just catching the sidebars of the treadmill and sprinting to recovery. It really wasn't that bad or that ungraceful, I'm not even sure that the swollen steriod of a man strolling on the treadmill next to me even really noticed. But then it was just a cough or two. The second time, was much more artistic. It was a full on coughing attack. I started groping for the side bars as soon as I felt it coming on, arms flailing and tripping over my own feet as I struggled to keep myself 1) upright 2) on my own treadmill and not in the lap of some innocent bystander and 3) from developing an audience (I'm not really looking for applause when I go to the gym - I prefer the anonymity that comes with having the body of a mediocre bacci ball player). I was kinda in shock by how quickly the whole thing took place. The clamboring definitely seemed to impede my ability to even cough in a satisfactory manner and of course, I had too much pride to simply stop the run for a moment so I could rid myself of the coughing fit, so the fun continued with the awkward buckling over and clamboring routine for another 15 minutes or so until I finally had enough to call it a successful comeback game ... truly it was a sight.

Sidenote: I'm sure that the poor chumps forced to run on the treadmills next to me were also not amused by the fact that it took more energy than I could muster to actually cover my mouth during any of the fits. At the time, I was so exhausted from the efforts of righting myself that it didn't really occur to me to try or to care.

I promise that I will stop diverting you to other websites but this just can't be helped

This makes me wish that I believed in reincarnation and that I could curse this guy to come back in his next life as a woman, work in middle management, and have three kids at home. Absolutely unbelieveable that there are people in the world with ideas like his.

As it is, please let him get fired (for this very email), and let him have to work under a woman for his next job. Amen.

30 Second Bunny Theatre

There are others on the website but this was my favorite.

It's a Wonderful Life (as re-enacted by bunnies)

Announcing the newest addition

To other friends of Karo, in case you aren't in a habit of checking her blog regularly ...

Check out the news.

I can see how this could happen ... but I'm SO glad it wasn't me!

Here's the story ...

Now, here's the thing. I know that my leaving the television on for Daisy when I have to leave and I had promised her I would be home is more for my conscience than hers, but maybe, just maybe, it lets her know that I care. I mean, obviously this works and makes them less lonely. I think the fact that Dr. J and I left the TV on all weekend when we went to Atlanta and came home to big foot speaks for itself. Clearly, she watched TV all weekend and was entertained and fulfilled.

Maybe we should have been more sensitive to the channel that we left it on ... there could have been a series of Joan London interviews - it was the weekend prior to the Oscars. Maybe she was speaking out in protest.

This is too cute.

Sound on, please.

I got me some Vitamins!

I have been anti-Vitamin for quite some time now. Dad used to force them down my throat every morning at the breakfast table until I was 16 (until my friend Missa sort of just moved in and I happily let her eat my morning meal and vitamin). On days that he stood there and watched, I actually swallowed it. They always did nauseate me. I'm not really so sure if it was the vitamins that did the nauseating, or the fact that we were required to eat from all four of the main food groups every morning before school.

I couldn't wait to go to college and escape this torture. I didn't eat breakfast for like 5 years out of protest once I finally left.

For those of you that are sitting there saying, wow, she is sooo ungrateful .... I'm gonna come into your home every day approximately 30 minutes before you are ready to wake up and make you eat eggs, toast, a pear, and a cup of yogurt every morning before you are even permitted to go to the bathroom. Let's see how hungry you REALLY are at 6:00 in the morning. Every day. Not just the days following the evenings that you FINALLY managed to drag yourself to the gym and you actually have an appetite. And if you still think that sounds nice, how 'bout the mornings that I change it up a little (just so you don't have to eat the same fried/scrambled/poached eggs, toast/bagel/english muffin, canned apple/pear/peaches, yogurt/milk/cheese) and for the carbohydrate, maybe I use the leftover spaghetti from the night before and put a little cheese on it, with a side of bacon and a banana? Mmmm mmm .... gooooood. And yeah. You gotta eat all of it. Before you can get ready. Now take your vitamin. Eat up!

So I was pretty much sick to my stomach by about the middle of first period every day - lots of burping of unwanted pears and bananas, but mostly I remember the vita-burps. Those are the worst.

