Please send help! Can't find remote!

I'm stuck watching one of those CRAPTASTIC local evening 'magazine' shows. You know, they're always about things and places locally you'll never do or see. Borrrring, usually. This one, oddly enough, is about the Wine Country. Everyone here has already done the wine country! Oh wait, it's called "Wine Country". Please God, someone find the remote!

And as a completely unrelated aside, what the hell is a 'ringtoe'? Toe ring, I have that figured out. But ringtoe? Huh?

60-something Saturday

Yes, it was in the 60's today- sorry Nanooks! Nary a cloud in the sky, dawning bright and clear, it was a wonderful day. My best friend Lisa and I celebrated my birthday by meeting in San Mateo's downtown area for lunch, movie, shopping. Parking was a breeze (such a rarity in the Bay Area) even though we did almost have a punch-fest with the stupid parking box thing that stole my money and seemed pointless since there was no one attending the garage anyway. The theatre was next door. We found a hamburger joint, I opened my presents, we went to see Sideways (not exactly the MOVIE OF THE YEAR!!! as everyone proclaims, but interesting enough to us non-wine-snobs), and then we walked around some more and got some coffee. I met a Corgi puppy, Lisa and I shared a delicious dessert called Blackout Cake, and I bought a few things at Hallmark. We discussed getting out of the rat race and working as waitresses in a small town in the Santa Barbara wine valley area, in our alternate lives. Simpler people, simpler lives, it does look appealing sometimes. I decided this evening that based on a touching scene in the movie, Lisa is definitely the cabernet... I am the pinot. And on a shallower note: our hair color matches our grape personas!

Delusions of Gravity Defiance

Today is my birthday. Since I am stealthily creeping up on the underbelly of THE BIG birthday, I found it humourous that an ad for making one's 'final arrangements' at Skylawn Memorial Park fell out of my morning paper. Later, after having been reminded by a certain someone (CS) that I am closer to "kicking 40 in the ass" now, constant daytime television ads for funeral insurance and burial expense plans weren't really so tee-hee. A scathing evaluation in a full-length mirror later, I have decided that what I REALLY need to do is start getting up at 4:30am to potty the dog, hit the gym by 5:15am, be back at home by 6:15 to prepare myself for work. I haven't gained any weight recently, but boy it sure seems my skin is no longer scofflaw-ing gravity! Doubting that this only seems so due to the wintry fading of my almost-perpetual tan, I resolve to do something about it! I'll try it for a week. I can do anything for a week, right? And by the end of that week, I bet it won't seem so bad. It's not that cold here- I can get out of bed at 4:30am if I resolve to do so. Lady will wonder what the hell is going on, but she's usually up for an outside trip no matter what time it is. In fact, she'll get TWO, because I'll take her out again before I leave for work. After a week of THAT, she'll probably wake me at 4:30am whether I'm hitting the gym or not. Damn her naturally thin frame!

Nerd-free Zone

This quiz made me realize I really should have gone to Science class more often...

My Manchurian Codephrase

There's a phrase that Lisa and I utter to each other, five syllables that spring us both to life on the rare holiday we both have off: "I'm totally broke."

And with that, a bright light appears, our eyes glaze over, and we turn into catatonic robots and are forced to go shopping.

(Actually, it works on non-holidays too, as we have found from past experience.)

So shopping we went, she for a job-interview outfit and a birthday gift for her mother-in-law, me for myself as usual. I bought a new cordless phone to replace the one I bought maybe a year ago for almost a hundred dollars. Said old phone displays the term "Out of Range" when it's sitting IN ITS CHARGER. And runs out of NEW battery life within 20 minutes of talk. (Am I a professional justification technician or what?) Then we bought girlie primping items at Walgreen's. Lisa's spell was broken for a moment, when she stopped me from buying a $6.99 lipgloss at 2 for 1. "It will still be on sale next week, o broke one." *Note to self: Must have Lisa re-programmed because something is obviously leaking.* Then we had yummy Mexican food at a hole in the wall with a line out the door.

When I got home, I had a message from a man interested in buying my treadmill- I put signs up in all the laundry rooms at my condo complex a month ago with ZERO response. Turns out, my sole caller was the security supervisor on the premises! He came over, I showed him the treadmill and how multifaceted it is, and we agreed on a price. I think I clinched the sale when I explained how the steep incline will tone his butt. He will pick it up tomorrow and I will be NOT SO BROKE til payday after all! :) Buh-bye, big behemoth living room hog!

See!! Shopping motivates the God of Windfalls in my money house. It does so!!! (See previous comment re: prof'l justification tech).

