So I suppose it's my fault, really. I've slacked off on the frequency of my posts, so presumably people have slacked off on reading them. Of course, it's hard to tell...but I've noticed a decided decrease in the number of comments showing up on my blog, and that makes me sad. I like it when people comment. Please do it.
Today one of my co-workers made up a song about me and sang it, while playing a toy guitar. It wasn't very good, but he did make me laugh and that always is worth a few points. And it even rhymed at the end, which was kind of impressive for an off-the-cuff production.
Granted, the song was mostly mocking me for my lack of sales skills, but I guess I'll take what I can get in the serenade department.
I am nearly falling asleep writing this, as I was at work til about 11:15pm last night, so I wouldn't be surprised to hear that I'm not making a whole lot of sense. Humor me.
On a totally unrelated note (are there any other kinds of notes on this blog?), I am watching Four Weddings and a Funeral. I don't understand why Andie MacDowell's character is so alluring in this film. So it's a bit hard for me to get caught up in the drama and romance of her back-and-forth relationship with the ever-blinking, eyelid-fluttering Hugh Grant. Too bad, because it seems like it might have been kind of entertaining otherwise. At least John Hannah is in it. I like his accent.
There really isn't anything else I'd like to say at the moment. I'm wracking my brains, but there is nothing left. Until the next time...
Thursday, March 24, 2005
Feelin' Minnesota
I bought a ticket to Minnesota next week.
That is, I bought a ticket yesterday that will get me to Minnesota next week. Geez, the English language can be so confusing if you don't wield it properly.
Anyway, don't worry, I'm not staying there. As tempting as it is to just pick up and hightail it out of LA to somewhere else, Minnesota probably wouldn't be first on my list of places to hightail it to. I don't handle cold very well, and I hear from reliable sources that Minnesota is cold. Very cold, in fact. Too cold for this California chick.
I do like the name Minnesota, though. I especially like saying it with that funny Fargo accent. You know, like this: "Minne-SOOOO-ta," where the SOOOO part sounds like you are almost trying to swallow your tongue at the same time. Try it! (Saying Minne-SOOOO-ta, I mean, not swallowing your tongue.)
So anyway, why am I going? Well, a friend of mine is getting married, and ever since I got news of her engagement, I knew I was meant to be there when she got married. I might not have thought that if she'd decided to have the wedding in, say, South America (which is where she got engaged), but Minnesota isn't too bad. And I don't usually feel that strongly about being at a wedding, so since I did this time, I thought I'd better listen to myself.
I like weddings, even though I am nearing 30 while still single and as such I am probably supposed to be bitter and hate them. I don't though. I wish I got invited to more of them (although my bank account is quite relieved that I don't), and while I admit that I hope to be the actual guest of honor one of these days (i.e., the bride), it's not such a bad thing to be in the audience cheering on a couple of people who have decided that love is a calling in and of itself that is worth following--the call to love and cherish another person for the rest of their lives.
I think that's pretty awesome, don't you?
That is, I bought a ticket yesterday that will get me to Minnesota next week. Geez, the English language can be so confusing if you don't wield it properly.
Anyway, don't worry, I'm not staying there. As tempting as it is to just pick up and hightail it out of LA to somewhere else, Minnesota probably wouldn't be first on my list of places to hightail it to. I don't handle cold very well, and I hear from reliable sources that Minnesota is cold. Very cold, in fact. Too cold for this California chick.
I do like the name Minnesota, though. I especially like saying it with that funny Fargo accent. You know, like this: "Minne-SOOOO-ta," where the SOOOO part sounds like you are almost trying to swallow your tongue at the same time. Try it! (Saying Minne-SOOOO-ta, I mean, not swallowing your tongue.)
So anyway, why am I going? Well, a friend of mine is getting married, and ever since I got news of her engagement, I knew I was meant to be there when she got married. I might not have thought that if she'd decided to have the wedding in, say, South America (which is where she got engaged), but Minnesota isn't too bad. And I don't usually feel that strongly about being at a wedding, so since I did this time, I thought I'd better listen to myself.
I like weddings, even though I am nearing 30 while still single and as such I am probably supposed to be bitter and hate them. I don't though. I wish I got invited to more of them (although my bank account is quite relieved that I don't), and while I admit that I hope to be the actual guest of honor one of these days (i.e., the bride), it's not such a bad thing to be in the audience cheering on a couple of people who have decided that love is a calling in and of itself that is worth following--the call to love and cherish another person for the rest of their lives.
I think that's pretty awesome, don't you?
Monday, March 21, 2005
Take A Bite Out of Reality
A beautiful day today...did a bit of trail running near my house, but I am very out of shape and nearly died. Ok, I exaggerated there just a little, but I did have to use my asthma inhaler about a billion times. Ok, ok...more like four times. That's still a lot!
