Why I will never be employee of the week...

In case you are wondering, this is probably not the most appropriate thing to do at work during a staff meeting.

Our staff meeting yesterday got off to a late start. And somehow instead of talking about all things professional and smart we began speaking of holiday stuff. This then turned to our favorite holiday movies and someone mentioned Elf. I love this movie and can quote it at the drop of a hat. So I said some of my favorite lines (such as, you sit on a throne of lies or I like to smile, smilings my favorite.)

Then someone mentioned Bad Santa and it was in this moment I lost all sense of decorum. There is a scene in that movie that makes me laugh every time I think about (it when the little person in the movie is asked to move a passed out Santa and he is curious as to how that will be accomplished). So of course I say it, forgetting the huge number of times f-bombs are dropped. Luckily I caught myself and only said fu... instead of the whole word, but everyone got my point. This scene is made even worse by the fact that I am also laughing so hard I am about to start wheezing and crying. This moves into a conversation about movies and gender preferences. As I come down from my laughing, f-bomb filled high I realize just how unprofessional I was in that moment.

Another thing that I probably shouldn't do at work is blog this story instead of writing a report. No gold star for me this week. Unless they are passing them out for most f-bombs dropped in one staff meeting, then I would for sure win.

Disease of the Week (it's more exciting and more reliable than my attempts at book of the week)

Last week there was a break from the sickness that invades my office. Maybe because I was only at work for 2 days. Well today Valley Fever walked into my office. I don't know what it is, and to be honest I am afraid to look. Looking up Scarlet Fever on WebMD scared the crap out of me. Instead of online Christmas shopping I think I am going to look for Hazmat suits. And possibly investing in the Airborne company.

1 large latte with 5 packets of sugar, 2 cinnabons, and 3 cheese on a stick-- it must be lunch time at the coast

While this wasn't my lunch it was consumed by my aunt while we were shopping (umm food court). I am sad to report I did not have a cinnabon this year. I was under some false impression that by not eating one cinnabon I would not gain any weight. I gained more tablespoons of butter than I would care to think about, but it was worth it. We went to a restaurant for Thanksgiving dinner and I swear they served donuts as the first appetizer. Most of my family is a member of the WW, and it became a donut massacre. One person only ate half of their donut hole and had to choose who would get the other half. It almost turned ugly. They also served chocolate chips, whipped cream, and cinnamon with every cup of coffee. It was delicious. If you can't tell I am back to eating sensibly, and it will take me about a day to not be so food obsessed.

My mini vacation was great. It took my father and I about 4 hours to travel to a place that is only 2.5 hours away. And no I didn't get to sleep a wink. But I did have a rousing conversation about the price of crops (sucks to be a farmer), and whether or not Hilary will be president (definitely maybe).

The coast was beautiful. Here at home it has been so dreary, spending 4 days in the sun was fabulous. I even got a back tan (I always forget to roll over when I lay out). The company was fabulous too. Everyone was in a great mood, and there was a lot of laughing. Even on the last day I was able to laugh as my uncle began to yell "everyone needs to just stop eating. How can we finish cleaning if you keep eating." To which I asked him to hand me something out of the fridge. Maybe you had to be there.

I also got to spend a lot of time with my cousins which I loved. At one point I was talking to a cousin about who she should marry, Kevin Kinkirk (from seventh heaven) or Brad Pitt. My cousin still sleeps with her parents, so my choice was Brad. Laughingly I told her mom, the new family bed could be my cousin, brad, his kids and her parents. Again I think you had to be there.

Another cousin also came with his 5 month old baby who is so adorable. He is a little Buddha baby and just had the best time being held by everyone. I know he loved me the best though because he threw up on me 3 times (I am taking that to mean he felt very safe and secure in my arms). We also had fun making up new names for the baby. Heavy lunch and bunch of lunch were my two favorites. I can't wait to see bunch of lunch again.

On our last day we went to church (and very early I must say). My father and I were a little late and standing in the back. I assumed we would stand for the entire service. During the last 10 minutes my father decides he wants to sit down. This was during a very quiet point and we totally disrupted this gentleman sitting at the end of a pew. We totally ruined his whole service, and when it came time to offer peace to one another, he did so very grudgingly. He then booked it right after communion. After the service my dad made a joke about how many people he could run over or startle by honking. We also laughed about how mad we made the guy who had to move. Not our holiest moment, but it was funny.

