I smell like a monkey, and I act like one, too

Today is the day. I am now officially 32. But I've already had two people tell me I don't look 32, so that was fabulous. Of course, they also both mentioned that I don't act 32 either, but I'm still going to take that as a compliment. Heh. J's birthday present to me is getting a remote starter installed in my car. I tried to convince him that emeralds are just as practical as a car starter, but he didn't seem to go for it. Men. But he's taking me out to dinner tonight, and I fully intend to drag him into a store to buy me a necklace after dessert. That's how I roll.

And the boss is back. She brought in croissants to soften us up, I think. But no amount of pastry will get me to lower my defenses. I will not fall for the old Trojan scone trick!

I'm sorry I ruined your Black Panther party

I am so sick of politics right now. I wish we could somehow trick Congress into fleeing the Capitol building and then sneak in there and pass a law that bans Congressional campaign commercials. They're all just so cliched and mean and an utter waste of time. And, for the life of me, I cannot figure out why the media is reporting about this fight Clinton and Bush/Rice are having about who started what regarding Bin Laden, Iraq and terrorism. Who cares?? This is the sort of non-issue that distracts people from the real problems and is really only the concern of Washington pollsters. Sometimes I'm tempted to wipe out our political system and switch to a pacifist oligarchy...you know, let the hippies run the country for a while. Think of it: we'd probably all be driving unreliable hydrogen cars, we'd have great maternity leave and Jimmy Choos would be banned and sold on the black market.

And it's down to 24 hours before the boss gets back. Defcon 1.5. Argh!

The hunter has become the hunter

I watched that show Heroes last night. By far, my favorite character is the Japanese teleporter, closely followed by the indestructible cheerleader. Frankly, I don't think painting future disasters sounds like a good superpower at all. Not only is it depressing, but if the supervillain comes after you, you don't really have a lot of defenses. You can't just throw an easel at Magneto and hope to live, that's all I'm saying. I don't know if I'll actually watch that show every week, but I do enjoy superhero stories, so I'll try. And I'll say right here, right now that that Milo Ventigmigjisgisalia's head is disproportionately large for his body. It bugged me on Gilmore Girls, and it's bugging me here.

48 hours and counting until my boss comes back from China. We're at Defcon 2, people.

I wish I smelled toast

I've got to stop writing these posts during that period after a night of insomnia after I wake up and before I have my coffee, because all I want to do is write about how tired I am and how I can't figure out if these pants are brown or olive. But I shall not! I will be strong.

...so now I can't think about anything besides how if these pants are olive, I'm wearing the completely wrong jacket today. Dang it. I'm so easily sidetracked!

Did anybody watch American Dad last night? There was a whole bit in there about this golden treasure in the shape of a pile of poo, and I cannot for the life of me figure out what that was about. Sometimes I watch that lineup of animated shows on Fox Sundays, and I feel drunk by the end of it even though I haven't had a drop of alcohol in weeks. That never happens when I watch 60 Minutes.

Now I have two toasters

Oh, man, The Office had me cracking up last night. The "gaydar" from Sharper Image, Michael and Oscar's kiss, the "we're all homos" speech, man, I love that show. J digitally taped it, too, so I'll probably end up watching it again in the next couple days. I do not want to miss anything! I shall watch it with a fine-toothed comb!

This coming weekend is the weekend of birthday parties. We've got one on Saturday and one on Sunday, but I am extremely distressed to find out that the party tomorrow is at the same time as the Ohio State vs. Penn State game. Nooooooo! And since I don't know these inlaws that well, I won't feel comfortable forcing them to turn the game on during the party like I do with J's oldest brother's family. They're some of the nicest people I've ever met, but they seemed surprised last fall when I started coming to parties and asked if we could watch Ohio State games. Apparently, I don't look like a fan. Maybe tomorrow I should just show up at this party wearing a Buckeyes jersey, with my face painted scarlet and gray, wearing my big, red foam finger and let that do the talking for me. That might work....

Fore!

