Tremendous Blondette

Saturday, August 23rd, 2008

I am the center of the universe.

Here’s why:
My day started with coffee and a trip to Weston. I managed to knit an entire 2 rows of my scarf (yay me!) and attempted to fix an iPod issue, but failed. (boo me) I was informed that I knit incorrectly, but I think it’s charming. My items stay together, so that’s really all that matters. Free-style knitting is the way to go. We had lovely girlie conversation, watched creepy synchronized swimming, ate a delicious breakfast, and chugged coffee–wait, I was the only one chugging the coffee. (I just realized this Saturday is my Saturday to host the group! I need to come up with a breakfast idea! Suggestions will be taken seriously. Last time I made Cheesecake Pumpkin Muffins–basically pumpkin muffins with a cheesecake-like center. They were de-light-ful. Of course, I’ll have freshly ground coffee- yes, I grind my own beans!)

I went home and continued the excitement-train by cleaning my kitchen. Stay with me because this really does get more interesting than knitting and cleaning.

But not yet.

After cleaning the litter box (uh huh) and vacuuming I made myself presentable to the public and headed out to Zona Rosa to meet several of my friends for our evening plans. After some nifty shopping (sale at Bath & Body Works woo! and Old Navy gave me a crafting idea that I may follow through with simply because I couldn’t make a decision), we headed to dinner.

As we were eating dinner (Chinese Please!) we noticed a group of men in Top Gun t shirts. Gee, I wonder what the deal is?! We enjoyed the swarm for a moment and then moved on to a new topic. While I don’t remember specifics, I do remember having a great time and something to do with princesses.

To wrap up the dinner portion of my story, we opened our fortune cookies. Oh mysterious cookie! Oh wise confection! Tell me what is my fortune!

“Investigate new possibilities with friends. Now is the time!”

Ask anyone who was with me that night, I was on my game. I was vivacious, vibrant, and hilarious. No one doubted that anything interesting that was happening was because of me. Like the Sun, I was the center of gravity. (did I just call myself fat?)

Level of interest rising yet?

On the way out of the restaurant, who do you think we saw? Yes, it was the Top Gun group. “There is a story here!” I thought. “I must know why they are all wearing Top Gun shirts.” Slider has greased back hair, Wolfman is wolfy (awoooo werewolves of London! awhoooo!) and the rest are sorta hot. Hellooooooooo, gentlemen! Who wants to take me to new heights?

I was determined to ask them why they were wearing the shirts. I skipped along excitedly as we followed them to the parking garage (we were going to drop off shopping bags, not stalking thankyouverymuch) where they took the stairs down and I lost my shot at satisfaction. Or did I?

As the Top Gun crew loaded into their chariot–a white, 15 passenger van–we heard music start up.

Revvin’ up your engine
Listen to her howlin’ roar
Metal under tension
Beggin’ you to touch and go

Highway to the Danger Zone
Ride into the Danger Zone

If you got a random text message or two from me that made absolutely no sense but seemed to contain crappy lyrics, here’s your reason why. Our night became all about the Top Gun boys. (Why is Kenny Loggins responsible for more than one song on the Top Gun soundtrack?)

As we walked into the bar at the Majestic, I turned to my friends and said “It’s really quiet in here. I’m the loudest person in this room.” And then I promptly began singing “You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your liiiipsss.” It was somewhere around this point when I decided I’d missed my opportunity with the Top Gun boys, but I wasn’t going to miss my opportunities to make the night interesting or draw attention to myself. Yes, I made it my goal to be noticed by the comedians we were there to see that night. I’m just as funny as they are. (yes I am dammit.)

There is a part of me that is a performer and she was ready for a show. After some great one-liners in the line-standing process (this post was nearly called Katie Waits in Line: A Story of Survival or something silly that I thought was really clever at the time) we were seated…front and center. The MC and opening act finished their sets, then the opener for the headliner came out. This gentleman was from the South and made me laugh in earnest, but I was just biding my time until I could make my move. Finally, toward the end of his set, the opportunity presented itself and I swooped into action.

“So I’m at the park with Chewy,” he began.

“Use his full name!” I chanted. (yay me!)

“Last time I checked I wasn’t married to you. ..(other stuff I dont’ remember exactly that he said to me in response to my comment),” returned the comedian.

I WAS AWESOME!

