Fresh Baked

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

None of your beeswax

Imagine it: You're on your way home from work (birds chirping), almost out of traffic (soft breeze), thinking about the burger you'll soon be enjoying (gentle harp plucking). Ah... Bliss! When, all of a sudden, you see a dark cloud up ahead! (thunk!) But... It's on the freeway with you! (crash!) And it's fast approaching your car! (Zip!) Hey, hang on now, that's no cloud-- that's, that's, that's... A SWARM OF BEES!!! (Boom, Clang, Pop, Bang!!) AAaaaahhhh!!

I drove through a swarm of bees. Thrice, actually, because I guess bees suck at navigation.

I'd like to think I'm with the majority of the population who have joined the 'I Don't Really Care for Bees' school of thought, but for me, Don't Really Care for should be replaced with Am Petrified of and May Wet Myself When Confronted By. So it's safe to say that I was less than thrilled for them to present themselves as a united front. Freaked out? Yeah, freaked out would about sum it up. And of course, I'm still driving at this point, with the sunroof and windows wide-ass open. I don't know how I didn't get into an accident. I don't know how I was able to close all the openings to my car so quickly. I do know that I got out my camera, because, Freeway? Traffic? Bees? Why, it's the perfect time and place for taking pictures!

Don't see them all clearly?

I've gone ahead and circled every single one of those buggers.

No bees were harmed in the taking of these pictures. Except Benny, there-- Benny met with a rather timely death, in my opinion.

Tuesday, June 29, 2004

Shit, cracked.

Movies: Dodgeball. Hilarious! I was all set to go to the gym last night when a friend called and I wound up at this movie instead. Ab work-out: covered. I laughed so much in that movie that I didn't need the gym. And when did Jason Bateman and I start dating and why did I not know about it?

TV: Joe Schmo 2 worked out the rest of my body as I flailed about in a pool of disbelief and humor. The boxes and sacks!! The Porked 'n Beans!! Ingrid's not buying any of it anymore-- she's so gone next week.

Reading: I Love Everybody (And Other Atrocious Lies): True Tales of a Loudmouth Girl. Laurie Notaro wrote about blowing a snot bubble out her nose that is almost the size of Christina Ricci's head... HA! Girl's forehead alone is GIGANTIC and its about time somebody made note of it.

Life: Yesterday I was stopped at a red light when I looked over at the car next to mine. A brand-spankin'-new BMW Z5, driven by a young model-woman who was perfectly made up, wearing designer shades, and a fatty diamond ring. The best part? In her hand was a stack of twenty dollar bills. Y'know, in case I didn't get it before.

Also: (My friend is psychic, too!) Dionne and I were in Dodgeball when, I kid you not, she makes a comment to me that is repeated on-screen, word-for-word, by one of the characters Five. Seconds. Later.

Monday, June 28, 2004

Dig me, I'm Trelawney

So the experience I had last week with Hudson was just one in a recent string of events that I seem to have prophesied. Another example? Last week I was watching Jeopardy! and answered an question (questioned an answer?) saying Barbara Boxer even though I knew it was nowhere near being close. Not three minutes later the phone rang. It was Barbara Boxer, calling to say she was PISSED! Okay, fine. It was an automated Barbara Boxer, probably calling to ask me to vote for something-or-other... I don't know. I hung up after hearing her name 'cause it freaked me out. But things like this have been happening a lot lately and I have had it up to HERE with the coincidence (and because one of these times, somebody really is going to wind up in the ER).

And speaking of.. I'm very happy Maura Tierney won CPS (but I totally predicted she would). Not only because I was going to be named Maura, which would have made me happier than the name I wound up with, but because I loved her on News Radio. Excellent reasons for wanting someone to win, no? At least I wasn't basing it on something as superficial as charities. Très boring! But, on the downside, I will miss, very much, James Blake's sexy, sexy thumb. Damn sexy. Great cuticle.

Friday, June 25, 2004

Hudson Won't Die

This is a piece of the AIM convo that Hudson and I had yesterday when I decided it was time that she be introduced to The Bean. Not to get too far off topic, but the girl has never been to the Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf in her life. How does she live??