J and I were discussing this morning that situation at the Ryder Cup where Tiger Woods is upset that an Irish publication is linking his wife to pornographic websites when it's apparently completely fabricated. And this got us thinking that, although Mrs. Woods is quite gorgeous, there are not a lot of male golfers that we'd like to see with their clothes off. I think Tiger would probably do ok as a nude model because he at least works out. But if Colin Montgomerie ever decides to do a calendar, I'm not buying it. He could give them away, and I still wouldn't take it. More than any other athlete besides a professional bowler, golfers can get away with eating a lot of muffins, and that's just not going to get them into Playgirl. There. I said it.

The Grinch Who Stole Labor Day

I'm back to wearing contacts today and so far, my eyes don't feel like they're being rubbed with sandpaper. Nice.

Woke up this morning and saw that the temperature was 49 degrees outside, but it didn't really sink in until I went into the kitchen (where we'd left the windows open overnight) and I couldn't feel my fingers. It's becoming fall, people. I'm sure I've mentioned this numerous times, but I just love fall. Football, apple cider, corduroy, leaves turning orange...it's splendiferous. I will say, however, that I still think it's a tad too early to be putting up Christmas displays in stores. The Walmart by us had Christmas yard decorations up on Labor Day. LABOR DAY. I love Christmastime, too, but, for me, it takes a little of the anticipatory fun out of it when you start celebrating in September. But maybe that's just me.

Blind as a bat, wily like a fox

You know what? I just realized I didn't watch tv at all last night. I'm so cold.

I've had to wear my glasses the last couple days because the cornea in my left eye got scratched up. It's been interesting because I'm extremely near-sighted, so the glasses are kind of thick and when I take them off, I can see approximately one centimeter in front of my face, then it all just becomes one great, big blur. I was at the gym last night, and I took off my glasses when I started sweating, so I was noticing a lot of interesting things about the gym that I never noticed before (back when I could see, you know, details). For one thing, tv is really, really colorful. It's full of intense blues, reds and yellows. And you may not notice this when you can actually see edges, but most of our environment is formed in geometric shapes like rectangles and triangles. And you sighted people probably don't realize this, but people look kind of silly running on treadmills with their limbs flailing about. It's true.

Shaky Premise

We went to Dayton on Saturday for a day in the park with my Mom, sisters, brothers-in-law and nephews. Nephews #2 and #3 are both about 2 and a half now, so they can go from sparkling clean to filthy as a Turkish prison in about 3 seconds flat. I was really amazed by just how dirty they were by the time we left. They were wet and muddy from playing in a water fountain, covered in mulch chips and their hands looked like they just laid tar. Of course, they were still absolutely adorable. Nephews #5 and #6 (who are both around 4 months old now) were also there and looking around like this was all news to them. Babies that age are cute but in a different way than the toddlers. The babies are very sweet, but, unlike the toddlers, they don't know how to say "fart" yet. Which is good and bad, really.

Happy Birthday, Mom!

Belgian Dip

I had to go to the grocery store last night after working out because we needed some actual essentials like bread and milk. Generally, I try not to go to that Kroger by myself at night because it's a trifle sketchy, so I get all paranoid, and I end up skittering through the aisles, clutching my purse and having my keys ready to poke would-be attackers' eyes out. And because I'm so worried, I always forget something. So it's just easier to go during the day. But I noticed last night that I'm guessing a good 40-45% of the people there were high (and, yes, I'm including the workers in that figure). I was in the self-checkout line, and it seemed as though half the people were only buying frozen pizzas, bags of Doritos and glazed donuts. Drugs are such a boon for the snack food industry. You know, if I were a Dr. Evil-type person, I'd buy a ton of stock in Snickers and then put THC in the water supply. You could definitely make enough money to take over the world doing that...not that I ever would..heh heh.

A crumpet would be lovely, thank you

I know I say this all the time, but today might be the day that my body is finally actually falling apart. My left eye is irritated, I have a sore throat and my left foot is getting these random shooting pains in it every once in a while. Add to this the fact that I didn't get to sleep very much last night (partially due to the shooting foot pains...jerks), and the result is that I am in an exceptionally foul mood this morning. It's days like this that make me wish I lived in Victorian Europe, when a woman who was in a foul temper could just lock herself in her bedroom, lie there in lace gowns and demand tea from her maid all day and all she had to do was tell people she was "unwell" and she'd be left alone. Unfortunately, if I tried that now, I would have to take a sick day, I don't have a maid to bring me tea, and the Wubby J. would still sit by the bed and stare at me until I fed him. And, really, lace is itchy, so I guess it's not worth it anyhow. Sigh. Can't I just once say I have the vapors and people feel sorry for me? Just once?