The drive home went by a little faster. It only took us 3.5 hours. The funny part is that we stopped for a half an hour when we were about 10 minutes from home. 10 minutes. I had a good snowman cookie though, so I have no complaints. I miss it already (the coast and the snowman cookie.)

So far I have lost 576 tablespoons of butter (which is how my friend measures her weight loss)


I have to share because I am excited. I have been on Weight Watchers (or the WW as I like to call them) for almost a year now. I haven't been the best at it (trying to follow points and study for finals is more than my brain can handle). But I am pleased to say that as of today I am only 6 pounds away from my first goal. Here's hoping I can resist eating 4500 calories worth of stuffing (my biggest thanksgiving weakness). I am working really hard (or thinking about working hard) to reach a goal by May (when one of my good friends gets married). If I have to go to the wedding alone, then I would like to be a little skinnier (and richer, and tanner, but those are really beyond me). Anyhoo, I had better go back to packing. We haven't left yet for the coast because of the fog outside, and I have not packed a thing yet.

Are We There Yet???

In about 20 hours I am headed for my Thanksgiving vacation. Me and my dad driving to the coast where most of my family will be spending Thanksgiving. I am so excited I can't even stand it. Here's to a 4 hour car trip with Murph, driving to a place that is only about 3 hours away (Murph likes to take his time). I like to believe I will get to sleep, but no doubt he will bring up some political something and I will get mad. I am also hoping we can listen to music this trip. He's a talk radio kind of man, and that is nothing more than a form of torture for me. This year I am bringing a secret weapon. I have 2 Beatles cd's and I know by playing them I will get the history of each song, at least it's not Rush Limbaugh.

I can't wait to see the ocean, but the best part of this trip is that for 5 days I get to spend time with my family. I always feel so busy with work and school, so to just be able to sit and talk with my grandmother, or play with my youngest cousin (who's like 5 months old and a total Buddha baby) is a blessing. I love that we have a huge dinner in a restaurant somewhere. Hopefully everyone has a great meal (lets not forget the French fiasco that was last year). But even the bad meals are wonderful because of the company. I also love that on Friday we will go shopping, and every year I have ideas of grandeur. I think I am going to get all my Christmas shopping done, but in reality I will probably only get a cinnabon (for myself, not a gift).

I hope everyone has a safe and happy Thanksgiving. I hope you have great food and better company, and of course, a cinnabon on Friday.

I want to leave you with this thought. My coworker just came in and told me that on average people eat about 4500 calories during Thankgiving dinner. Yummy.

"Maybe Scarlet Fever. It's a better color for Christmas"-- A Christmas in Connecticut



Since beginning my new job a lot of my clients have been sick. It started out slowly with a cold here or the flu there. Then came pink eye, and my office was scrubbed down and Lysol'ed for the greater good. So I come into work today (all the while counting down to Wednesday when I leave for Thanksgiving break), and I find out my client with a fever last week who went home early had SCARLET FEVER!! WTF is this???? Sounds deadly.

Okay so I looked it up on WebMD and it is form of strep throat (the form that Beth got in the Little Women). On that site it never talked about adults getting it, but even writing that just feels like a dare to the Gods.

I am frightened of what the next two days will bring. I am guessing Monkey Pox. Anyone else care to make a guess? I think next year I will try and work for the CDC. What cracks me up is that no other person in this office has seen the sickies like I have. I must be sending out a message to the universe.

A Moral dilemma

WWYD if....

You had a really expensive bottle of lotion...
You bought it but realized you couldn't wear it because the smell made a migraine worser than worse....
So you offered to give it to a friend...
And then your cleaning lady came...
And moved it....
You didn't know she moved it...
And you accidentally knocked it in the toilet....
But the toilet was exceptionally CLEAN (thanks cleaning lady)...
You fished it out real quick...
And the top was on the whole time (and no water got into the lotion as far as you can tell)...

So...
Do you still give it to your friend (without telling her), because you know that if you tell her she will throw it out and you HATE wasting money...
(and this post does not apply to anyone local who reads it- I promise!!!)?
So how would you handle this....

