Et tu, The Bachelorette ?!?!?

I knew my eyes weren't fooling me [though I did have to rewind & pause to be sure...] when Jillian led her suitors on a staged scavenger hunt/chase through LA ... one of the clues was this note, left ever-so-tantalizingly in a tuxedo pocket. YOUR?!?!?!? Come on! I would have thought that a high-IQ show like this 67th show in The Bachelor series would have mastered the Queen's English by now. Guess not.

I'm 27, but I look 40.

Brain Age

Click START, then wait for the count down (3-2-1). Numbers will pop up randomly in circle, and then disappear. Immediately after, empty circles will appear. You have to remember where the numbers were. Your challenge is to click the circles in order from the smallest number seen to the largest number. After several trials, your brain age will pop up. (PS, the original is in Japanese, but there are English translations).

... oh, and now you've made me late for my mani-pedi, too. Great.

Yesterday I was sitting outside at Starbucks, watching a woman on a cellphone trying to parallel park with her left hand on the wheel and the right hand holding a cell phone against her left ear. It was not going well, even though she had a Hummer-sized slot to slide her Corolla into. I realized she was probably going to bump the car behind her, which was, unfortunately, my car. Here's how it all went down:

Me: Holy crap you guys, I think this
lady's about to hit my car. Watch. Watch, you guys. Watch her hit my
car.

Cha Cha (my girlfriend): Oh, she is totally going to
hit.

*bump*

*bump*

*bump* (that's her, nudging my car
backwards with the ass of her car)

Me: Holy everliving crap!!! (walking over
to car)

Bimbo Mother (stepping out of car): So I
said to her, there's no way I can get my hair done in 45 minutes and get to the
party on time, there's just no way! (her 2 kids come tumbling out of the back seat) I know, right? So then I told her ...

Me: YOU TOTALLY JUST HIT MY
CAR!!!!

BM: ... that if she could change my appointment to three,
then I could ... excuse me, what?

Me: YOU TOTALLY JUST HIT, AND PUSHED, MY
CAR!!!!!

BM: ... listen I'll call you back in a
little while OK? OK, talk to you then. Kisses! *click* (snaps phone shut) ...
what?

Me: YOU JUST TOTALLY HIT, AND PUSHED, MY
CAR WITH YOUR HORRIBLE PARKING JOB!!!!!!!

BM: (Tossing hair and jutting out chin):
Oh yeah, well, that sometimes happens when you parallel park.

BM's Kids: *staring*

Me: NO IT DOESN'T!!!!

Cha Cha: Not if you hang up the phone.

BM (to Cha Cha) (tuns, flips hair, juts out chin): Oh yeah,
well, this is my nanny's car, and she doesn't have Bluetooth in it, and I
needed to use it and I needed to use my cell phone, OK? (walks
away).

Me: *blinks in disbelief* : You are ridiculous. Go ahead, I'm staying here to take pictures of your car and get your license plate number.

Are. you. kidding. me. BLUETOOTH?!?!?!? YOU ARE BLAMING LACK OF BLUETOOTH?!?!?!?

Unfortunately, my car had no damage, or I would have called the cops. Also, unfortunately, I work in this town, so I didn't let the air out of all 4 of her tires. Could you see it? (Kids in cars driving by: Mommy, why is my science teacher kneeling next to that car's tire?)

Oh. my. god. FUCKING BLUETOOTH?!?!?!?!?!?!?

Spinning Girl Deep Cuts: Lies in Personal Ads (not that I would know)

"Easygoing"
[I'm just like everyone else, with neurotic and unpredictable hang-ups]

"Fun-loving"
[I'm just like everyone else]

"No baggage"
[I've had at least 4-5 good breakups, one of which involved crying for 5 hours]

"Work-hard, play-hard"
[I am lazier than shit]

"Outgoing"
[it takes a real effort to get out of the house some days]

"Sincere"
[I lie most of the time]

"Down-to-Earth"
[I am so bored with myself]

"42, but look 28"
[I look 42]

"I've never done this before, but it's worth a try! Here goes!"
[I've been cruising the 'net for love for 2.5 years, just not on this site.
But I want you to think I'm not a loser, so here goes!]

