Category: Uncategorized (Page 63 of 114)

Woohoo! I finished my book club book (“The Secret History”, by Donna Tartt) with 53 minutes to spare. It took me almost that long to drive to the Hinterlands, where book club was meeting!

I really liked the book, as did everyone else. There was lots of lively discussion, and it was interesting to discover that some people liked characters I hadn’t liked at all. In any event, a book I’d suggested last go-round was brought by another person, and was voted as the next selection: A Million Little Pieces, by James Frey. Here’s the extra bonus: I’ve already read it! I’ll probably re-read parts of it/skim it as we get closer to meeting, but I loved the book. Absolutely loved it. I even loved the book cover design, and I don’t normally get wound up about that. And now that it’s Oprah’s book club pick, I guess a whooooole lot more people are going to read it. (Get your copy quickly, is what I’m sayin’.) We also noted that we were going from a book where drugs & alcohol were used freely & in the utmost bacchannalian sense – to the starkest description of recovery & withdrawal. The not-so-pretty side of it, and there are some graphic, painful descriptions of his autobiographical account of getting clean & then trying to stay that way.

Well peeps, the morning is slipping through my fingers. I awoke to the oddest color of sky this morning & now it’s grown darker & darker with thunder rumbling & rain is starting to fall. Once again, I will be challenging myself to drive to work safely & under the speed limit, wishing I were curled up in bed with a good book, some yummy tea & a dog at my side for pettin’ and yarn for knittin’. Have an excellent Wednesday!

Oh no he DI-IN’T!

“My biggest mistake was not recognizing, by Saturday (before the storm made landfall), that Louisiana was dysfunctional,” Michael Brown told a House of Representatives panel looking into the aftermath of the catastrophic storm.

The Peter Principle (as defined by Wikipedia):In a Hierarchy Every Employee Tends to Rise to His Level of Incompetence.

Who among us HASN’T worked for a Michael Brown? This quote of his smacked so badly of a couple of my former bosses I almost went blind.

Blame shifting? Dude. You’re already fucked. Shut up while you can still find another excessively-ovecompensating job where you can throw people under the bus at your leisure.

I like my book club. We meet every 6 weeks or so, and talk and drink wine & eat really good food. We’ve read some awesome books, too. Life of Pi, Bel Canto & The Kite Runner to name a few. (All standard good book club books.) Last gathering, half the attendees didn’t read the book, yours truly included. (The book was not to my liking.) The latest book is quite good, “The Secret History” by Donna Tartt, and three guesses as to who was cramming half the book the night before book club?

MOI? But I bought the book right away & began reading it right away. And when I reflected on this, ohhhh, I saw this blazing pattern in lights and shimmery stars, to how I approached EVERY assignment in college. Start early, set it down, party party party, cram it finished in the final approach.

I’m reliving my youth, plain and simple, only without the hangovers or grade cards. Now, I’m almost done with the book, and I’ve got ’til 7p tonight. And? It’ll be fresh in my mind! Hah! The justifications haven’t even changed over the years. Except the beer’s been replaced with knitting.

OK, I’m not getting over-obsessed, but I went back to look & see why I was getting the “Cuz I Got High” hits, and LOOK AT TODAY’S STATS!

ENOUGH with the meatshakes. Bleah! OK, but I will give wild props to Mrs.Strizzay for the line, “My meatshake brings all the boys to the yard.” Between that & “Pay it forward MOTHERFUCKERS” I will be retiring from my Cafe Press riches in two weeks.

Oh, and Becky, people searching for “Cuz I Got High” are hitting me because of this blog entry.

People. I am high on life and Thai food. Not the wacky tobacky OR meatshakes.

Kristin has returned from Chicago, and she brought me a pressie! Me loves the pressies! Pressies turn me into an Australian Cookie Monster, apparently! (At least that’s how the dialect sounds in my head. Feel free to embellish.)

Isn’t it just the cutest? I LOVE IT! I shall spend the afternoon measuring things.

Yoda was apparently behind the wheel on my (very late again) commute to work.

Overheard: “Ran that red light, I just did!”

I don’t check my statistics obsessively – a few times a week, and even less than that, do I check “keyword activity”. But today? I did. And was GREATLY amused.

OK, so 2 people searching for “cuz I got high” found me. Even more scary, somebody searching for “meatshake” is out there. And if I ever decide to start a band? I’ve got the perfect name now: “Jen and the Fabric Freaks”.

(as sung to the tune of Me & You & A Dog Named Blue…..)

Eric Chaloux. He’s a reporter on the local CBS affiliate, and he used to be on the NBC station. Where do I begin? From a global overview, I think it’s funny how with some things, we change our feelings over time without even really realizing it.

When Eric first appeared on NBC’s 10p news, I could. not. stand him. His delivery for every news story was dramatic, over-wrought & inconsistent with the rest of the news program. He was the fodder of many jokes I made, with others in the media biz, about the Highly! Dramatic! Delivery! And then he was gone from NBC.