I may be smart, but I'm no Nancy Drew (or the mystery of the sweet smelling dead lady)


Well I finally figured out the maple brown sugar oatmeal smell (in case you were wondering). I couldn't shake it all night, and to be honest I was beginning to worry. In my head this could only mean one of two things: a) I was either having an olfactory halluncination, which is not good. Or b) I had some strange disease that, as my body is slowly decomposing, (and my eyes begin to melt away) lets off a sweet oatmeal smell (I would have hoped it would be called Quakerbola and not Monkey Virus #5), which would also not be good. There's worst case scenario's, then there is what I come up with.

The smell turned out to be neither a psychotic break or Quakerbola. Rather it was the ear drops I put in my ear last night. Weird that my ear drops smell like breakfast. But I am glad I am not dying.

Oh and something funny for my local readers. Every Monday night one news station asks local doctors what they are treating most that week. Most doctors said strep throat and the flu or colds, but one doctor actually said strep throat, flu like symptoms and Chlamydia. The news caster then stated, "Chladmydia is the number one most common STD." I guess having oatmeal smelling ears isn't so bad anymore.

"Tiger, I can't sleep" (alternate title: I think Death smells like maple brown sugar oatmeal)


When I can't sleep I think of that episode from Kipper in which good old Kip has insomnia. I went home early today because I woke up feeling crappy. All muscles aching and upset stomach. It seems everyone in my family has the flu, but I haven't been around them so how the heck did I get sick? I made it as long as I could and then went home an hour early. I took a hot bath and tried to sleep but I kept waking up. At 9 I conceded defeat and got out of bed. Weird but I kept smelling what I thought was maple brown sugar oatmeal. I can't figure it out, since I haven't eaten oatmeal in a week. So my best guess is death is following me. Or maybe my sense of smell is off and what I am really smelling are the muffins I made yesterday. It could really go either way. I am going to make my second attempt at sleep. Wish me luck, as I have to wake up early to make up for leaving early.

Ebay here I come...

I have a lot of crap. Crap that was given to me by my mother mostly, although some other "gifts" I have received from friends and other family members are making it into my crap pile. I wasn't sure what to do with it, and finally decided to try selling it on Ebay. I have no experience selling things on Ebay so any advice anyone has is greatly appreciated. And if anyone is looking for gold moccasins size 10 drop me a line. Here goes nothing....

It's Shat-rageous!!! (alternate title to this post: ("You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means" -the Princess Bride).



I was all set to write this depressing post about my family life. My day was not great to begin with: it started off with me taking a walk and seeing a used condom on the ground (okay that was gross and a little funny if I am being honest). Then I went to vote, and I totally forgot my practice ballot and I forgot how I was going to vote on some issues and voted wrong. Then I had a sinus headache that wouldn't go away. It all cumulated in a phone call to my mom. I made the damn call so I have no one to blame but myself, but it was still sucky. My mom is not doing well today and talking to her for 15 minutes almost made me cry the whole way home. So here I am driving depressed, and trying not to cry and I swear every song on the radio was sad (Thanks to Barenaked Ladies, The Fray, Daniel Powter, and Matt Kearney for the music). In a way it helped (I sang it out), but my mood didn't improve until I made a great meal of spaghetti squash with marinara, mushrooms, and Italian sausage. So maybe the depressed feelings could have been explained by intense hunger (and the freaking fact that I am once again doing weight watchers, and all I want is a quarter pounder with cheese), or the fact that I am PMSing like nobody's business (I have already cried on the way home from work a few nights over the last several days). Either way drive home sucked, and I was sad. I was just beginning to blog about my great saga of a day, when I heard this phase on ABC advertising William Shatner's new game (Show Me the Money): "You don't know Shat!" Wait...What did they say...Doesn't that mean what I think it means?!?!? The commercial went on to talk about how it was going to be "Shat-rageous!" and "Shat-eriffic!" By now I am snorting, but not 100% sure this means what I think it means. So I looked it up on dictionary.com and here is the official definition:

Based on the Random House Unabridged Dictionary, © Random House, Inc. 2006.
American Heritage Dictionary - Cite This Source
shat shitt) Pronunciation Key
v. Vulgar Slan.
A past tense and a past participle of shit.

Yep, I was right!!! Thanks ABC you made my night. When I am sad or depressed in the future I am going to think "shat-rageous" How in the hell did this pass through the ranks of ABC to become a national commercial? I am still smiling. Even though the election results in my state are starting to come out and so far the man I want for Governor and Lt..Gov. are not winning. All I can say is it's freaking shat-eriffic!