Generation X-Box

I went to the Bureau of Motor Vehicles first thing this morning to get my driver's license renewed. All in all, it was an amazingly smooth experience. The counter lady was nice, I didn't have to wait, and my picture turned out ok. I look a little fuzzy and yellow, but I'll take that over being cross-eyed with a big cowlick any day. When I was leaving, I was in front of this big dude, so I sort of held the door open behind me so it wouldn't close on him, and so he says "You should have let me go in front of you so I could open the door" and I replied "It's cool, this helps me build up my arm muscles" (I am such a comedian), and then he says "But gentlemen hold the doors for ladies." I had no response to that. I didn't know people actually still felt like that anymore. Most of the time, dudes just let the door slam me in the face. This is what I get for working at a college. The kids here are usually pretty nice, but I will say that they're not exactly adherents to Miss Manner's advice. I really think it's just the age and not that they're cretins or anything. But I've been smacked with enough bookbags that I just don't expect great courtesy anymore. The kids these days.

Did anybody ever tell you your last name is an adverb?

J and I were discussing yesterday how he's come down with a rare, unique affliction: road-related Tourette's syndrome. I swear, most of the time J is a pretty happy-go-lucky kind of guy who can find humor in almost all situations. But you put him behind the wheel of a car, send him off into rush hour traffic, and a string of profanities will spew forth from him like nothing I've ever heard. We'll be driving into work in the morning, I'm still half-asleep, and he's sitting beside me saying things like "I have to reboot all the printers @#%* sucker mother %#@)* son of a @#%^*( monkey @#%!'s ^$@#*" And I just stare at him, stunned. You know, the quicker scientists can come up with a way to beam us all where we want to go instead of having to travel, I think the better off and less cursing we will be as a society. Get to work on that, you MIT kids! I have faith in you!

I missed the bus, they missed the bus, when's the next bus?

Ahh, that was a satisfying win the Buckeyes had over Texas on Saturday. We ended up going to the house of a couple J knows, so I didn't get to camp out on the couch, but it was probably more fun this way. The man had set up a projector in his backyard, so we were out there with a bunch of drunk, rabid Ohio State fans. They were even pretty pleasant until a guy showed up wearing a Michigan tshirt. Why, dude, why? He would randomly yell "I hate Ohio State!" so the other guys started taunting him and eventually banished him to sitting on the wall near the back of the yard. That's what you get, dude. I get the feeling he's the kind of guy who would wear a Confederate flag tshirt and walk through Harlem. Not a good idea.

And I think I'm going to try to avoid as much of the 9/11 coverage today as I can. It's still too sad. Back when it happened, I remember turning on the tv and seeing a father wandering around the streets of New York with a poster of his daughter, tearfully asking everyone he saw if they had seen her. Heartbreaking.

1.21 jigowatts!

J told me last night that he's working on getting us (but really me) a digital video recorder for the tv! Whoo! Of course, he won't just go out and buy a Tivo or a system that you buy out of a box. He's been doing research online and has found these systems where you buy all the computer parts, set up Linux programs and somehow all that will allow us to record tv shows on the computer. I have no idea how that works, but I'm hoping I can just put a penny in a lemon, flip a switch and be able to watch Browns games whenever I want and skip through the commercials. It's so funny watching him work on this though...he reminds me of a crazed scientist, bent over a table full of petri dishes and test tubes, cackling wildly and shooting sparks out of his fingers.

Tomorrow night is the OSU vs. Texas game on tv. I'm on that like white on rice. I've even already got a snack menu and position on the couch planned out. Go Buckeyes!