B: Would you die if we got into my car and I was listening to Clay Aiken?
H: Would I die? No, I don't think so. Will I laugh? Oh yeah...
B: What if I was listening to Clay Aiken and started singing along so loudly that the windows popped out and then the glass shards flew into my face and I couldn't see so I jumped the center divider and rolled us down an embankment? Would you die then?
H: I already did all of that in my car, except for the windows popping out bit, so I think we'd be ok. Maybe if we actually flipped...
B: Damnit...WHY WON'T YOU DIE?!!

So, we go to the Bean and we get an eXtreme Caramba! and are enjoying it, as it is eXtremely enjoyable, when we get back into the car and I come thisclose to killing her for realsies.

I guess I said something funny (and I wish I could remember what it was because I love it when I'm funny) that made her laugh so hard I thought she was choking and that surely she'd die and I would have killed her and Shit! that IM screen was still up on my computer and it will be used against me no matter how often I say it was a joke! Then I almost killed her a second time immediately after that because my brain said the only logical thing to do when you're driving a car and the person next to you is choking is to slam your foot so hard on the brakes that the seatbelt gives her the Heimlich. Where in the hell did I come up with that? Why am I trying to kill Hudson? And what does Clay Aiken have to do with any of this?

Wednesday, June 23, 2004

What Up, G?

No, really:
- Thanks to Zoot (Suit Riot. Riot!! If you see her, I recommend throwing back a bottle of beer.) for the Gmail invite. It's Ggreat and I Glove it. (Heh.)
- I miss my sister. She's been gone for most of this year already and now she'll be in Canada for the summer. It's been 19 days so far-- only 3 more months to go!!

TV Commentary:
Poker: Lauren Graham is a hustlah! Man, she was slick. I'm looking forward to the final now because I think there will be some good bantering with her and MIB.
Joe Schmo: Sorry 'bout your luck there, Ernie, but at some point all our wicks go cold. I didn't think this this elimination was as funny as the pearl necklace one, but still, highly amusing. Also? I can't believe Ingrid, Captain Suspicious, is not calling this stuff out more. Ambrosia did a good job getting her to chill out a little, but still... they're taking this to the ridiculous!
MXC: If you're not watching MXC, what the hell are you waiting for?
Jeopary!: Ken is awesome. I cannot believe the amount of knowledge that guy has stored in his brain.

Of note:
- Michael Flatley is on the’s Celebrity 100 as number 75... under Magician. This must be because of his magical use of baby oil and not his prestidigitation.

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Thank You: Love Notes From a Morning Person.

I would like to thank the following for my expedient arrival to work this morning:

- My three (three!) alarm clocks for going off this morning at their appointed time and still not managing to wake me. Your asses are fired.

- Whoever messed with the Ranch dressing lid to cause it to gush out All. Over. Everything I was packing for lunch.

- Chuck Taylor. Chuck, I love ya-- you've kept my feet happy in countless situations but this morning, you were not my friend. I ran out of the house, socks and shoes in hand, knowing that by the time I hit the freeway my feet would be shod and I'd be ready to roll. But no. The tongue of my left shoe would not, for any amount of prodding, lay in a flat, comfortable, shoe-lace-tying position.

- The slow ass motherfucker in the Camry in front of me who REFUSED to get closer than 17 yards to the car in front of him and then for speeding up when I tried to pass him.

- Caltrans, for their super-nifty work on the 405/Harbor on-ramp which now has become a merging HELL for those of us trying to get to the 73.

- And lastly, I would like to give sincere thanks to my next door neighbor, aka: the reason I didn't fall asleep last night. She was in her backyard urging their dog to go PeePee! go PeePee!! go PeePee! go PeePee!! for what felt like hours. And to her husband, for arguing with her about the bathroom behavior of this dog loud enough for me to hear every goddamn word.

Thank you all, I hope we can repeat this experience never.

Sunday, June 20, 2004

Cutting Back

I think I figured out the abounding carb-licious offerings: they're not for the Atkins-minded, they're for the people who are trying to eat with them. I went out the other night with a friend who is on Atkins and we had a bitch of a time coming up with something that we could split. We wound up getting something we both wanted, but it was a struggle to get to that point. Had there been some of the Atkin's stamped food nearby, I would have graciously given in to getting it for sanity/simplicities sake.