Driving Miss Emily


I will admit that I watched Oprah and Gayle's big cross country adventure with a sense of wonderment and awe. How cool would it be to travel cross country with someone you love? This has been on my list of things to do before I die for a long time now. As of Sunday my list of potential people to travel with shortened by one. I could barely make it 12 hour adventure with my mother (Emily), traveling only 3 hours away from home.

My brother's birthday was Sunday. He is a year younger than me (we are Irish twins) and he lives about 3 hours away from me with his girlfriend and her young son. My mother called me last week and asked what I thought of driving up to see him for his birthday. I wasn't thrilled with the idea to say the least. But I knew she would need a driver so I told her I would drive her up if she wanted to go. I made guesses to myself the night before about how much longer this trip would take, because my mother likes to stop a lot for smoking and bathroom breaks. Without fail she will also need to stop where the only thing around is the grossest/scariest place to try and urinate without picking up a random toilet disease.

Well we left town only 45 minutes off schedule, after convincing my mother my car didn't need to be washed because it was only going to get dirtier as we travel. She also travels with her special blend of soda (1/2 black cheery vanilla coke, 1/2 diet rite in case your interested in the recipe), carrying enough for a two week adventure.

The way up went pretty smooth. At the second stop she decided she wanted breakfast, Jack in the Box here we come. I don't eat a lot of Jack in the box, and never have I had their breakfast, but I think I know what to expect. Teenagers taking my order who give really give a flying you know what, food made quickly also by someone who could care less, and a sense of bloating after consuming the 3000 calorie breakfast sandwich. Here's what I encountered but did not expect from Jack; about 3 million flies trying to bum a free meal (both in the restaurant and outside, my theory is someone killed Jack and his body is slowly decomposing by the fries), the man/boy who took the order to then wipe his nose on his sleeve several times (thanks be he did not touch Emily's food), and to wait 15 minutes for a breakfast sandwich to go). I felt ill watching mom eat her fried egg sandwich. Thanks Jack.

We made three more stops before we eventually hit our destination. Once again mapquest left out pertinent information regarding my driving directions, but being on to their tricks, I called my brother's g.f. at the first sign of trouble.

The family lunch went as well as can be expected. My mother is in a place of remembering the past, which can be heart warming and funny. Like, "remember when you and Kevin threw my spanking spoons away, so I couldn't spank you anymore?" (true story, and while the spankings were never reportable or anything, to this day I can't have a white plastic spoon in my kitchen) or "remember when you (my brother) sold all my gold necklaces to kids in the neighborhood for $1 a piece?" Ahh the memories. At one point my mom asked my brothers g.f. how her tootsies (feet) are doing (since she is pregnant with twins more to come). I heard my mom say it, and I knew what she meant, but I also know it sounded a lot like titties and that is apparently what the g.f heard, and what she commented on. I sat in between them, frozen in my uncomfortableness trying desperately to reach my happy place. Finally we all had a good laugh about the misunderstanding, and it's safe to say we all know more than we should about her ta-ta's.

Not to eat and run, but I was so tired after lunch, and knew we had a long drive ahead of us, all I wanted to do was leave. But first we had to have cake and icecream back at their place. I also got to watch as my brother gave my mom hid g.f.'s old shorts and state they were her old maternity clothes, but we think they'll fit you. I laughed inside at my brother's lack of good taste, and knew my mom was pissed. We left about 2 hours later than I wanted to.

The ride home truly was hell on earth. The nice thing about everyone getting together is talking about the past, but with my mom it also dregs up all the bad memories, and she has no filter. So for an hour and some change I listened to the complaints. I finally was able to change the subject but I was in a bad mood, and my mom was still in a negative mood, so everything else she brought up was negative. My mom also chose to stop in places that made the scary Jack in the Box look golden. At one stop I stayed in the car (because I thought it would get stolen) and almost saw a gang fight. I was also tired of facing disgusting bathrooms and made a pledge to hold it till I got home (and by sheer bladder force I did).

I finally made it back to my home some 12 hours after my trip began. I was totally drained and ready for bed. But then of course I couldn't sleep. But at least I survived this trip.

Happy Halloween!!