"Hoping there are a few nice guys / gals still left out there"
[I am still a raw, open wound and probably wouldn't be good for anyone right now, but I'm just so darn lonesome]

"Stable"
[Given to bouts of (a) alcoholism (b) passive aggression (c) verbal abuse (d) neurotic cleanliness (e) insert own dysfunction here: --- ]

"Close to my family"
[live with parents] or [15 years old]

Blue Rubber Gloves: A mystery in one act

Yesterday I was at a red light and, as usual, I started looking at people in the cars around me. You never know, I might see something interesting, like a fucking 14 year old sucking her thumb and her dad pretending not to see. Why was he not beating her senseless?!? celebrity!

On this day, I watched the woman next to me pull on a pair of blue rubber gloves. The light changed, and she drove away, so I was unable to ask her (which I totally planned on doing) why on earth she would need to drive with rubber gloves. The dishwashing kind, not the rectal exam kind.

I came up with the following scenarios to explain this bizarritude:

• She has some sort of allergy to pleather.
• It's a fetish thing. Hey, I don't judge, I just watch. Ahh-chooo!
• She was on her way to a dishwashing party, and running late.
• She was hosting a one-woman dishwashing party, in her car. The roaster pan was soaking next to her on the passenger seat.
• She had just Armor-Alled her entire dashboard, and was worried about slippage.
• She knew I was hard up for bloggy material, and wanted to help.

Whatever the reason, Ms. Rubber Gloves made my day. Thanks, crazy lady!

Repost: I'm Sorry

It really bothers me when people, especially women, apologize for no reason. For example, yesterday I was at the gym and I sat down on a bench to take off my sneakers, and the woman next to me said. “oh, I’m sorry.” I looked at her and said, “for what?” and she said, “for taking up so much room.” She wasn’t; only the amount of room that her ass covered, which was average-sized.

I started noticing a few years ago how often women do this, and it pisses me off.

My standard answer has become, “for what? Don’t apologize!” Maybe I can change the world, one woman at a time. But I doubt it.

Women apologize for taking up space. Even the way they – we – sit is apologetic, arms & legs folded to as small a shape as possible. I notice that men, when they sit, sit with their legs apart & take up as much space as possible. Without apology.

Or when women are in front of you in the grocery store line and need to put all their groceries on the belt to get rung up: “I’m sorry—I have so many things.” It’s a grocery store! I expect you to be buying food! And lots of it, because grocery shopping sucks ass, and you should get it over with!

If you step on my foot, run into my Achilles tendon with your cart (stupid cell-phone-toting cow), ding my car with your SUV, then you should apologize. Don’t apologize for being in line in front of me, getting to the door just before me, or breathing the nearby air. Really, it’s OK; you have a right to be there.

It bothers me when women act weaker than they already are. Although ... some women over-compensate for the implied vulnerability of our gender by being overly bitchy, abrasive, or tough. But that’s a rant for a different day.

For today, let’s focus on feeling OK about the fact that we live on this planet and to do so, we sometimes need a little bit of room.

We are too too too busy, so for now let's just say WTF?!?

What the .......................... f.

wtf.

WT Bloody F ?!?!?

From last week: I repeat, Infantilism: It's what's for dinner.

Furthermore, wtf:

Grab an oar ...

... and paddle along my stream of consciousness!

Monkey and the Spinning Wheels in January 2006

What follows is an excerpt from my internal dialogue between noon and 1 PM. I climbed into the Spinning Wheels and drove around town! Here is how much fun I had:

• Hmmm ... this construction has been going on a long time. I wonder if they will ever be finished?
• It seems like there's always construction in Connecticut, no matter where you go.
• Oh sure, Town Cop, I'll stop for you. Nice shades.
• You stopped me for that?!? Cutting down a 5' stump of telephone pole?
• Nice shades. Yeah, yeah, I see you waving. I'm a-comin', I'm a-comin'.
• Smile & wave. Thank you, Mr. Policeman! I like your vest that says "Spotter". Were you a "Safety Officer" in elementary school?
• Oooh, sushi here how? Score!
• This light was never here.
• God, it's gorgeous out. I need to open my windows!
• Dayumn, it's windy.
• I should take those Snapple bottles out of the back. If they clink together much more, they might break.
• Ooh, I need lipstick. There we go. Pretty me! Woah --- eyebrows!!! I wonder if Dove Spa waxes on walk-ins?
• I should blog this internal dialogue I am having. I wonder how many people will hate me. I think Miss Kendra did something like this once. I hope she doesn't mind me copying her.*
• I wonder if my internal dialogue is like everyone else's?
• I bet if I say "pubes" in my blog then people will automatically mouth the word to themselves.
• Oooh, hardware store! I need mousetraps. And a 2-prong halogen bulb.
• It's so nice out!!!
• Oh, nice motorcycle, asshat. You are way too small to be driving such a huge bike. Yes, we know you are manly. Wow, the way you rev that engine shows me how big and strong you are. Oh, here we go. Nice signaling, fuckstick. Goodbye!!!
• I can't believe they cut down all these trees to widen the road by five feet. What the hell?
• Let's go see if the new sushi place does takeout. I want some of those tempura crunchies.
  