Because he’d gone to CBS (KCTV). The station had undergone huge changes, new management, and they were re-positioning themselves in the market with a whole new approach: LIVE! Late-Breaking! Investigative! Essentially, if it bleeds, it leads. Quite the perfect environment for Mr. Eric. Except now he was on mornings. Ohhhhh, new fodder & fun in our household. Poor Eric. He gets sent out at 4 a.m. and reports from old crime scenes, still with the unflagging enthusiasm that seems to be part of who he is, not an act. And he did tone down his voice, that was the thing that really made me nuts. James, being the early riser in our home, would tell me “Eric Chaloux’s out on an on-ramp, waiting for the ice!” “Eric Chaloux’s stuck at some strip mall where a robbery happened 14 hours ago!” One of the funniest early-morning adventures came when Eric tried to demonstrate how thick the ice was, and broke his ice scraper. Even the “pretty people” back in the studio seem to chuckle a little bit more at/with him. I developed a little bit of a soft spot for the guy, because anyone who’s dedicated & enthusiastic, despite getting stuck with the shitwork, deserves some appreciation.

So in my new job, I work with a lot of different sales reps at KCTV, one of whom is drier than dry & makes me laugh every time I see him. In our first lunch, I think he heard basically the same things I’ve just written, and, like any good jokester (and salesperson), stowed that information away. The next time we had a meeting, he was presenting some football packages, and (with great dramatic flair) gave me an autographed picture, from Eric Chaloux. Ohhhh, lordy. I got a little worried, that Eric Chaloux was starting to think he had an obsessive admirer, but I was reassured that was not the case. Fast forward to the .Access Hollywood event, and lookie-who’s covering the excitement? Eric Chaloux. My funny sales rep? Got Eric over for a picture, which turned into a GROUP picture with all my sales reps & the general manager of the station. Good Grief. Kristin was, once again, laughing hysterically.

I told the general manager of the station, “You know what? Eric should move to evenings. He’s been on mornings long enough, don’t you think?” The GM said they were discussing it, in fact. And a week ago, Mr. Chaloux began appearing on the 10p news. I don’t want to take ALL the credit, but I’d be fine with a brief interview/profile on Hilarious BlogWriters of Kansas City.

The moment, captured. (And cropped. I’m not giving my reps any extra glory.)

So the open house party was a success; it looked a little sketchy at first what with all the rain & I think everyone’s anxiety level was hitting the roof. Having sat at my desk smelling garlic and cheese for two hours, it was all I could do not to leap onto the table and sit in the middle of it, grabbing brie with one hand & shrimp with the other. Since I’d like to keep this job, I refrained.

However, once the crush of people started, I found myself squirrelling off to my office to sit and just be still for 5-10 minutes at a time. I think I’m more the 20-person-max-party-girl, and I like to have the option to SIT DOWN in a four-hour window. There was no sitting, and there were at least 100 people milling about. I spent most of my time talking to co-workers, one of whom announced she was gettin’ drunk, dammit. I felt so old at that moment. My days of getting drunk around all my coworkers (at the office no less!) are gone gone gone they been gone so long gone gone gone so long. I have been known to whoop it up in a bar setting, but anymore, the meds I’m on make me sweat like a sprinkler if I’m drinking and it’s slightly warm, so that’s unpleasant, and I’d rather not lose control in front of people who don’t really know me yet.

I had some fun conversations, though, and my boss & his wife are just awesome. The stories they tell about their kids make me laugh SO HARD, because each of their three children are so different, and yet such characters. I’ll re-tell them all, I’m sure, but for today I’ll leave you with the one from their youngest, a 3-year-old boy. He wanted McDonald’s. And stated it as such. “Mom, I want McDonald’s.” “No, honey.” “Mom, I WANT McDonald’s!” “No!” “Mom, I WANT MCDONALD’S, GODDAMMIT!” She almost drove off the road. And upon learning he shouldn’t use that word, it became a mantra chant from the backseat: “GODDAMMIT GODDAMMIT GODDAMMIT GODDAMMIT!”

I said, “So, did he get McDonald’s?”
“Nope.”

I love good parenting.

I had lunch with my good friend Cindy today; she drove, and on our way back we encountered all the blocked roads & extra traffic due to the art fair on the Plaza starting today. Cars weaving in and out, stopping, crossing intersections in the midst of traffic, just your usual pell-mell excitement down here. We both decided that the restaurant was yummy, but we were annoyed that we both smelled like a hot pancake griddle after we left. I guess that’s what happens if you eat someplace that serves a lot of paninis?

Anyway, Cindy’s yelling at the bad drivers, and I said, “We are exactly the same when it comes to driving. I’m glad you’re screaming at them, because otherwise I’d have to, and it’s nice to let someone else do it.” Two minutes later we’re at one of those decision-points, where a giant Mack truck wants to turn in front of us, but we’re sorta in the way of their path, and we can see our light is green, but the 10 drivers in front of us are apparently asleep and not pushing the little square acceleration pedal. Cindy declared, “I have to decide. I have to decide!” Since nobody in front of us was moving, she put the car in reverse and made room for the truck to turn. The light turned red as we waited for the truck to get out of the way.

“I hope that was the right decision, don’t let it be wasted,” she grumbled at them as they turned, hoping that the accomodations she made would result in the MackTruck People doing something equally nice to someone else…..

Shaking my fist, I shouted: “PAY IT FORWARD, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

Cindy: “I’m gettin’ that tattooed ON MY ASS.”

It’s good having good friends, especially if you swear like sailors and smell like hot pancake griddles.