However, I can't seem to shake this illness, so yesterday I got some vitamins. I got some chewable ones since I tried this once before in college when I got sick and the ginormous multi-vitamin still produced the nausea and the vita-burps, so I'm trying a new avenue. Get well, self!


Dad, you get a big A for effort. And Missa loved it!

So Like I Said ...

Daisy's Fat Foot
Originally uploaded by missyajg.

Never did figure out what made her leg do this, but see!? I'm talkin bout serious swell-time goin on!

There's probably some sick dog somewhere in the world lickin his lips and gettin off on this picture. Lunatic canine sicko.

I promise to one day post a non-cat picture. Really.

Mom, This Should Make you Proud

My coworker, Mullsey, and I were just having a intra-office IM conversation and the last few lines were something to this effect:

Missy: That thing looks like poop.

Mullsey: Whatever, poop is brown, that's grey. What color do you poop?

Missy: Shades of grey, sometimes lemon-lime.

Mullsey: Yes, then, you are right. That thing looks like your poop.

Missy: I remember this one time when I was a kid that I drug my mother to the toilet to show off some bright green poop - wonder what I ate that made me do that?

Mullsery: My friend's cat once ate the green feathers off a toy a he pooped bright green for a while.

Missy: (thinking ... did I eat feathers off a cat toy once? )

Missy: Poop is cool.

Mullsey: Yeah.


This is probably the only thing we've done that has wasted more of our time than when we spent the morning touching each other's noses trying to discover the differences. And I'm here to tell you, there are a few - that Mullsey has a squishy nose.

I'm Just LOVING Fridays

Today I feel MUCHO better - so much so that I stopped and got bagels for the office (attendance is low here, I'm only semi-generous as it only takes about a dozen scrumptious little delicacies to fill the tummys of this workplace). Sadly, the trip did cost me the time that is normally devoted to acquiring the Friday Latte, but a little Good Samaritan every now and then never hurt nobody.

Ahem.

56 DAYS REMAINING

Isn't that AMAZING!? And that's calendar days! And considering that I have 3 vacation days yet to be taken between now and then ... that's not much time! I bes get haulin it on dis here project I dun been assignded. I'm starting to not even mind so much that I'm already being phased out of all the goings on and project assignments here.

Welcome Back to Me

Yeah, I took a turn for the worse yesterday but am back at work again today. Yippee. And yes, I've been sick for about 3 weeks now. Tuesday I made an ultimatum to my cough that it would be no more once I woke on Wednesday, but it was all, "oh yeah, ho? take this", and I was all, "whatever dude, I can take anything you dish", and it was all, "pah-leease! losersaywhat?". And then it turned a nasty fever meltdown thing on me. Anyway, I'm back at about 80% today though.

Probably no one has time to read this whole thing, but it's just hilarious.

10 Worst Album Covers of All Time

The Results Are In

He said I have a cough. Thanks, Mister Doctor Man.

This was a new doctor for me - can't say I was that impressed with his clientelle, of which I was the youngest by at least 83 years, or by his stale nursing-home-smelling workplace. We talked, he poked at my ribs a time or two [shudder, cringe, squelching of cries], and then magically produced a red plastic bottle out from the back of some shelving units, slapped a prescription label on it, warned that it might make me drowsy due to the coedene (sp?) it contained, turned and mumbled something about drive safely.

For a while, the coughing subsided a bit, and [yawn] now I am falling aslelskeep at my keeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeuybo orrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr ........

Can't Hardly Wait

The cough is just getting worse and yesterday it went from badgering and annoying to mind blowingly deep to the point that I'm pretty sure I've cracked, if not at least bruised, my rib. The one thats all the way at the bottom on my right side - I'm positive I wasn't completely aware that ribs went down that far until the hacking. I really can't quite sit comfortably now and don't come close to standing up straight (very Kirsten Dunst / Maggie Gyllenhal-esqe).

Yes, finally, I have made a doctor's appointment. It's in about 45 minutes and I want so badly to get some work done between now and then, but the thought of this cough going away sometime soon has so overwhelmed me with excitement that it's pretty much all I can think about [cough, hack, cough].

I wonder if this doctor is aware of my miracle voodoo-like expectations of him?