Soon after, the headliner, Ralphie May, took the stage. First, homeboy was HIGH. Like whoa. You cannot blame that on a bum leg Ralphie. We all know you enjoy the pot and your eyes do not turn that color or take on that appearance because of a sore leg. Once he warmed up and got in the groove, things improved. (yeah, sorry but he started slow–though I guess in some cases that’s not bad -know what I mean? wink wink–please tell me you heard the accent on that.)

My recent fame fading, I waited for an opportunity to make myself Ralphie’s new favorite fan. I’m funny enough to hang and hold my own with comedians. Sadly, Ralphie’s become really good at ignoring the audience unless you’re a crazy drunk girl who makes no sense when loudly blurting out non-sense. (not talking about me)

Seredipity was on our side though. Not only did Ralphie May mention Tom Cruise in his routine, but he also made a Top Gun reference. The circle was complete. I was fulfilled.

Long story short? I’m pretty special. Saturday was fun. And the Majestic makes really weak drinks because all of that stuff I just told you about? I was sober.

Admitting error is not always easy. Particularly when you thought you had already made it clear that the fault was yours. I’m an emotional, but controlled person. At least, I think I am. I refrain from yelling, crying, or reacting in an emotional manner 99.9% of the time when I could react quite differently. (Don’t get me wrong, I can throw a fantastic tantrum when I choose to. I present to the people exhibit “I hate St. Teresa’s Academy and want to go back to Park Hill”-let me rip up my uniform skirt and trash my room and beg and cry and scream. Yeah, that was a fun time.) I work in high stress conditions (I know cry you a river) and find myself in the face of confrontation, accountability, and decisiveness, problem solving-solution finding daily. It’s that double-edged sword I love and hate.

Lately, as I’ve progressed into management, I find myself included in conversations I was not previously allowed to add to. There is also a perception that I’m uncomfortable or upset in these situations. I wish I could broadcast to people that I’m really quite tough. I can handle being yelled at. I can handle reprimand. I can handle less than rosey truths, tough decisions and pressure. Yes, goodness gracious, I do have self-control in one area of my life. Praise be my emotions will not get the best of me! I even had to address this with my boss. “I make faces,” I said. “I’m usually just thinking.” and it may just be thinking wistfully of the lovely venti (skinny) vanilla latte that is sitting in the other conference room getting cold or that has already been consumed. (or I’m trying not to fart)

Today was a rare .01% day. I lost my cool.

Please note this isn’t titled yelling “at” your boss; no, it is yelling “with” your boss. That’s right. He yelled, I yelled, we yelled in unison. There were pigs in a blanket, dirt pudding, corn dogs, and juice boxes. (We even had Pin the Tail on the Donkey, but did not get to partake in the funness.)

Instead of storming out or brooding, I’m working through the emotion and channeling it into something productive. I also have a special talent for forgiveness and repentance and moving on. I once got yelled at in front of the entire staff during a Monday morning meeting. I can’t tell you how many people came up to me later and asked if I was okay. I remained calm and collected and resolute. I rose above. I knew the reality of the situation and what I could and could not control. In fact, I even went on to volunteer to lead the book club discussion and did a brilliant job. I wanted to show people that one can overcome and not be controlled by the temper and actions of another. I could easily have cried, crumbled, or walked out or hidden. I’m still proud of that day.

So here I sit wondering “where has my day gone?” (yes, that’s to the tune of Carrie Underwood’s song “Last Name”)–smelling my pants that have picked up an odd odor from my washing machine because I forgot to let the reservoir dry out between washings. Nearly 13 hours after arriving at the office, I am still organizing the chaos. (I did take a Silly String and Bouncy Ball break to decompress.)

I thrive in these situations. I like fixing things. And I just happen to have a few things that are in need of repair.

I’m a tough old bird. (really, I’d make a terrible Thanksgiving dinner) Do not underestimate me.

This lady might be kind of crazy, but my cats were all searching for the other “cat” when I played the clips, so either she recorded real cats, or she’s just that good.

Crazy Cat Lady Talks to Cats aka Cat Whisperer

I’d love to hear from anyone with dogs about how they react.

I’m running Wordpress version 1.5.2. For those of you who know nothing about Wordpress, they’re on version 2.6.1 now. I’ve never upgraded/updated my Wordpress since initial install 3 years ago. That’s not to say I did not try.