Also, isn't this weird? Everyday this week a member of my family had his/her hair cut. It was this crazy phenomena that nobody seemed to notice until this weekend.

Oliver, Chief and I display our new dos:

Just a little off the top...

Saturday, June 19, 2004



Thursday, June 17, 2004

So Dry. So Clean.

Fascinating opening line: I went to pick up my dry cleaning this evening after work. More info? I had to turn the dress in because I wore it while drunk and demonstrating all sorts of stupid drunken behavior. It's a ticketable offense, made more unforgivable given the occasion and the fact that the dress in question is not mine. So, I dropped the dress off under a great, shameful cloud. After all the pertinent information was exchanged, we had this lovely little conversation:

"Can you make sure to get these spots here?"
"It would help if I knew what it was."
"Um... yeah... thats, um, puke."
(God. I felt like such a louse.)

Cut to today, 2 weeks later: I gave the lady my name, trying to keep my head low and pretending that I wasn't there for this reason. (I know this isn't a blue dress scandal, but still, it's something I'm not proud of.) She came back with my dress and while ringing me up mentioned little things she had noticed, all the while looking at me like I was one step away from rehab. The stains were stubborn, but she was able to get them out. Super, she remembers me. And beads on the collar? She replaced the one that I had somehow ripped out over the course of the evening. Great! Thanks! I had no idea that had even happened. Oh, and also? There was a tear above the slit on the side that she was able to repair. I am OVERJOYED to hear this! Please, tell me more!

Adding another layer of fun to this is the fact that I was on the phone when I went in there, something I generally consider rude but I feel like I have 'let me call you back in a sec'-d this friend too many times to hang up. (It's different if someone calls you while you're in there, though. Similar to the differences between 1st degree and premeditated murder.) I had to give the lady my name while trying not to focus too much on the fact that the speaker on my phone was up much too high and my friend was talking about bikini waxing.

Let me add Dry Cleaner to the list of places to which I am now thrilled to get back.

Wednesday, June 16, 2004

"Can anyone smell that? It's the infectious scent of love."

Joe Schmoe 2 is shaping up to be even more fantastic than the first one, unbelievable as that sounds. I think all the production members involved have decided to go so far over the top with it that the altitude has made them light-headed and, as a result, we get things like the 'falcon twist' (which I keep calling Falcon Crest) and Derek Newcastle, "The Pompous British Host" (Ralph Garman in disguise). This show is so great.

Best of all had to be the elimination ceremony, in which the 'bachelor' asks the girls he chooses to keep if he "may give [them] a pearl necklace." I was DYING. Dead, dead, dying, dead. I don't know how they all did it with such straight faces. I was pretty impressed with the group of actors at that point, but even more so with Cammy later, when Ingrid was telling the other girls that their speeches sounded rehearsed and Cammy said "thank you." Such an idiot-- well done! Hope they can keep it up.


I would like to take a moment now to call "Bullshit" on the following:

-Aretha Franklin, the "Queen of Soul," lip syncing (a bad rendition of) the National Anthem at the Piston/Lakers game the other night. BULLSHIT, Aretha! And, if the lip syncing wasn't her choice, she should have, at the very least, hit the timing a little better.

-Coke, Ben & Jerry's, and everyone else who have given in to the Carb-tastic way of living. BULL. SHIT. Kids, you're eating ice cream and drinking coke-- if you want less carbs, give it up entirely or, alternately, don't eat/drink it all. Say it with me now: moderation. And Slim-Fast!! Diet Diet Slim Fast. I upgrade this to HORSESHIT.

-Myself. Self, you had quite a rant going, which caused this list to be born. I say Bullshit to you, self. BULLSHIT for not remembering all the things you were worked up about. Damnit.

Tuesday, June 15, 2004

This is dirty...

and tons of fun!!

Monday, June 14, 2004

Ma and Pa sport the duct tape tiara-- aren't they beautiful?

Happy Flag Day

Thank God.

Baseball, cell phones, and tiaras.