Picture Worth a Million Words

Has everyone seen Million Dollar Baby? I was a little belated with my viewing due to the coughing (still here - super!), but saw it Saturday night.

Oh. My. God.

Don't expect a feel good flick, but definitely go and see it. In the theaters. My friend (who talked incessantly throughout the movie, sometimes just chit-chat) and the elderly woman on my right, swaddled in thirteen blankets can attest to the fact that I sobbed uncontrollably for the last 45 minutes of the movie. I'm pretty sure the sobbing actually shook all of the seats in row 2 (that's how badly I wanted to see this - I DO NOT SIT IN ROW 2 IN NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES). And then I dreamed about it. Couldn't get this one out of my head.

Hopefully no one has spoiled this movie for you. Kudos to the producer for only releasing clips from the first half hour for advertising. We need more people like you in the world.

I foresee myself becoming a Hillary Swank stalker but I'll keep you all informed if it gets that serious.

Oscar Weekend!

I can't let this go without discussig it. One of my favorite nights of the year - the night we can all sit around pretending we are happier with our natural mushy breasts and pudding like bodies, munch (ahem, stuff our faces) with various saturated fat goodies and sigh and complain about the poor fashion choices of hollywood's finest. (Ahem. Just to practice ... "I would SO not have let even Vera herself convince me to wear that atrocity and HELLO? what's wrong with NOT baking yourself orange for a change")

So my key Oscar picks are (I would put them all but you won't stay around to read them):

Best Picture: Million Dollar Baby
Best Director: Clint Eastwood - Million Dollar Baby (Although there is always the possibility of the academy pulling one of their pity votes out to Martin)
Best Actor: Jamie Foxx - Ray (pretty much got that in the bag and deservedly so, but pah-lease give your acceptance speech a little more thought ahead of time than you have before the other awards presentations though)
Best Actress: Hillary Swank - MDB (ummm ... yeah ... and thank your hubby this time)
Best Supporting Actor: Gonna go with Thomas Hayden Church although I think this one's up for grabs
Best Supporting Actress: Cate Blanchett TOTALLY deserves it although I've heard too much hubbub of others to be sure
Best Original Screenplay: The Aviator (though not a sure thing)
Best Adapted Screenplay: MDB (methinks this one will do well this year)

I am SOOOOOO dreading having to listen to Chris Rock's nasal voice babble on and on and black vs white people. Dude. Nobody thinks that's funny anymore. For real. At least not when you say it. I mean really, it's enough to have to listen to Melissa and Joan on the red carpet before hand and come to think of it, Joan's fingers-scraping-a-chalkboard-like voice suggests that she could have conceived Chris Rock herself ... oh, and tell me, why is mid-thirty year old Melissa already frequenting the Botox guru???

Just 'cuz

Tain't nobody rant likes da fruitcake lady.

Happy Friday!!

I LOVE IT

Ladies and Gents!

Ask no more advice of me, when thou art pondering how to let thy formerly-loved-ones go, but lo! look upon thine own website, for the noblest of partings...

The delicate problem of how to dump a loved one before moving on to the next has been given a new twist by a Dutch Web site. The site suggests women tell their partner they want a baby and men buy their girlfriend underwear that's too big...

Although this first tactic may work for a guy (actually, yeah ... that'll make any guy run), the second is probably more likely to just anger the female, maybe make her cry, but the outcome probably won't be so much for her to leave, as to begin "training" her male.

Thought for the (past two) Weeks

Sorry that I was out last Friday and didn't post a thought (or more importantly, the updated countdown)

It takes a big man to cry, but it takes a bigger man to laugh at that man.
- Jack Handey

(God, I miss that guy)

63 DAYS REMAINING

I am the only person in the world that this would happen to

I wish I were joking, but I have undoubtedly pulled a muscle in the back of my neck from all this nonsensical coughing, and apparently, when one pulls muscles in ones neck it makes ones right arm cramp up. Things do seem to be spiraling downhill these days ...

Not a Dull Moment

I'm still trying to decide how successful I think the trip was.

I only got about 5 hours sleep the whole weekend and sadly, this is not because Dr. J was overjoyed to see me, but because I have developed a severe case of the whooping cough which won't leave me alone for 30 seconds so that I may fall asleep, no matter how much drowsey medication I take. I am open to ideas for home remedies if you have suggestions.