Yes, tonight I tried to upgrade to a newer version of Wordpress as there are new features, fixes, and goodness to be had. However, I am apparently too stupid to complete this upgrade. To the best of my knowledge I did everything correctly, yet I was still not upgraded and linked my content in my db. I know enough to have been able to login and make sure I did commit the ultimate fuckup of deleting my database (I was freaking out as though I had though.)

Anyhow, I’m not attempting an upgrade again on my own. I have too much to lose and I just spent a good 3 hours freaking the fuck out.

And to think, it all started because I wanted to install a Twitter plugin that required newer versions of Wordpress! (mine is circa 2005)

There are few shows that I can watch in marathon fashion repeatedly. The West Wing is one such show. Not only does it bring back memories of a different, maybe happier family time, but it is so witty and clever that you can find something new every time you watch. And you know what, it’s just that good. Yes, so good that I can listen to the same quips and still be tickled a-fresh (see also LOLcats.)

I desperately miss this show and want to own the entire series on DVD. (only $172.49 at Best Buy! That’s a good $37 cheaper than Target and WalMart!) I was going to ask my family for the complete series on DVD for Christmas, but fear I will not hold out that long. (Unless a certain wonderful, awesome older brother reads my blog and takes mental note!) I am even contemplating purchasing one season today to feed my appetite (they say denying yourself what you want is worse than having it in moderation. In this case, I would like to agree with They, but cannot. It would not be economically responsible for me to purchase the whole hog at this time, even though when one does the math, one discovers that each season only costs $25 when purchased all together, as opposed to $37-$45 when purchased individually–yes, over $300 for the entire series if you buy it piece by piece.)

Remember when Bravo used to run marathons of The West Wing? or when they showed it at all? It’s truly sad that all I can watch on Bravo now are crazy reality (suck-me-in-against-my-will-damn-you-can-you-see-me-shaking-my-fist!) shows.* Perhaps I should be petitioning Bravo to bring back the best! Bring back The West Wing. It would be appropriate you know with our presidential election upcoming in November. (Have you seen Joe Biden’s Wikipedia picture? He could be making millions in denture care endorsements-and other senior products. Actually, he’d be great as the older guy in Fruit of Loom or Hanes commercials. And it was probably a good move for Obama’s campaign to choose a long-term senator to balance the newness that is Barack Obama–imagine, checks and balances in government and politics!)

Who’s with me? Who wants to gorge themselves on delectable détente, debate, and drama? Potus is waiting.

*Project Runway I LOVE you and you are exempt from this classification.

Dear Sephora at JCPenney on Skyview (aka, super close to home),
I want to thank you for your EXCELLENT customer service today! You were so helpful! I really appreciated the way you ignored me and offered to help other customers. I also really liked the way you looked at me when I was “in your way” as I was shopping the vast selection of delightful makeup items*.

It feels good to know that I can walk into a store not looking my best (no makeup) and still be treated well. You saw past the capris and Peeps t-shirt and saw the potential of $100 plus sale. Thank you!

The other customers were also super considerate. In fact, I didn’t mind moving for everyone else when they happened up to the row of merchandise I was inspecting. Nope! NO PROBLEM! Let me just get out of your way! No, it’s okay, it doesn’t matter that I got here first! Please, reach around me and push me out of the way. I like it.

*the only part of this that is not sarcastic is the vast selection of delightful makeup items. They had so many lovely things that I wanted to buy. Too bad for them. *sigh* I really wanted that eyeshadow.

Real things I’ve yelled at my cats in the past 10 minutes:
“AHHH! THAT’S MY BUTT!”

What I ate for dinner:
several mini candy bars at my desk in the office

How I feel right now:
my head is starting to hurt, I’m tired, and kinda hungry

Weirdest thing I saw today:
a cat claw on my bed

Things I remembered to do that I thought I’d forget:
set my out of office auto reply message for tomorrow, sign up for Twitter and see what all this tweeting is about

Today is my worst hair day of the week. Lately, I’ve been doing a great job of achieving well-styled, full-bodied hair. (see also “Vacation Hair.” Imagine, Vacation Hair during the work week! It involves these things called “effort” and “caring.” I know, I was confused at first too.) I deviated from my newfound routine today and used only my flat iron after blow drying. Mistake. I have a crappy $11 flat iron and no flat iron spray. My hair did not maintain. I suppose it could look worse but I’ve grown accustomed (to your face).