So far I have baked 9 loaves of apple zucchini bread and made 5 caramel apples (3 of them being chocolate caramel apples). The sad part is none was for me. It was all for my co-workers and my landlord. As a child this was one of my favorite holidays. I loved dressing up and I really love candy. One of my favorite memories from college was going to see the Rocky Horror Picture Show on Halloween. I even dressed up. At the time I thought I looked very sexy. Considering my college dress was jeans and a sweat shirt, it was sexy for me. But looking back at pictures I can really see what a prude I am (smile). No slutty Halloween costumes for me.

I hope everyone has a safe and fun Halloween! If you are in my neighborhood I will be passing out candy with Murph (aka dad) so come by and say hi!

As I was finishing this post I found out that someone at work has pink eye, and the carrier monkey was all over my office yesterday. That is not a nice treat at all. I really hope that my costume this year does not involve gunky, infected eyes!

What's my age again?

In my family I think it is safe to say I am closest to my father. He and I are similar in temperament and enjoy many of the same things (such as community service and Broadway plays). We disagree on politics (he continues to believe that Schwarzenegger is the best thing to hit California since Junipero Serra), and radio stations (he sees nothing wrong in taking a 4 hour car trip listening only to AM stations, while I would rather carve my own eyes out), but he is a great guy. A great guy with a horrible memory, that is. It is well known that he can't remember the names of people or products, but I always thought he remembered the important stuff (like my name and age). How wrong I was. So last week he called me up to tell me he met the dean of students at my high school. Did I remember this person? No I did not. "That's okay," my dad says, "he didn't remember you either. But he asked what year you graduated, so he could look you up. So I told him late 80's." I started laughing, and asked my father, "How old do you think I am? You just added 10 years to my life!" He said he remembered that I graduated from high school in 96, and he just said the wrong date, but apparently he sees me and thinks 38 and not 28. Nice.

Analyze this...

For the next 28 weeks I have to attend therapy (it is a requirement at my school to graduate). I have been wanting therapy for a while but money is always tight, so I didn't start till I was 30 weeks away from graduation. My first session was last week, and I think it went well enough. I did this nervous smile the entire hour and well at some points it felt more like a facial tic than a smile. Nice. We mainly did the intake interview. So this week we finished the intake, going more into detail about my family. At the end of the session my therapist looks at me, looks down at her notes, looks at me again and says "Wow. I mean this is...Wow! Well at least we'll have a lot to work on." I mean don't get me wrong I know my family is crazy, but crazy enough to make a therapist speechless?!? This made me laugh the whole way home. I think I am going to enjoy being therapized.

A Funny Thing Happened on the way to the "Argonne" Party...

So this Friday was supposed to be the Arbonne party. I excitedly invited everyone I knew, and imagined the fun. Not in my imaginations: everyone but 2 people canceling because of a conflicting party (can foot scrubs really compete with beer and karaoke?). And then losing the 2 people to illness. So Friday night turned into being me and my dad having dinner at Bakers Square (I was impressed with the salmon). My father has also taken to calling "Arbonne" "Argonne." The funny thing about my dad is that with a lot of people and products he will be like one letter off. It cracks me up. Before this he spent about three weeks calling Bono from U2 Bono like Sonny Bono. I try to correct him and it doesn't help, so now I go with it.

I also had a great weekend hanging with my cousin and her two young children. After spending all week working with dysfunctional families or families in crisis, it's nice to spend some time seeing parenting done right. She never sees how great she is with her kids, she only sees the tantrums and crying in church. But I can see how quickly she is able to calm a tantrum, or how calmly she can handle a screaming child. She also takes real joy in being with her children. Most people take that for granted, that parents will just love to play with their kids, but that isn't always so. She is a wonderful mommy and I hope to be like her someday.

Book of the Week...



Because of my work I read a lot of children's books. My book of the week is one that I have read a few times this week. I am a big fan of any book that can slip the word "diarrhea" into the text. I enjoyed all of Jamie Lee Curtis' books, but this one has kept me entertained throughout the week (maybe it's just the anticipation of parents reading aloud to their kids, and then getting to "diarrhea"--makes me smile just thinking of their reactions).

True Story... And if you like spiders don't read further...