Atlanta, at least the part we went to, was very odd. We were in this very fancy pants part of town, sort of, but then it was so incredibly overcrowded, it literally took us an hour to get from an intersection right next to this ritzy mall, to an actual parking spot. And I'm pretty sure Dr. J got the bird on his driving more than just a couple of times - no, it wasn't me. The 43 minutes spent moving 2.2 mph in the parking lot to an available spot was enought to make you want to drive hot pokers through your eyes. So, it was as though it should have been nice, but it was just suffocating ... of course, all this plus the coughing.

Then there was the issue of leaving The Dais in an empty apartment alone for 28 hours with an overflowing bowl of catfood. Somehow, in that barenaked apartment, she did something that caused her front left paw/leg, to swell up to the size of the other three put together (yes of course I took a picture, I'll upload it one of these days). So after being in ColUmbia for all of 3 days, she already has her own veterinarian (who was definitely not entertained by the fact that I couldn't speak loudly enough for her to hear me across the counter, requiring me to come around into the Employee Only Zone [cough cough].

The whooping cough has also caused my running to come to a temporary halt - I hope it's temporary anyway. All of the lucky people that actually made it to the theater this weekend were spared of my incessant coughing since we never found the time. Once, we thought we had, so I left Dr. J in a 4 mile long line to get tickets while I rushed to get us some Chik-Fil-A (we opted for the movie and quick eats over a nice relaxing dinner and no movie), but just as I emerged from the line with Chik in hand, Dr. J calls to say it's sold out. Cough.

Fortunately, sucking on ice chips for 2.5 hours on the plane sedated my coughing enough to get through it without too much misery, oh, yeah, and ... i lost my keys on the way back and almost had to stay at a friend's house. Luckily I realized this before I left ColUmbia and J still had an old copy of the apartment key, providing me access to my spare key tucked away neatly inside my apartment. Rock on.

And yes, right now, i'm eating reduced fat peanut butter right out of the jar. mmmmmm ....

So, what do we think, fellow Chik-Fil-A lovers, successful or no?

Flight of the Bumblebee

Daisy. never. once. stopped. spinning around. in that bag. the whole five hours. in the airport. in the plane. in line at security. like a caged bird on speed.

oh Boy! oh Boy! oh Boy!

Sorry guys! Mid Tuesday morning I took ill with The Office Flu-like thing. Sleeping the afternoon away on a Tuesday was something I once only dreamed of in college when I was forced to hold my weary eyelids open with safety pins while looking longingly at my pshych-major roommie as she turned off her alarm in time to watch Oprah. Now it's finally my turn - although post-nap, I wasted the day away on the couch watching SATC reruns (I hate that Mr. Big! Why does Carrie never learn? WHY? Whyyyy? no ... I know, I do know the end, but I just finished Season 2 of the reruns) Spending my last day-ish of Me&Daisy watching the tube and cuddling with her on the couch seems like a perfect ending.

Today is the day that Daisy goes in the bag for the big trip to ColUmbia - I will let you all know how we fare. How is it that airlines can permit people to bring cats/dogs into the cabin when about every third person has allergies to one or the other? Dr. J and I have big plans for the weekend - scratch off the last few Oscar movies I haven't seen yet (popcorn, mmmmmm), lots of miscellaneous wedding details to take care of (fun ones though, like registering and getting rings picked out), and our Valentine's Recognition Day, which would be tomorrow. I can't say I've ever been big on V-Day, I'm not so much of a mushy-card kind of gal. However, I am of the opinion that if you do decide to get your special-someone a special-something, it should not be a car charger for your cell phone no matter how badly you need it. Sigh. Sadly, some of us learned that the hard way.

I am so sad.

The mother of one of my dearest friends passed away last night following a frighteningly quick decline over the last few weeks from her brief battle with cancer. It seems so very unjust that anyone should ever have to live without their mother.

Bittersweet

On Thursday, I will FINALLY get to go to ColUmbia to visit Dr. J whom I haven't seen since Turkey Day. and oh has it been a long three months! Sadly, I won't see him again until May, and then not again until the Big Day (tum tum ta tum!!). But it is not this excessive passage of time between visits that makes this would-be-cheerful day sorrowful, it is because my dearest angel, Ms. Daisy, is going to stay with Dr. J when I return to St. Louieee next Tuesday.