My weekend started off with a late and hectic exit from work on Friday night, but that madness didn't bother me for too long because I was going to a baseball game! I don't know why, but there is something about going into a stadium and watching baseball that makes me happy. In general, I don't follow baseball (okay, or most sports)-- don't have a favorite team (although I've been taught to hate the Yankees), don't keep track of the scores, wouldn't ever think sit down at home and watch a game, but man... I love going to see the teams play (overpriced beer and all). Also, the Angels have set up a sweet deal with Ticketmaster where season-ticket holders can sell back the seats they aren't going to be using to make them available to the public. I think that its awesome for all parties, and, since I purchased my tickets that way, I say a hearty thank you to the folks that gave me V512, row D, seats 5-8.

Saturday dawned with the promise of a new cell phone, and hopefully, one that worked. My now-old phone was experiencing technical difficulties with about every call I had-- the battery died, I lost a signal, a combination of both, and once when I answered, there was a loud screeching that only stopped when I pulled off the battery pack. Not fun at all. To keep this short because I'm sure you're just riveted, I got a new phone. I have service at home now! I can text message (which will be my downfall)! My battery stays charged! I am in love with this phone. We're going to run off into the sunset and set up bars called Energy.

And finally, yesterday. Yesterday I came to the conclusion that I could, with little difficulty, get used to wearing a tiara. Back up: I'm having this party next month where all my guests have been asked to wear something made of duct tape. Strange? No-- perfect. I have started myself out by making a duct tape tiara and, for the record, it is RAD. I wore it all night (as you do) and again this morning when I was getting ready for work. I love it a little less than my new phone, but a lot, nonetheless.

Sunday, June 13, 2004

What am I?

so excited

Thursday, June 10, 2004

Going All In

Thank you, Hudson, for starting me off on the coding to clean this joint up. With one simple line, containing a bunch of words that should have made sense but only confused me, you pushed me into the scary world of html and WHAAAA!! Man, I'm glad its over.

Also, way to go Michael Ian Black! Copperfield is proud, I'm sure.

(oh, yeah-- look who learned how to link!)

This is Beth. Beth is very busy. Beth could probably really use a Bloody Mary now.

Ready for the WOW?

This weeks word: Affianced.

Merriam-Webster says:
Main Entry: affiance
Function: transitive verb
Inflected Form(s): -anced; -anc·ing
: to solemnly promise (oneself or another) in marriage : BETROTH

A belated Congratulations! to the following couples: Lushy and Hudson, DJ and Dolo, Ry and Kath. Best wishes to all.

Tuesday, June 08, 2004

The fine print

I just signed up for Netflixs and went absolutely crazy adding all these movies to my list. I ended with 88 titles in the queue and, signing out, read this: "Most customers add 6-10 movies to their Rental Queue during their first visit." Its like I just had myself 8-9 visits all at once! Phew, that sure saved a lot of time.

Also, on the subject of... reading things-- Social Security sent me a letter the other day and my favorite line read, "Your spouse and children will be eligible for a one-time only death bonus of...: Huh... one-time only? And here I was planning on kickin' the bucket at least twice.

Read the fine print, y'all. For one thing, its important, but it can also be amusing.

Saturday, June 05, 2004

This is your brain on; this is my brain off.

Things I think of at 5:30am (no sleep till Brooklyn):

-Harry Potter/Azkaban is great. I saw it tonight on IMAX and can't quite wrap my head around the appropriate words for the experience. Huge round of applause for all involved (especially the main actors who I like more as they grow up)

-Had I not gone to see HP, I would have been in bed four hours ago... warm, sweet bed...

-I think, if necessary, I would be able to put two whole Twinkies (tm) in my mouth at one time. I think one would be easy enough (I've never tried), but two might be a bit more of a challenge. But a challenge I'm willing to face. (and this, on the heels of Holz's decree)

-What the hell am I doing here? This isn't my bed-- I want my pillow!

Thursday, June 03, 2004

Did I stutter?

P: Has FedEx come by yet?
Me: Nope.
P: So they haven't dropped anything off?
Me: Nope.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

Your word of the week: Anality

Turns out that its a real word. Damnit. I thought I made it up!

Hey-- just because I thought I made it up doesn't mean I have to practice it by looking it up.