I categorically deny all the charges

I am not at all sad that Vincent got kicked off Project Runway last night. That dude creeped me out with how he kept saying "it gets me off." Gah. That is something I do not ever want to see, Vincent. And it bothered me how he kept avoiding people's direct questions about his dress. Like when Heidi asked "How much hand sewing did you do?" and he starts talking about his fabric choice. Perhaps that was editing, but he seemed to do that to the French designer, too. You know, I just realized that's yet another pet peeve of mine (when people don't answer direct questions). Happens all the time on news shows where a reporter asks a straightforward question like "Will you vote for tax cuts for the wealthy?" and some bozo politician is like "Bill, what's important to me is family. I'm about family. I'm about America and protecting Americans. We need to strengthen America and protect our freedoms." Whuh? How do these people get elected when they're obviously functionally retarded? Football players tend to do that in interviews, too, but I'm more willing to cut them some slack since they're not pretending to be Rhodes Scholars. The standard athlete response to any question is usually "I just wanted to come out here and play, and that's what we did. I'm happy I could help my team, and right now we're just focusing on our next opponent." Watch for it.

Truly, you have a dizzying intellect

I saw those pictures of Suri Cruise this morning, and at first I was confused because they had been talking about the Princess of Japan giving birth to a boy, and I was thinking "Why is Tom Cruise holding the new Japanese prince?" Although, really, the more I looked at her picture, she does look a lot like Tom...but a little bit like Tom's character in The Last Samurai had a baby with his Japanese girlfriend, not Katie Holmes. Genetics are interesting. I'm still trying to figure out why my two brunette parents had three blond kids and a redhead. Odd, that. But I'm sure my brother could explain it to me in terms I can't understand. Heh.

The Great Poombah

People, I am still riding a wave of love and joy that is almost making me forget I've been up since 3:45 this morning. Really, waking up that early was my fault because I pretty much fell asleep on the couch around 9 last night, and I should have known my body would still awaken after 6 hours of sleep. I am turning into Wilford Brimley. But, back to the point, I'm still happy because with the holiday yesterday, I was able to pay a visit to the Forever XXI that's closing today in the downtown mall. Not only were prices slashed, but things were also buy-one-get-one-free, so I got 5 jackets and a pair of cords for $27. Sure, all of it will probably be in tatters in 3 months and the jackets are very "2005" but I just couldn't pass up a deal like that. I felt like a kid in a candy store...except that I ate so many Junior Mints and Spree at the movies on Sunday that I really feel as though I could go without candy for a good 48 hours. Ugh. I'm getting too old to eat pounds of Skittles anymore. Any day now I'm going to get the Wilford Brimley "diabeetus."

Git back, Karen! Git back!

We went and saw Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby yesterday. Funny movie. Any of the scenes with the cougar just cracked me up. But the most interesting thing at the theatre was actually the wacky woman sitting behind us. At one point, I threw one leg up on the seat in front of me to stretch it out (nobody was sitting in that row, so it didn't bother anybody), and this woman walked over and told me to put my feet down and "be an adult." My reaction: "Whuh?" J's reaction: "Why don't you shut the @$#% up and go sit back down!!" Priceless. And then for the next hour, this woman kicked the seats in our row, talked to herself and laughed at inappropriate places. I hate to sound dismissive of those with mental problems, but what a kook. She was a middle-aged woman and we should have known something was up when we walked in the theatre and saw her sitting there by herself with a scarf wrapped almost completely around her face. Lesson learned. "Chip, I will come at you like a spider monkey!"

It was my peanut butter sandwich

The wedding last night was beautiful. And I'm not just saying that because I'm sleep deprived and I indulged in a number of cocktails. The food was excellent, the music was hopping, and somebody even broke a glass hurricane lantern (and, if I remember my St. Elmo's Fire correctly, "It's not a party until something gets broken"). The bride chose roses and bridesmaid dresses that were this deep red, so it was quite gorgeous considering the ballroom was done up in white and gold. I also met a lot of nice people. One girl from Texas told me that I was lucky to have hips and stringy blonde hair. She was awesome!

Right now I'm just hoping I get through the day without a) falling asleep at my desk and b) getting drenched when we go out for lunch. To all of you in the path of Ernesto, make sure you wear a slicker today. Hee, that reminds me of how my Dad used to call galoshes "rubbers." That always made me giggle as a kid...and, really, it still does...I'm so immature.