My Hair is Sometimes Misleading

Co-worker: So what's happening?
me: Very little. I lead a boring life.
Co-worker: Yeah right.
me: No, I'm serious! I don't do anything, ever.
Co-worker: Yeah, but you don't do it with flair.

It's Still 'Happy Birthday' To Me

So I have been 30 for nearly two weeks now. I am now officially too old to be trusted. I'm both old enough to know better and too old for this shit.

I was having trouble finding inspiration for my 30th birthday recap post. "You know why?" said my co-worker, BrownsFan. "It's because if you blog about it, then it must be over. You can't blog about it because you'd have to admit that it wasn't your birthday anymore. You can't write about it. You'll never be able to. You'll never blog again."

"Hmm. Well," I replied, "I'm certainly blogging that."

Amberance: Dead Sexy

MrSteve: Oh! Vampira died!
Me: Who?
MrSteve: Maila Nurmi.
Me: [blank stare]
MrSteve: Did you see 'Ed Wood'?
Me: No.
MrSteve: Oh. She was one of his favorite actresses. She played a vampire. A vampire with an outfit cut down the front to her waist.
Me: Well if I was a vampire, I'd wear an outfit cut down to my waist. Because, realistically, once you're the undead, who do you have to be modest for?

Wow, I AM a Huge Geek

The agent (attempting to quote from The Empire Strikes Back): No, that one goes here and this one goes there.
Me (accompanied by pointing in the appropriate directions): No no no, THIS one goes THERE, THAT one goes THERE.
The agent (shaking his head at me); Who am I to say?

Mr. Smith Steve Goes to Washington School

MrSteve finally made good on the threats he's been making for as long as I've known him and quit his job. So for a number of weeks now Melle, the bartender and I have been experiencing "No Rant Steve". Where once we could count on our Thursday nights being filled with vitriolic anti-Bush, anti-sports or anti-traffic discourses peppered with lists of reasons why everyone he works with should kindly perish, we are now subject to mock-ignorance of the daily grind ("Work? I don't understand this word you are using.") and cheerful recollections of his free time experiments ("I made my cat yawn!"). He's very happy now. It is oddly disconcerting.

This confusing change of disposition may or may not continue. MrSteve has decided to use his break from gainful employment to obtain a Masters degree. He's been very excited about this, whereas I've been very excited about the prospect of his being assigned homework. For some reason I'm quite amused by the whole going back to school thing.

Today MrSteve came downtown to have lunch with me before heading over to the library in hot scholarly pursuit. "Have fun at school," I quipped. "Do you have your backpack? Do you have your sack lunch? You don't want to miss your bus!" I started skipping in place, pretending to be Steve on the way to school with his lunch bag.

He glared at me. "I was bringing lunch in a bag and taking the bus before you were even BORN!" he retorted. This is 100% true.

"Wait a minute," I said. "Is that supposed to be insulting to...me?" I am, after all, about to turn 30 in five days.

He paused to think. "Damn it!"

It's good to have you back, MrSteve.

Update From Yesterday

While admiring an artists rendering of a court case with my co-worker just now, I announced "I want a drawing made of my head in court!"

Yeah.

I Wish I Had Something To Post

One of the many odd quirks of my personality is to wish or declare that I want things that are either completely ridiculous or downright impossible for me to have or be. This becomes more noticeable as one spends greater amounts of time around me. Such as the agent, poor thing. I am lucky in that he finds this amusing and keeps threatening to start a list of the Most Ridiculous Things I have ever wished for. Some recent examples:

• I wished I had an Oompa Loompa.
• I wished I was an Oompa Loompa.
• I wished I had a beard.
• I wished I was a cartoon.
• I want to play the calliope.
• I want a tiny light saber to use for carving roasts.

I should probably add to this list that I want to be taken seriously.
In other MUCH more important news, I will be turning 30 on Saturday with much fanfare and abundant celebration. I expect you all to wear your virtual party hats.

2007 In Review

I have resolved to make no New Years resolutions for 2008. So therefore, if I accomplish anything this year, it would actually make me a failure. And who wants to be a failure, right? Exactly.



I did, however, accomplish quite a bit this year. To recap:

• I learned how to make a french silk pie from scratch. Prior to this, I though french silk pie was a proprietary pie of Baker's Square and that the recipe was a closely guarded secret, like the formula for Coke, or the inner workings of the Daley administration. It's not though. Plus mine is better.
• I moved. Into an apartment with its very own jacuzzi tub, which is great, a crazy drunken next door neighbor, which is not great, and across the street from a candy store, which can only be described as dangerous.
• I read 48 books. This is a mere two more books than Heather read, as she nearly caught me at the end. Among my favorites: a re-read of The Count of Monte Cristo, The Kite Runner (trendy novel readers of the world, unite!), Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, and The Great Gatsby, which I somehow managed to miss reading in high school. Heather has invited me to "taunt her a second time", so let Reading Challenge 2008 begin! I am about to begin book #2.
• I got myself a boyfriend. The agent is responsible for such things as finding my apartment, pointing out that I am a HUGE geek after I recited Star Wars: A New Hope for him in its entirety, 10 extra pounds, my first visit to New Mexico, learning how to meditate, trips to go get pie halfway across town at 11:30 at night (he will tell you I am actually the one responsible for this. Many of the truths we cling to depend greatly on our own point of view.), my addictions to The Office and Flight of the Conchords, a great deal of singing in harmony, much childish giggling and a general sense of happiness and well being. Why didn't I think of this before?
• The Browns finished the season 10-6, and beat the Ravens twice. While this probably doesn't count as a personal accomplishment of mine, I did relearn how wonderful it feels to root for a football team that is actually adept at, you know, playing football.
• I hosted my first Thanksgiving. This involved another accomplishment of mine which is roasting my first turkey. The event got rave reviews. My inner Martha Stewart stills glows with pride.

