in the words of lou sedaris, “man, what you don’t know could fill a book”

Mr. Dangerous: “Did you hear that stores are selling bags of all-green M&Ms this year?”

Me: “Oh, for St. Patrick’s Day?”

 

for once i’m not procrastinating

I’ve actually been busy. Very, very, very busy. Life is good, it’s just extremely full at the moment. There just aren’t enough hours in the day to get it all done. Work, play, family, friends–there’s something going on every minute, it seems. Maybe I’ll have some downtime this weekend to take a breather and process everything, but somehow I think this weekend will be just as busy as the rest of them have been. Mostly I’m just never home to get online anymore. And now that I am, I think I’m ready for bed. It’s been a long two weeks and then some. So long, in fact, that I just don’t have the energy to even think about all that’s gone on. But soon. I promise. Seriously. Until then, I leave you with this, my vote for the funniest song on HBO’s “Flight of the Conchords.” Especially when you consider the original version was about climbing the highest mountains and swimming across the deepest oceans for love. If you’re not already watching the show, you should be. That is, if that’s what you’re into.

 

because i’m talented like that

So lately it seems that in addition to my already impressive ability to fall down a lot, I’ve also been developing several other highly marketable skills, including the propensity to knock over drinks at will on unsuspecting companions and an ineptitude relating to how clothing fasteners actually work. I’d like to tell you that I work hard at it, but, honestly? It just comes naturally. I don’t even really have to try. It’s nothing to be jealous about–some people simply have it while other people don’t. But, hey, who likes to brag?

Seriously, I am convinced that all of the buttons and snaps on my clothes should be replaced with idiot-proof velcro (and forget about belts–those jokers should be outlawed), that I should wear elbow and knee pads at all times, and that I should only be allowed to take my drinks out of a sippy cup, the kind with the rounded bottom that refuses to tip over no matter how hard you try.

Really, don’cha wish your girlfriend was hot like me? Because I know you wish she was a freak like me. Dare to dream, that’s all I can say. Dare to dream.

 

she totally gets points for trying

While having lunch…

“So, do you celebrate Chinese New Year’s?”

“Well, I suppose I would if I were Chinese.”

 

“we’re number…79?”

 

but it goes so well with all that tasty, tasty gator meat

 

do these pants make me look like a reckless driver?

“We’ve all seen them: The Makeup Artist. The Dedicated Investor. Mr. Change Your Pants While Driving.”

Thanks for bringing this up, Allstate. Seriously, right? I swear, if I have to see one more person changing his pants while driving to work, I am going to scream. You think they’d know by now that you’re supposed to arrive at your destination sans fabric covering your lower extremities. I mean, how many times does Britney Spears have to remind everyone? She’s all but making public service announcements every time she gets out of a car. So here’s a little new year’s resolution for all you sartorial multitaskers out there: ditch the pants, feel the breeze, and make the roads safer for us all.

 

you know what’s totally hot?

Driving around town with your driver’s side mirror duct-taped to the car door. Believe me, EVERYBODY wants to see who’s driving THAT car. How can you, too, become the center of attention to anyone and everyone who crosses your vehicular path? Simply break off your side mirror while carefully backing out of the garage as you attempt to–and this is the important part–try not to break off your side mirror while carefully backing out of the garage. Then, when your mirror breaks off of your new car, anyway, with a cringe-inducing crack to hang by two lone electrical wires, all you have to do is take your dazzling silver roll of embellishing adhesive and create a beautiful, yet functional work of art in an attempt to keep the mirror from falling completely off while you cruise across town showing off your killer new wheels. If you’re feeling really creative, you might want to spell our your initials with the duct tape. While you’re at it, you might want to add your phone number, too, because believe me, you’re going to be that popular. And you’ll know it, too, because you’ll get the opportunity to look at every driver and pedestrian around you gawking right back at you as you constantly pivot and turn in your seat every time you change lanes, merge onto the freeway, or back out of a parking space. It’s almost a shame to get it repaired in the name of “safety,” especially when that safety is going to set you back $300. Damn safety, there you go again, ruining everyone’s fun. Guess I’ll just have to drink it up while it lasts. I’ll see you (seeing me) on the road!

