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?