Now I’m sitting at work enjoying the peace that comes only in the early morning or late evening when the office is virtually deserted. It provides that coveted focus time. Even at home I don’t get this much focus because my cats demand attention. (have you ever tried to work with kittens climbing on you?) I’ve discovered an error in sourcing and billing and am now tracking the needed changes. Luckily, it doesn’t mean we’re eating cost. (heart attack avoided)

Tomorrow I’m taking a vacation day. I’ve decided to use the day to cancel my Y membership and rejoin my old gym, the North Kansas City Community Center. I just finished reading “Such a Pretty Fat” by Jen Lancaster and it reminded me of the things I used to think and feel. I’ve even toyed with the notion of getting a trainer, but feel I’m not quite ready for that. I do know that I make too many excuses for myself and I need to stop. I have control of my actions and my decisions. I do not have to cope with work stress by eating in a less than healthy manner and lounging. Oh, but lounging is delightful. *sigh* At least I’ve stopped drinking away my sorrows.

Anyway, I still have some recommendations to make and I must finish this reconciliation. Ta for now.

Well, really he owes all of the men who joined him on the relay teams, but the most noticeable is the anchor man in both relays, Jason Lezak, whose fast touches meant gold and history for Michael Phelps. (What, you think Phelps has anything to do with winning 8 gold medals? ha.)

I’ve watched bits and pieces of the Olympics this year. I’m most fond of swimming and gymnastics (yes, I know that’s what everyone likes) and diving is tolerable. Unfortunately, I usually get home from work, eat dinner, sit down on the couch to watch the coverage, and promptly fall asleep. I awake to find that I would rather crawl into bed.

Luckily, I have managed to see the major swimming events (YAY TEAM USA!!!). In so doing, I decided to follow a new path in life. I shall become a groupie for the men’s swim team. Have you seen these men? Have you seen how they move in the water? Have you seen how much they respect each other? My plan really consists of me losing about 80 lbs, accidentally almost drowning (which would be more like really drowning because I quit swimming lessons when I was 5 because they were going to make me jump off the diving board and I already hated being under water) and just happening to be at their training facility where I will be saved by one or 5 of the nation’s most talented (and gorgeous) swimmers. One (or 5) of them will undoubtedly fall in love with me and I will become the core of the team–helping them to achieve even more greatness.

Kidding aside (I wasn’t really kidding), I think our athletes are phenomenal and it’s wonderful to see them actualize their dreams. In fact, I’ve actually cried more than once while watching event finals. (The first time was during women’s cycling-it was raining and the roads were windy and hilly and their tires are so narrow! I don’t know how they didn’t all fall. I sort of blame the crying on hormones because I’ve never cared about cycling and don’t find it fun to watch, and I alternated between wanting to punch people and wanting to hug them all day. Still, watching someone accomplish a lifelong goal is pretty amazing.)

I learned that hoping someone wins will not jinx them (I may have been slightly superstitious, but it never stopped me from actively chanting and cheering at my TV. )Ask my parents about this one. They got to watch Saturday night’s events with me. Let’s just say, I get a little edgy and nervous and I hate when the commentators hype and dwell. I just want to slap them and yell “YOU’RE GOING TO MAKE HIM/HER/THEM LOSE! SHUT UP AND TALK ABOUT THE WEATHER!”

Tonight, I saw part of an interview with Michael Phelps and his mother (conducted by Bob Costas.) It was lovely to hear him speak of his appreciation of his mother. Bravo, young Michael, bravo. Just remember, there’s no chocolate in those medals. (call me!)

PS. Alicia Sacramone–you were jipped on vault.

Copious

Definitions of copious on the Web:

* large in number or quantity (especially of discourse); “she took copious notes”; “a subject of voluminous legislation”
* ample: affording an abundant supply; “had ample food for the party”; “copious provisions”; “food is plentiful”; “a plenteous grape harvest”; “a rich supply”
wordnet.princeton.edu/perl/webwn

* Great in quantity or number, profuse, abundant; Having an abundant supply
en.wiktionary.org/wiki/copious

* Abundant or productive.
www.modot.mo.gov/northeast/archeology/glossary.htm

* ample; abundant
www.gradesaver.com/classicnotes/titles/augiemarch/terms.html

* abundant; large in number or quantity
quizlet.com/print/170756/