The POINT is, it was absolutely gorgeous out and I was entirely grateful that I do not, in fact, have a full-time job that would have prevented me from enjoying it.
Apropos of nothing in particular, I am watching the movie Deep Blue Sea at the moment. It is not terribly good. More like just plain terrible, really. But I have to say, it makes Jaws look pretty plain and tame. I mean, how many people get eaten in Jaws?** Like three? I think about 10 people die in this flick, killed directly or indirectly by massive mutant sharks with the brain power of, I don't know, but something very very smart. Smarter than the people in the film, in fact, who just can't seem to stop getting eaten left and right. Even a HELICOPTER succumbs to the cunning ferocity of the sharks!!
But my favorite bit is when one of the mutant sharks uses the body of a guy to break the glass enclosure of the underwater lab, and it did it like this: It swam fast toward the glass window, the guy in its mouth, and then when it was about 20 feet away, it THREW the guy THROUGH THE WATER with enough force that he hit the glass and broke it!!! Amazing, truly amazing, especially when you take into account things like friction, and other matters of underwater physics that I (lowly English major that I am) really have no ability to discuss in anything approaching an intelligent manner.
Anyway, that scene makes me nearly laugh out loud every time. Er, not that I've seen this more than once, or anything...ahem...
The only redeeming feature in this movie is (and this might be a sad commentary in itself): LL Cool J. I know, I know. I SAID it was sad, didn't I?
I really need to get a life.
**Consider this a trivia question. Who knows the answer??
The POINT is, it was absolutely gorgeous out and I was entirely grateful that I do not, in fact, have a full-time job that would have prevented me from enjoying it.
Apropos of nothing in particular, I am watching the movie Deep Blue Sea at the moment. It is not terribly good. More like just plain terrible, really. But I have to say, it makes Jaws look pretty plain and tame. I mean, how many people get eaten in Jaws?** Like three? I think about 10 people die in this flick, killed directly or indirectly by massive mutant sharks with the brain power of, I don't know, but something very very smart. Smarter than the people in the film, in fact, who just can't seem to stop getting eaten left and right. Even a HELICOPTER succumbs to the cunning ferocity of the sharks!!
But my favorite bit is when one of the mutant sharks uses the body of a guy to break the glass enclosure of the underwater lab, and it did it like this: It swam fast toward the glass window, the guy in its mouth, and then when it was about 20 feet away, it THREW the guy THROUGH THE WATER with enough force that he hit the glass and broke it!!! Amazing, truly amazing, especially when you take into account things like friction, and other matters of underwater physics that I (lowly English major that I am) really have no ability to discuss in anything approaching an intelligent manner.
Anyway, that scene makes me nearly laugh out loud every time. Er, not that I've seen this more than once, or anything...ahem...
The only redeeming feature in this movie is (and this might be a sad commentary in itself): LL Cool J. I know, I know. I SAID it was sad, didn't I?
I really need to get a life.
**Consider this a trivia question. Who knows the answer??
Saturday, March 19, 2005
Long Day
I should say, long week. Because that's what it's been. Long and difficult.
I said goodbye to the cowgirl on Friday. She'll be back for Easter, but it's definitely weird not having her around. The dog misses her too. The day she left it was raining, and I saw him sitting on the driveway, staring at the open gate. He was soaking wet, but didn't seem to notice. She's left before for days at a time, but he seemed to sense that this time was different.
She will take him away after Easter, and then I really don't know what I'll do.
I said goodbye to the cowgirl on Friday. She'll be back for Easter, but it's definitely weird not having her around. The dog misses her too. The day she left it was raining, and I saw him sitting on the driveway, staring at the open gate. He was soaking wet, but didn't seem to notice. She's left before for days at a time, but he seemed to sense that this time was different.
She will take him away after Easter, and then I really don't know what I'll do.
Friday, March 11, 2005
Laziness and Mansquito
I've been horribly slack in keeping up with my frogg files lately, many apologies.
It's not like I even have the excuse of being busy. I work part-time, and on my off hours I am usually slacking off with amazing proficiency. It's nice to know that I'm good at something, even if it's being as lazy as a cat.
However, I am also quite good at vaccuuming. I hate it, but I'm pretty good at it.
Apropos of nothing in particular, I saw a commercial today for a made-for-tv movie called "Mansquito": apparently about a man who mutates into a giant mosquito or something due to a lab accident (of course). A real winner, it sounds like to me. The title alone is...compelling.
Compelling me to puke, that is.
Who comes up with the ideas for these kinds of movies? Why are made-for-tv movies almost always bad? Has anyone ever actually seen one that was good? I ask you.