I have told Daisy that we are going on a plane Thursday to ColUmbia and that she will be moving there permanently, but I have failed to mention to her that I will be returning. This information would probably do her in entirely and I don't think she could handle the stress of being stuffed into a bag for 6 hours and forced to ride underneath the seat in front of me on a plane combined with the fact that her mom is leaving her shortly thereafter.

Sniff.

The Dais really is the koolest kat around - Seriously, how many of you have kitties that stand at the foot of your bed and wait until the moment you lay your head on your pillow to come and snuggle up to your chest and makes you pull your arm around her so she can lay her head on your arm? Any of you? Huh? I didn't think so. And do any of you have kitties that so love all your friends that she wants to sit on their laps within minutes of meeting them? Anyone? What? What's that? Yeah, whatever, liar. Does anyone have a kitty that actually waits until you get up in the morning, regardless of how long you sleep in, to start asking for breakfast? I think not!

Dear, dear Daisy!! How you will be missed! Our time together has passed much too quickly and it saddens me that we will have to share our life with an outsider. I mean, wait, no, ... hmm ... yeah. I mean, cool Dais! we get to ... uh .. go live with Dr. J now! How fun for us all! (make sure he cuddles with you and I mean, a lot, and don't think I won't know, cause I'll know and he'll pay. Oh yes. He'll pay.)

Daisy you are and forever will be, The Wind Beneath My Wings. So fly. Fly. Flyyyyyyyyy!!!

Your Self Worth Should Not be Defined by Your Inbox

Courtesy of Mr. Adams

Thought for the Week

No matter how late it makes me on Fridays, I MUST enjoy a Tall-Nonfat-Decaf-[Insert Flavor]-Latte (no whip, if option available). I always feel just a touch silly ordering a latte and removing all the ingredients that actually make it a coffee/latte other than brownness, water, and flavoring, and there were times that this bothered me enough that I would intentionally neglect to request decaf just to make the ordering process a little less eyebrow raising. But as I waited, I would have a panic-attack with the thought of injecting myself with all that unnecessary caffeine, and I swear my chest would tighten and my left arm would go numb. Inevitably I would sprint back to the counter and beg that it be decaf. I'm over it though. I don't care so much if the Starbucks employee judges me.

To celebrate my new self-confidence-while-ordering-a-coffee-at-Starbucks, this week's thought will honor my Friday guilty pleasure. I have no idea who this Stephanie Piro person is, and it's only partly true for me (by partly, I'm not sure if I mean the successful or the substantial part), but nevertheless ...

Behind every successful woman...is a substantial amount of coffee.
- Stephanie Piro

That and,

77 DAYS REMAINING

The Cheetoe Fast

I am a soldier in the Army of the Lord and this year I expect to earn a star. I have done the unthinkable and gave up chips and chocolate in ALL FORMS (cheetoes and oreos included) for Lent.

You are all invited to a Cheezball Party at the folks house come Easter. I'll probably be unconscious on mountains of empty canisters soaked in cheeze-ness up to my elbows by 9:00 am so make sure you get there early.

Wondering

Does anyone know why those brown scratchy paper towels in public restrooms always seem to be Scotchguarded?

As if Having Chris Rock for a Host Wasn't Bad Enough

I guess the Academy decided to finally give up on trying to convince the world that it cares anything about appreciating the art of movies and is just going to sit back, kick off their Manolos, and ogle the superstars.

... in an attempt to keep the interminably long award show running at a faster clip, producer Gil Cates has announced some major format changes, including handing some of the lower-profile statuettes to winners at their seats rather than having viewers wait for the largely unrecognizable behind-the-scenes folks to make that long trek to the stage ...