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

Mary Anne with fellow redhead Maureen O'Hara

For the past few weeks/months/whatever, I have been paying special attention to the word 'just'. I remember in college one of my professors having a big problem with it, as she didn't think we were using it properly since she only accepted it as being an adjective and not an adverb. Since I've started writing more I've constantly heard her voice in my head crying, "Just doesn't mean that-- look it up!!" And when I did, just meant fair.

On that note, I have also been thinking about how much I hate it when people say that something "isn't fair." Fair enough, I have used this phrase more than I care to recall, but, as I was 12 at the time and highly pubescent, I will mostly forgive myself. The type of "isn't fair" that I seem to take special offense to lately is of the petulant, whiney variety that comes when talking about why the well-to-do are living in mansions or why somebody else always gets the freshest melons at the grocery store. Its ridiculous and small-minded and, on top of that, aren't there a million words in the English language? It shouldn't be that difficult to pick another more apt.

Well, last week I found myself an offender of my own two gripes. See, my cousin died on Monday. You don't know it, but in my post index there is a draft of one, written only hours before she died, asking you all to keep her in your thoughts and, if you're inclined, your prayers. Since she had cancer and since it was aggressively attacking her, her death was not a surprise-- only the quickness of how it took her. For the days following, I told myself that while all things happen for a reason, I didn't have to like it. I realized that she was in a better place and that she wasn't in pain anymore and, as she said in her final words, she was "at peace."

In situations like this, I find that there are a lot of questions asked-- primarily, why? Why would God choose her to take from us when she was so young? Why her? Why now? Why at all? I kept thinking about her kids and her husband and all the friends and family she left behind. But it wasn't until they loaded her casket into the hearse after the funeral that I said to myself "this just isn't fair."

These are the salad days, and for that, I bitch.

These things have nothing to do with anything, and so... I post them together:

-I am scared of sharks. So frightened, in fact, that while I was in the Junior Lifeguard program (a program I pleaded to be excused from) I had a panic attack while doing one of the required swims and had to be hauled out of the water and into first aid. And yet? I watched 3 Jaws movies this weekend. Okay, so I watched the first one twice, but that's a technicality... why am I doing this to myself? I can't even watch it normally-- I have to tuck my feet under me to make sure they won't be bitten off at the ankle. The blue carpet isn't helping, either.

-My dad makes my lunch on an almost-daily basis. It started out when he was making a salad for himself and then for himself and my mom, and now I'm in on the greens. These salads are works of art-- they are beautiful collections of lettuce, broccoli, cauliflower, peppers, almonds, tomatoes, carrots, red cabbage, walnuts, dried cranberries, and flax seed (to help maintain a lovely coat). The lineup may change from time to time and some stuff is added or taken away, but this fact remains: its a lot of stuff to be chopping up at 5am for, not only himself, but 2-3 others as well. You guys remember Job? Meet his progeny. Okay, so its not that extreme. Anyway, the point that I am so slowly getting to is that I was really looking forward to my salad this afternoon and the heartache that I'm suffering is that I will NOT be able to enjoy it. I'm still confused as to what happened here, but all I know is that one minute it was sitting there, beckoning to me, the Ranch dressing wafting up into my nostrils and sweetly calling my name and in the next minute, the fucker took a fall. And it fell good. It fell EVERYWHERE. It fell everywhere but in my mouth, which is where it needs to be right now because I'm hungry and I really wanted it and 1, 2, 3... lets have a pity party for me because I'm such a grump!

-My sister (seen below and, there, called Molly) had her birthday under stressful circumstances this year. Not only had she returned from her travels the day before, but she had only so much time to settle down and be home, unpack, and then repack for the next 4 months before she left to run a B&B (which she has never seen) in Canada (where she has never been). Add to this a funeral and the accompanying sadness. It was not a very happy birthday for her. With all this going on, we decided that she was channeling Sam Baker in Sixteen Candles with all the forgetting of her day because of a larger event. I feel badly for her, of course. I'm the sympathetic friend... or the Joan Cusack character, because c'mon, its Joan Cusack and she's rad. That said, if anyone out there has seen Jake Ryan, please have him contact me immediately-- he has a cake to bake and some undies to find.