It's not like I even have the excuse of being busy. I work part-time, and on my off hours I am usually slacking off with amazing proficiency. It's nice to know that I'm good at something, even if it's being as lazy as a cat.
However, I am also quite good at vaccuuming. I hate it, but I'm pretty good at it.
Apropos of nothing in particular, I saw a commercial today for a made-for-tv movie called "Mansquito": apparently about a man who mutates into a giant mosquito or something due to a lab accident (of course). A real winner, it sounds like to me. The title alone is...compelling.
Compelling me to puke, that is.
Who comes up with the ideas for these kinds of movies? Why are made-for-tv movies almost always bad? Has anyone ever actually seen one that was good? I ask you.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Just Call Me Doctor Frogg
The cowgirl called me this morning. "Can you do me a favor?" she asked.
"uuhgruh," I said. (I was still in bed.)
"I forgot to give my dog his medicine," she said, ignoring my groans that were meant to signal my desire to stay in bed. "Can you give it to him?"
"I don't know how to give medicine to a dog!" I said, with a remarkable return to coherence.
"It's easy," she said, "You just blah blah blah..." Of course, she didn't say "blah blah blah" but that's mostly what I heard, because I was still in bed, and even though my verbal skills had kicked in, my listening skills were still way behind.
So I said ok when she was done talking, hung up, and went downstairs, where I gave shrieking Leo my routine threats of death and dismemberment if he wouldn't shut up (which he didn't), before picking up the medicine bottles and heading outside. The dog came bounding up to me full of trust and hope that I had come outside to play fetch with him. He was not too pleased when it became clear that a game of fetch, or anything else for that matter, was not on the cards. Instead, he got his jaws forced open, a hand shoved into his mouth, and a big red pill dropped down his throat. This wasn't nearly as much fun for him, I gathered. He made this abundantly clear by clamping his mouth tightly shut and refusing to take the second pill. We had a bit of a struggle over that one, but I eventually won the day. Afterwards I gave him a dog biscuit, and he was happy again.
That's what I like about dogs. They just never stop loving you, even when you do things to them that they really don't like.
I'm going to miss Indy when the cowgirl moves out and takes him away to her new digs. Of course, I'll miss the cowgirl too.
"uuhgruh," I said. (I was still in bed.)
"I forgot to give my dog his medicine," she said, ignoring my groans that were meant to signal my desire to stay in bed. "Can you give it to him?"
"I don't know how to give medicine to a dog!" I said, with a remarkable return to coherence.
"It's easy," she said, "You just blah blah blah..." Of course, she didn't say "blah blah blah" but that's mostly what I heard, because I was still in bed, and even though my verbal skills had kicked in, my listening skills were still way behind.
So I said ok when she was done talking, hung up, and went downstairs, where I gave shrieking Leo my routine threats of death and dismemberment if he wouldn't shut up (which he didn't), before picking up the medicine bottles and heading outside. The dog came bounding up to me full of trust and hope that I had come outside to play fetch with him. He was not too pleased when it became clear that a game of fetch, or anything else for that matter, was not on the cards. Instead, he got his jaws forced open, a hand shoved into his mouth, and a big red pill dropped down his throat. This wasn't nearly as much fun for him, I gathered. He made this abundantly clear by clamping his mouth tightly shut and refusing to take the second pill. We had a bit of a struggle over that one, but I eventually won the day. Afterwards I gave him a dog biscuit, and he was happy again.
That's what I like about dogs. They just never stop loving you, even when you do things to them that they really don't like.
I'm going to miss Indy when the cowgirl moves out and takes him away to her new digs. Of course, I'll miss the cowgirl too.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
Car Trouble
So the other night I rear-ended a car. No, I'm sorry, that's not entirely accurate. I rear-ended TWO cars. In the space of five minutes. I am not a happy camper.
Ok, this is going to be the first and last time that I ever confess this, so listen up: I am not a particularly good driver. Ok? It's not that I don't know how to drive, or that I don't have plenty of experience. I just tend to get a bit...well, absent-minded I guess is the only word for it. It's especially bad if I am driving somewhere scenic. For example, as I was driving along a back highway out to 580 last week on my way back to Los Angeles, there was this amazing view in the distance of windmills spinning on the far green hills, under gray skies. It was MUCH more interesting to look over there ("there" being "off to my right") rather than anywhere more conventional, like, say, in front of me.
In New Zealand I was even worse. If anyone ever drove with me, I think they would have been petrified, but thankfully I did most of my long-distance driving alone. I'd zip along the winding country roads, leaning forward with my arms hugging the steering wheel so I could gaze upwards at gorgeous sunsets, or perhaps a flock of birds flying, or rising, rugged mountains. Again, the road directly in front of me had a terrible time keeping my attention.