This Boy is my Idol

Despite what my parents think, I never really did anything wrong. One of my worst acts of rebellion was probably when I was 14 or so and I drove without a license. Sadly, it was because my friend and I were studying at her place (about 15 miles outside the Hach) and we found ourselves without a book we desperately needed while her parents were out. So, we did what any geeks would do, and borrowed the car (the 1988-ish Dodge Ram - we could barely see over the giant steering wheel), so we could make the half hour round trip into town and retrieve the essential study materials. It was relatively uneventful, except that my friend canNOT drive (note, I did not say could not drive) and we found ourselves screaming and shrieking every time someone so much as changed lanes around us. We returned, unharmed and our disappearance undiscovered, but had a helluva time trying to parallel park it back into position - I remember something of around 54 iterations of back and forth, in and out, give up, start over, back and forth, etc., all the while dripping with perspiration because her parents would return while we were parking The Ram, or that they would remember the exact location (within inches) that it had been when they left. I am absolutely certain that the parking of the car took three times longer than the retrieval of the study material.

Because of this, I am all the more impressed by this little guy...

All is Not Lost!!

You can TOTALLY hear me on the sound clip of the shake table!! I'm the one narrating the collapse of the lego buildings and telling all the kids they can't build anything worth crap!

The Fame that Almost Was ...

So Saturday, we got up extra* early to sludge through our morning run (first day for good weather!!) so that we could both get showered and cleaned in time to be at the St. Louis Science Center by 9:30 a.m. I know that by saying this next part I will be complete geek in the truest sense of the word rivaling only that of 8th grade math camp attendees (sorry, Al!), but the Science Center here is the COOLEST PLACE EVER! However, why get up before the rooster crow and then rush in a state of complete panic for forty five minutes to go the Science Center when it is open all day (and late on Fridays :-) )? It was, of course, the culminating event for Earthquake Awareness Week 2005!!

Oh yes! They happen here! And I wasn't the only one interested in making the public aware... because, you see, after one of my clever explanations on the wonders that are instructional shake tables, I was face to face with what appeared to be a fancy pants tape recorder and a real microphone!! She didn't really ask me if I wanted to be interviewed so much as just asked me little questions about my toy (and who am I to deny her?), she said some call letters for a radio station, and although it did sound familiar, I more than a little nervous since I never could quite shake the thought that if I say something wrong my desk will be packed up for my come Monday morning. Before I knew what was happening, I was in the middle of a full blown interview and I muddled through my schpeel trying not to sound like I was fresh out of school, doing a moderate job keeping my ums and uhs to a minimum, and reminding myself to slow down and breathe. I truly have no idea why I was so flustered ... there was just something familiar ... about ... those ... call letters ... ... ...

Holy crap I just got interviewed by NPR!!

In case, I haven't mentioned it before, I am 26, a Cancer, and an NPR addict. Once I realized that the interviewer was from NPR I shamefully exclaimed - OHMYGODILISTENTONPRLIKEEVERYDAY! IAMSOSOSERIOUSOHMYGOD!! That MIGHT have been what prevented my interview from actually appearing on NPR this morning.

I so thought I would be able to maintain my cool in front of celebrities** but apparently, no.


* Ahem. And I mean it. 5:45 in the ante meridian.
** Yes, I know I'm the only one that considers NPR reporters celebrities. Please don't ever let me be face to face with John Cusack. I am so very afraid of how I will humiliate my family.

I think it's about time for a countdown to begin!!

Soon, I will be trading in my shallow midwest roots to make way fer sum suthin wuns - hoorah! - but in order to do this, I will need to [gasp!] QUIT MY JOB!!!!

I have already given notice to my employer - I think I actually did that mid Fall 2004 (yea, i'm a tad enthused). So my last day at my current employment will be April 29th, 2005. Thus begineth the countdowneth.

84 DAYS REMAINING

(sadly, The Dais is moving to The New Land in 13 days and the rest of my time here will be without her. sniff.)

Thought for the Week

Quote, whatever, all the same.

If you don't know what show this is from, chances are, we aren't friends anyway...

Miranda: They're starting to die on us.
Charlotte: Oh my god.
Samantha: Well at least you weren't stood up.
Miranda: 35 and they're dying. We should just give up now.
Carrie: Well, on the bright side, this could explain why
they don't call back.
Samantha: Hmm.
Charlotte: How did he... ?
Miranda: Heart attack.
Samantha: Oh.
Miranda: At the gym.
Carrie: See, this is why I don't work out.

I should take a hint. Good God my knee hurts....

My Fairy Godmother Hates Me

There is an endless supply of evil, evil yumminess here.