  Thank you for joining us. Tune in next week as I drive to the dentist!

*[editorial comment: It was Brooke! Brooke! Brooke! My bad.]

Monday's gone, Tuesday's fadin', Wednesday's gone , Thursday's all but wasted now ... so I say WTF?!?

This reminds me of a story I once heard.


Andy Warhol bear?!?

I must report this.

Cuteness gone wrong.


I love when grownups dress like little kids.

Infantilism: It's what's for dinner.

no.

WTF

Thursday doesn't even start, it's Friday I say WTF?!?!?!?

Daylight Savings WTF?!?!?!?!

Meditations on a Fleeting Streak of Green (a.k.a. Reposting is in fashion)

I would love to see the Green Flash. Is that too big a request, sir? Hmm? Just once would be nice. One blink of emerald light to last a lifetime.

Is there anything lovelier than the chalk hopscotch scrawled on the sidewalk in front of the pizza place? Who plays hopscotch anymore? Somebody does, apparently … I love knowing that.

What is up with all the kids in wheelchairs in textbooks? I know it’s politically correct and all, but I counted 6 kids in wheelchairs in a textbook with 37 kids pictured. That’s like … a lot%!!!! In a school of our size (1100 kids), that would mean 178.4 kids in chairs. Come on now; let’s be a little more representative of the true population, people. And who wants to see 2/5 of a kid rolling around the halls? Not me. (I’ll explain the math later – shoot me an email and I’ll lay it out in color blocks for ya)

My friend B and I were talking about the childhood truths that come out in blogging, and then she shared that she used to make her boy doll and her girl doll hump. That would be OK I guess, if they weren’t Donny and Marie. Even though you know those two totally rode the pony. At least once.

I don’t really like the Beatles. I never have liked them. I know -- horrible. I have never admitted it before. Now please just punch my ticket so that I can go directly to hell.

My dad is so funny. And so very silly. He never says "bird". He always says "boid". He even went so far as to re-label the buckets of sunflower seeds for the birdfeeder. See? He also says, "when did you first loin of pork?" every time we eat pork loin. I scream every time, but I would miss it if he didn't say it, and wonder what was wrong.

On second thought ... there is no hell. Except the one we make for ourselves. Ditto heaven. This is what I think. Won’t I be surprised when I find out I was so so so wrong.

I think the line “driving the skin bus to tuna town” is one of the funniest euphemisms for sex that I have heard. Likewise, “laying cable” for pooping. Think you can do better?

I made up new words to the Nelly Furtado song “I’m Like a Bird”, and it went like this: “I’m like a turd, I’ll only float away-ayyyy … I don’t know where my home is … I don’t know where my bowl is …” I thought it was the funniest thing ever.

It may seem from this post that I love toilet humor, but generally I think that it is juvenile and I act very holier-than-thou when people break out their poop jokes in front of me.

Oh, and WTF?!?!? This just makes me angry. Ignorant assholes.

I decided it's childish and teen-like to have a crush on Johnny (that'll be Mr. Depp to you) so I have matured. It's all about Matthew MacFadyen now.
Is it me, or does Paula Abdul clap her hands like a goddam seal? I think she is a seal; I found photo evidence. [ps, It's sea lions that clap. not seals, but the word seal is just much funnier]

I sing in the car, but never the melody. I harmonize with every song that comes on. Such is the plight of the alto.

Every week I think, Oh …. I hope I make it to Friday. If I can just make it to 3 pm, I will be fine. Why do I think I won’t make it? Just what do I think is going to happen? I don’t know. I just need to hang in there, is all. Just keep hangin’ in there.