 

are you wearing your hawaiian shirt and jeans today?

I have to admit that this season of The Office has been hit or miss with me. Some of the things that happen are entirely too outlandish for me to believe, such as Michael kissing his gay employee after outing him, or the office holding a bird funeral, complete with live recorder music. It can be funny, but it doesn’t necessarily make me think that it’s anything more than a stunt played for laughs.

However, although Dwight’s crazy initation plan was a bit far-fetched (but I’m positive people like him do exist in the corporate world), last night’s episode was just about spot-on with its office humor. Pretzel Day? Brilliant. Where I work, it’s called Popcorn Day, and it’s held every Wednesday afternoon. I can guarantee you that if we had Pretzel Day here, the line in our cafeteria would be just as long, and people would be every bit as vigilant as Michael and Stanley about making sure people aren’t cutting ahead. And Michael’s sugar high from his ultimate sweet pretzel and subsequent hyperactive meltdown? Well, around here we have Treat Day Friday, and let’s just say I’m digesting frosted cookies and fudge bars and typing this at 150 wpm. And in about an hour I’ll be slumped over my keyboard.

Oh, and the squeaky chair debacle? Fantastic. My company has the exact same chairs (and, for the record, they’re the best chairs in the world), and I can see that entire scenario playing out in my department.

Now all I need is an episode about the guy who sleeps in his car in the company parking lot before and after work and during his lunch hour. I guess maybe someone needs to explain to him what “Casual Friday” really means.

 

you know you’re back in america when…

you can pull up photos of Tom Cruise’s progeny and Lindsay Lohan’s sight-blistering unmentionables simultaneously on the Internets while listening to the latest bubblegum hit from Jessica Simpson. At work. At first I was going to despair over voluntarily returning to such a crassly superficial society, but then I remembered that Cape Verdeans would be doing the exact same thing if only they had a high-speed connection. Oh, how different, yet still exactly the same.

To redeem myself, I bought a few books the other day and am currently slogging through Julie & Julia, about a woman who decides to make every recipe in Julia Child’s Mastering the Art of French Cooking over the course of a year. The book got great reviews, which is why I decided to buy it. Unfortunately, the writing is boring, the editing is terrible, and I’m sorry I wasted $14 to buy it. The book has very little do with cooking or Julia Child, which I wouldn’t mind, if it was at all interesting. Instead, the author blathers on and on about her oh-so-important blog (which recorded the project at the time, but could have been left out of the book entirely) and recalling verbatim the comments from her readers, which, zzzzzzzzzzz. Also, she loves using italics to emphasize every other word, which, after a while, just gets irritating. The author herself seems to lack basic humanity: she repeatedly refers to a disturbed woman as “a loon” as she witnesses the woman slam her forehead into the concrete ground in despair, and she calls comforting the families of the victims of September 11 “emotional shitwork.” I can’t understand why everyone supposedly loved it. I guess I can’t understand why I’m still reading it, either. I’d definitely recommend skipping this book. Anthony Bourdain, Ruth Reichl, and Frances Mayes are more talented and interesting writers (not to mention much better cooks) when it comes to food and life. Don’t waste your time on this drivel. I’m hoping the other book I bought, Ann Patchett’s The Magician’s Assistant, will be a much better read. And if not, well, there’s always the Internets!

 

finally friday

Oh my God, my new favorite show is The Office. I saw it for the first time last night, and sweet Jesus is it the shit, especially now that I’m back in the corporate world. Although, I’d have to say that I’ve never jammed handfuls of nickels into a co-worker’s telephone receiver and then removed them after said co-worker had gotten used to the weight, causing him to slam the receiver into his face due to the surprising lightness. At least, not yet.