You see, we have this awesome little perk here, if only you can eat twice your weight in ice cream every day and maintain a size zero. One of the worst parts is that someone here that fits into that category. I will consider it no small success if I can bide my time here and maintain my current weight class.

I know that lots of workplaces have dainty little candy dishes with little mints or maybe even really cool ones with Peanut M&Ms or Hershey's Kisses. Rubbish. That's the unwanted-ness that lingers in the bottom of our cornucopia of desire. It's ALL there - the Snickers, the KitKats, Twix, Butterfingers, Almond Joy, Reeces of every shape and size, all varieties of the once classic Hershey now stuffed with various nuts, krispies, white, dark - IT'S THERE! ALL THE TIME! And if you are thinking to yourself, I'm not a big chocolate fan - I could hold out, they've still got your number with the Taffy or Dots or Mike&Ikes or Gobstoppers - the list goes on and on! The torment continues with the every variety of lemon/lime/cherry/vanilla/original Coca Cola Sodas or root beer or tea or juice. Does this madness have an end, you ask? Actually no! Just a few weeks ago the Evil Fairy began stocking the breakroom with every form of Lays, Ruffles, Doritos, and Cheetos in the original/baked variety, alongside chewy/hard granola, goldfish, krispie treats, Little Debbie Snacks, Tollhouse Cookies ... and then ... you know what she did? what that little devil did????? She put OREOS.

If only they would charge me - even a dime - for any of this, my unabashed sense of cheapness combined with my feeble willpower MIGHT keep my hand out of the cookie jar but for crying out loud! Stop already!

As it is, I just try and take it a day at a time. Right about the time I just know I've got it under control, I find myself discarding the wrappings of an Oatmeal Cream Pie and wiping the crumbs from my shirt. Sigh.

oh the guilt that must have been!!

Poor granny!

I had a "friend" that might have once cheated on a high school English test. I wonder how "she's" dealing with it.

I swear to God, Mrs. Ballard - it wasn't me!!!

Supermodel Extraordinaire

You Know You Love Me
Originally uploaded by missyajg.

Friends, I bring you - The Dais.

Tell me that every square inch of your body didn't just completely melt away. This, my friends, is Ms. Daisy and she is The. Cutest. Kitty. Of. All. Time.

Ain't nobody dat cuddles like da Dais. Sorry Dr. J.

This one's from Mom

Turn on your volume first ...

Going to Work Monday

then ...

Going Home on Friday!!

Times - they are a-changin'

In case any of you haven't checked out my current favorite website, it's time to take a peek. It's one thing to sit by and let Those That Do Not Live In The Real World scantily clad themselves in public places, but it is quite another for THIS to become available for the common everyday prom-go-er.

I want to know the following,

Ladies -

1) Whose dad would have let them even think about wearing that in high school?

2) Even if you had Halle Barry's body, would you wear this now? Anywhere?

Gents -

What would you honestly think if your date showed up in that?

Mardi-Bowl

Has anyone else noticed that you are gonna have to eat a King Cake at your superbowl party this year? Ms. Jacksons little stunt would have been much more appropriate for the 2005 calendar year.

You get what you pay for

So last night, I partook in one of my two Free Personal Training Sessions at my gym (herein referred to as Fold's Fym). It was, by all accounts, an enormous disappointment. The trainer was 15 minutes late (and apparently included that fifteen minutes in the one-hour session), didn't speak to me once beyond giving me his horribly lacking description of whatever motion I was supposed to be doing with which miniscule flourescent colored free-weight, and at 25 minutes into it (40 minutes if you count the 15 minutes it took him to find his way there), he turned and said something to the effect of "that's it!" and trotted off to go hang with a fellow loitering Trainer. Mucho disappointing-o.

So today, I am moderately sore - not so much more than I would have been from a hard day of dusting and scrubbing the bathrooms. Do I call and complain to Fold's and request that for my Second Free Personal Training Session to have someone more challenging? Or is just to have someone there adequate? Would I be setting myself up for a bootcamp-esque experience that would rob me of the ability to even use the T.V. remote control for three days? Or do I simply accept that I am actually in such spectacularly great shape that this trainer-to-the-stars was dumbfounded and unable to conjure up a task challenging enough for my very able self?