So a few nights ago I was driving home from work. There is a lot of road work happening on my drive home and a big concrete wall to my left. I am driving along minding my own business, probably singing along to "The Fray" when I see something out of the corner of my eye. Oh hell to the NO! It was a spider swinging from it's web about 5 inches from my face! I am extremely arachnophobic. I mean really scared of spiders, even little ones. I contemplated crashing the car, I mean it would mean death to my little eight legged friend, but I may get hurt, so no. Then I decide to chance it. I say a little prayer to the patron saint of car alignment, take my eyes off the road, and attack the spider with a Kleenex. I think maybe all I did was throw Kleenex at the spider until I knocked it off, but either way it was away from my face. I then spent the last 30 minutes of my drive convinced there were spiders all over my head. I must have looked odd driving down the road periodically hitting my own head.

My First Time...



I had been waiting for my first time for as long as I could remember. I would hear my parents talk about it, and knew that was what I wanted to do. I was really jealous of people who did it in high school. I didn't turn 18 until I was already into my first semester of college and I remember my first time voting like it was yesterday.

I was so excited. Sure that my vote was going to make a huge difference in the world around me. I remember the polling booth was somewhere on campus (probably the library or the cafeteria) and it was a presedential election year, so I was really excited. Clinton was going to win for sure thanks to my vote. For a long time I was passionate about voting. If you want the world to change, you have to let your voice be heard.

I am alot more cynical about voting these days. My goal now is simply to cancel out my dad's vote. That has my voter responsibilty, and we now see who can get to the polls first. I am disgusted by the negative ad campaigns that almost everyone has these days, and by the fact that no matter who seems to be in office, nothing seems to change.

But then every couple of years around fall I begin to hope again. I start to think, "well maybe this year will be different." And I begin to imagine how my vote will change the world. Better schools, better health care, better mental health care, better roads, better politicians. Who knows maybe this year it might just work. I still think that if I want to change the world I have to let my voice be heard. Let your voice ring out too. Go out and vote.

Of taking walks, betting the ponies, and a trunk full of skin care products




Now that the weather is getting colder, I have decided to take a walk every morning (well except this morning because I needed sleep). I have taken about 4 walks around my neighborhood over the past week. I wish I could tell you about all the beautiful trees and leaves changing colors. Or even about how pretty the sky looked. I saw none of that. I am a klutz, and as such when I walk I am constantly looking down. I have to watch where I am stepping or I will fall (hell even when I watch where I am stepping I fall). I love talking walks, and maybe someday I will be able to tell you about the world around me. I won't hold my breath...


Last Friday I went to the horse races. I was so excited for about a month leading up to this. I am not into most sports. I don't get them and I don't really want to get them. My brain can only absorb so much, and I would hate for it to get full on the rules of basketball. But I love horse racing. I have never ridden a horse, and to be honest they kind of scare me, but I think horse racing rocks. I don't know if it is the speed of the horses, or watching really small men race while I eat a corn dog, or maybe even watching those same small men race in hot pink jersey's with flowers and lightening bolts. Either way I love this sport. I went with some friends and we had a great time. I taught them my betting strategy (I'll tell you too- I match all my colors up, if one jockey is wearing red, then I am going to find other jockeys to match his, or I pick all the oldest horses in the race, it's very scientific stuff). Needless to say I lost all my money. And because my friends used my system they lost all their money too. But I loved it. In the box next to me was this old man who every time a race start would scream obscenities and endearments at the horse. My favorite was when he shouted "Don't you fucking lose! Don't you quit me!" Very Seabuscuit meets Brokeback Mountain. And all of this was shouted at the top of his lungs as he was sucking down a cigarette. Ah the magic of the races. I always come away broke, and yet I can't wait for next year.


And lastly, my cousin is selling Arbonne products now, and she has got a couple more cousins to go in with her. Every time you turn around there is an Arbonne party happening somewhere close by. So I have gone to all of them (hello free foot scrubs). I promised my cousin she could have a party at my dad's house, so I was talking last night to confirm plans with him. And he is convinced that my cousins are trying to unload all this merchandise they bought. I tried to explain that it was like Mary Kay and they don't actually have any merchandise on them, but he kept talking about how they need to unload all their stuff fast. So basically my dad thinks that Arbonne is just a big gang of girls with great skin who sell other girls (with not-so-great skin) merchandise at a discount out of their trunk. Works for me.