Today Part II

I work in Family Court, which includes Juvenile Delinquency and Dependency. It didn't take me long in this part of my varied work history to realize that society should simply ban MARRIAGE- why stop at gay marriage? And also, one of my personal mantras now is "Be careful who you have kids with" after what I've seen and heard in court. Actually, I'd be a proponent of sterilzation at birth, with a reverse of the procedure when you could prove you were emotionally and financially ready to have a child, if it would ever realistically work or pass into law. Some of the saddest stories you'd never want to hear are in juvenile. But I digress... the reason for this post is to share the WORST name I've yet to hear being bestowed upon a child who wound up in juvie jail. Now, we see lots of crazy juvenile names- all trying so hard to be unique, they wind up ridiculous. Names with crazy spellings. Names with more apostrophes than letters (example? Tr'a'n tae', stuff like that). Names that are a combination of mom and dad's names (example? Roberivia). Names that are dad's name spelled backwards (example? Dranoel. Not kidding). Names with extra letters and syllables that the parents and kids insist are SILENT! (example? Ronalie pronounced Ronel). Names that are an abridged version of a grocery store product (example? Lemongello and Orangello. Again, not kidding). But this was the worst name I'd ever seen on a kid, and no wonder he's in trouble: his name was Ashtray. I bet Ashley and Trayvon were so intent on giving their newborn a moniker that reflected the deep love and committment they had for each other (ahem) that they didn't even see what they were doing to him.

Today's Thoughts

1. Good thing I didn't slip and fall on the patch of ice (it was that cold last night!) I slid through this morning while pottying the dog. I would have landed on the hand holding the plastic bag of poo. Stuff like this only happens to me when I decide I'm sick of pants and put on a skirt and pantyhose. And am already late to work.

2. Some terms for the legions of bad drivers we have here.
"Meanderthals" (my mom thinks she created this one, but I think I've heard it elsewhere): People who just wander down the road, with no particular intent or destination, apparently no coherent thought, and no consideration for anyone else on the road. Why they're up at 7:30AM competing for road space with those of us who WORK FOR A LIVING is beyond me.
"#2 Squatters": People who squat in the number 2 lane on the freeway, doing about 60mph. Folks, the number 1 lane is for passing and those of you imbeciles driving what you think of as a fighter jet. The number 2 lane is not for taking a leisurely dump on the rest of us, despite its misleading designation; it's for driving FAST and yet being out of the way for said fighter jet imbeciles. The number 3 lane is for reasonable, Type B people, and the number 4 lane is for people who are exiting within one mile.
"Ears on the Road": People who drive with their ears watching the road, because their eyes are busy facing the person in the passenger seat and talking. Or swivelling around and around looking for something, at a good clip in heavy traffic, instead of pulling over and figuring out what the hell the plan is.
"Bedheads": People who drive as though they suddenly woke up and found themselves behind the wheel of a moving vehicle. "What the..? Am I DRIVING?? How did this happ..".
"Blinkization Point": The moment the guy in front of you realizes he's had his blinker on for 5 miles. Usually occurs when he decides to signal toward the OTHER direction. If you're so unconscious you don't hear your blinker for 20 minutes, you probably shouldn't be driving.

C'mon, the first one's free!

This blogging thing is inexplicably addictive. I'm not saying anything that a fellow blogger reading this doesn't already know, but I feel like I'm making NEW FRIENDS with people who don't even know I exist. Which sort of sounds like I need a conservator and a psych evaluation, but I have several blogs I visit daily to see what new thing each exceptionally witty and entertaining girl has written about the minutae of her life. I'm a verbal and literate person, but BOY.. some people can really WRITE! It all started with Jennsylvania, and I don't even remember how I happened onto her blog (when it was allaboutjen.com), and from there I have found new sites from her links and their links and so on, and so on... Wish I had time to post whenever a thought worth sharing occurs to me. I had some good blog thoughts earlier this week but they've escaped me now! Grrr.

Duly Warned

So a few months back I hurt myself at work- sort of a cumulative strain thing going on in my neck, shoulder, arm. I thought it would go away, but lately it has gotten much worse. Finally yesterday I went to the worker's comp doctor to start the process of getting treatment. One of the two medications he gave me has this to say in the warnings section of the pharmacy literature: "Stop taking this medication and notify your doctor immediately if you vomit anything that looks like coffee grounds." Coffee Grounds? Yes, even though I'm sure I do need to be warned not to use my hairdryer in the bathtub or while sleeping (thanks big unremovable sticker on the cord!), I like to think that I wouldn't need to be told to seek medical attention if I vomited anything that looked like coffee grounds. I'm on it!