I have had more near-misses than anyone has a right to deserve, I think. And Friday night I had to pay up, I guess.
I didn't have the excuse of gorgeous scenery that time, because I was driving to Hollywood and there is nothing to see along the way but a forest of taillights in the concrete jungle. Traffic was terrible. I was going about 2 miles an hour when I thought I felt an ant crawling on me. This sounds weird, but in fact I had found an ant on me while driving a few days before (which actually is weird in itself, hmmm). So I pulled down my mirror and was trying to check things out when suddenly I realized I had tapped the bumper of the car in front of me.
Thankfully there was no damage to either car and we both decided to just go on our way. I thanked God, shook my head at my idiocy, and got back in the car. Five minutes later (please don't ask me how I could possibly do this, because I honestly don't know), I jammed myself up against the very unforgiving tail of a huge truck. It didn't feel a thing, but oh, my poor little Honda did.
I should say, my SISTER'S poor Honda, because it's not even mine. The layers of irony in this tale are almost too numerous to, well, enumerate, but suffice to say my sister the globetrotter, who is currently in Portugal, lent the car to a friend in the Bay Area who rear-ended someone, and got it fixed in a most haphazard fashion. I have been trying to sort out getting the thing fixed properly with compensation from the friend when what do I do but go and ram another car, causing even more damage and pretty much nullifying my chances of getting the friend to pitch in anything further, because now the damage is MY fault!! Gah!!!!
Funny old thing, life. It would be a lot funnier if my insurance wouldn't DOUBLE if I go through them fix it. But it would, or very nearly. Which means I have to start making the round of the body shops. Which means there goes my paycheck for probably the next two months. Ha ha! Look, I'm laughing at how funny life is! HAHAHAHAHA!
*sigh*
(Actually, I did crack myself up there at the end. Sometimes I am so weird. Admit it, that's why you love me,)
Ok, this is going to be the first and last time that I ever confess this, so listen up: I am not a particularly good driver. Ok? It's not that I don't know how to drive, or that I don't have plenty of experience. I just tend to get a bit...well, absent-minded I guess is the only word for it. It's especially bad if I am driving somewhere scenic. For example, as I was driving along a back highway out to 580 last week on my way back to Los Angeles, there was this amazing view in the distance of windmills spinning on the far green hills, under gray skies. It was MUCH more interesting to look over there ("there" being "off to my right") rather than anywhere more conventional, like, say, in front of me.
In New Zealand I was even worse. If anyone ever drove with me, I think they would have been petrified, but thankfully I did most of my long-distance driving alone. I'd zip along the winding country roads, leaning forward with my arms hugging the steering wheel so I could gaze upwards at gorgeous sunsets, or perhaps a flock of birds flying, or rising, rugged mountains. Again, the road directly in front of me had a terrible time keeping my attention.
I have had more near-misses than anyone has a right to deserve, I think. And Friday night I had to pay up, I guess.
I didn't have the excuse of gorgeous scenery that time, because I was driving to Hollywood and there is nothing to see along the way but a forest of taillights in the concrete jungle. Traffic was terrible. I was going about 2 miles an hour when I thought I felt an ant crawling on me. This sounds weird, but in fact I had found an ant on me while driving a few days before (which actually is weird in itself, hmmm). So I pulled down my mirror and was trying to check things out when suddenly I realized I had tapped the bumper of the car in front of me.
Thankfully there was no damage to either car and we both decided to just go on our way. I thanked God, shook my head at my idiocy, and got back in the car. Five minutes later (please don't ask me how I could possibly do this, because I honestly don't know), I jammed myself up against the very unforgiving tail of a huge truck. It didn't feel a thing, but oh, my poor little Honda did.
I should say, my SISTER'S poor Honda, because it's not even mine. The layers of irony in this tale are almost too numerous to, well, enumerate, but suffice to say my sister the globetrotter, who is currently in Portugal, lent the car to a friend in the Bay Area who rear-ended someone, and got it fixed in a most haphazard fashion. I have been trying to sort out getting the thing fixed properly with compensation from the friend when what do I do but go and ram another car, causing even more damage and pretty much nullifying my chances of getting the friend to pitch in anything further, because now the damage is MY fault!! Gah!!!!
Funny old thing, life. It would be a lot funnier if my insurance wouldn't DOUBLE if I go through them fix it. But it would, or very nearly. Which means I have to start making the round of the body shops. Which means there goes my paycheck for probably the next two months. Ha ha! Look, I'm laughing at how funny life is! HAHAHAHAHA!
*sigh*
(Actually, I did crack myself up there at the end. Sometimes I am so weird. Admit it, that's why you love me,)
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