Last night I randomly tuned in to MTV just to see what Jack Black was doing in his hosting gig at the VMAs and got to catch OK Go perform their treadmill routine live, which was totally entertaining. They did the entire routine in three-piece suits without making a single mistake. And I’m still impressed.

Today I’m leaving work early to meet up with an old college roommate who has a layover in Minneapolis on her way to New England for the weekend. I think I’ve seen her three times in the past six years, so I’m really looking forward to catching up with her for a few hours over dinner. I wanted to take her out for sushi downtown, but because her layover occurs before most of the good places open for dinner and because the holiday weekend traffic is going to be a bitch, we’re going to try Tiger Sushi in the Mall of America. I’m a little apprehensive, it being mall sushi and all, but I guess you never know. It is an actual restaurant and sushi bar, however, and not some joint in the food court, so it could prove to be somewhat promising. If it looks too frightening, we can always go somewhere else.

After I drop her back off at the airport it’s off to Red Wing for the weekend. It’s supposed to be rainy and cold all weekend long, so what better way to spend it than back at the blackjack tables? We’ll see if my luck holds up, and if not, well, maybe then it will be time to head back to the Falconer Vineyards. Have a good one!

 

why I don’t carpool

I was driving to work this morning when all of the sudden I realized that in no way was I even remotely headed toward work. In fact, I was headed in the exact opposite direction of work. Apparently, instead of driving to the office, I subconsciously decided to head to Chicago.

This does not exactly bode well for my sanity. Or does it?

 

weird science

Whenever I’m in a bad mood (which seems to be quite often, lately), I can usually find something on YouTube to cheer me up.

It’s not choke-on-your-beer hilarious, but trust me, it helped immensely.

It also helped that I finally got in touch with my friend Christine to catch up on life. She and I have the kind of relationship where we see each other a few times a year (she lives in Chicago) and don’t need to keep in contact the rest of the time at all in order to keep our friendship going. She’ll call and leave me a voicemail one day; I’ll return her call and leave her a voicemail four, maybe five, weeks later. She’ll return that call and leave another voicemail a few weeks after that and so on, until we finally connect out of the blue and catch up on everything that’s happened since. It may sound crazy, but it works for us.

On another good note, a group of us went to the Body Worlds exhibit at the Science Museum today (well, technically yesterday, since it’s past midnight). I’ll sum it up in one word: incredible. I didn’t think there would be as many complete adult bodies on display as there were–I thought there would be two or three, and there were probably close to twenty. All of the bodies had been Plastinated (a procedure in which fluid plastics replace the water in a body to preserve it) and fixed into life-like poses. The Smoker was smoking a cigarette, the Runner was running, the Chess Player was playing chess, the Gymnast was balancing on the rings, etc. The Bodybuilder was actually two models: his massive muscular system posed next to his complete skeletal system (yes, it looked as crazy as it sounds). There were also bodies consisting only and entirely of nerves, so that they looked like human forms molded out of thousands of bright red filaments. Apparently those models had been created by Plastinating the nervous system and then using acids to burn away the rest of the body tissue, leaving the plastic intact. I thought it was fascinating.

There were also sliced Plastinated segments of organs and body parts, diseased organs (cancerous lungs, brains with tumors), and limbs with artificial parts (such as a leg with a metal knee replacement). In addition, there was a complete section consisting of pregnant women, fetuses, and infants, including a Plastinated pregnant woman with her eight-month-old fetus still in her uterus. There were also embryos and fetuses at various stages of development, conjoined twins, and fetuses and infants with birth defects. I found this section the most disturbing, but also the most intriguing. After such an extensive look at the human body, I can’t imagine being satisfied with a simple model skeleton ever again. If you have the chance to visit the exhibit (currently in Minneapolis, Boston, and Houston, I think), I’d recommend it. It’s definitely not something you’ll see every day.

 

treadmills: they’re not just for working out anymore

Hate all that choreographed dance bullshit that somehow passes for a “music” video? Well, I’ve found something that may just change your mind. Meet OK Go.

Can you believe they shot that all in one take? Me neither.

I think I’m a little bit in love with them.