I plan to have many weird adventures to blog about in 2008. Stay tuned.

What Happens in Vegas Gets Blogged on the Internets

I've just come back from Las Vegas and I have to say, I am more than a little bit shell shocked. Now, I've been to Vegas before, a number of times actually, and other than the propensity for middle-aged women to don velour pant suits for the duration of their trip (Seriously, what is the deal with this?) I have a pretty good understanding of the place. This ain't my first rodeo. But I saw more strange things in one day than most people see in a year. Snow notwithstanding, I was relieved to come home.

The purpose of the trip was to see Social Distortion and Mitch Fatel. Mitch Fatel didn't happen due to his not showing up, but despite the illness of Mike Mess, Social D performed at the House of Blues as scheduled. Let me just say that HOB Vegas is lame. The bartender and I were forced to surrender our studded belts because they weren't allowed. I am not certain what damage security thought we were planning to cause, but I can assure you, our only goal with them was to hold up our pants. I found it interesting that we couldn't wear our belts inside, but that a kid with a broken leg on crutches was allowed, not just into the show, but into the pit. Sure enough, we later saw him being carried out by security screaming in agony because he'd gotten hurt in the pit. After paying $7 each (!) for a freakin' Coors Light, we got into a conversation with a couple of girls (who were wearing the same kind of studded belts that we were told to check). It was during this conversation that a kid came stumbling by us in a gigantic parka. He was obviously impaired as evidenced by his erratic gait, but as he passed on his way to the pit we were left in no doubt. We all watched in horror as Parka barfed into his beer cup....and then drank from it.

This was merely the icing (or vomit I guess) on the cake for the day. We happened to arrive on the day of the Las Vegas Marathon. As such there were myriads of people wandering around with what appeared to be giant pieces of aluminum foil. I am sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for this, like that it reflects the sun away from you keeping you cool, or possibly gives you super powers. But anywhore, as the bartender and I sat in traffic with our guide after a lovely lunch at Fatburger, we saw a bum laying underneath one of the giant foil thingies in the middle of the sidewalk. At first glance he appeared to be sleeping. On closer inspection, however, there seemed to be some movement occurring underneath his shiny blanket. I also noticed that his left hand seemed to be jammed pretty far down his pants. A gust of wind blew the blanket up and that's when we all simultaneously realized that the guy was masturbating right there on the sidewalk. From the backseat, I was the only one who had a clear shot of his head, and let me say he was sporting quite the impressive "O" face. The bartender immediately began calling everyone he knew. For my part I fired off a text message: "Ah Las Vegas...where you can watch a bum jerk off right in the middle of the street. Which I just did." I finished just as he did, I assume based on him extracting his hand from his pants and rolling over on his side for a nice post-monkey spankin nap.

Later in the trip I drank some ass juice at Double Down and bought a Christmas CD there featuring songs like "Santa Was a Cross Dressing Nazi", "Imo Shoot Me a Reindeer" and "Santa Blow Me".

But the masturbating bum...yeah. Just....yeah.

Necessity is the Mother of Plausible Deniability

H-town: any recommendations for what movie i should rent tonight?
amy's not around, so it can be violent.


me: i recommend pornography. or the Lion King. either way


H-town: they're so similar, though
*vomits*


me: you know what might be good? put on the Lion King with the sound off, and then play the sound from a porno. you know, like The Wizard of Oz and Dark Side of the Moon. Only, you know, way more funny.

H-town: wow
i'd love to have amy come home and see that
"What...are...you... DOING?!"


me: "research on animal husbandry" - there, you're covered

I Have Watched Questionable Things

I saw Blade Runner at the Music Box Theater with the agent and MrSteve this week, and boy golly, is that movie an interesting piece of strange. Also? Having your eyes smushed into your head until they turn to jelly and blood seeps out of the sockets does not seem like a particularly good way to die. But I digress.

Blade Runner was released for the first time in 1982 and was set in the future. I love movies that are set in the future because I like to know ahead of time about things that are going to happen, as evidenced by my annoying habit of firing a barrage of questions at people who are trying to enjoy a film in peace. The great thing about Blade Runner though is that the future it is set in happens to be Los Angeles in 2019, a mere 2000 miles and 12 years away*. Here is what I have learned is in store for us:

• Los Angeles will be overcast and rainy 100% of the time. MrSteve attributes this climate change to global warming, I think the weather just decided to become more appropriate. The weather is no fool.
• Additionally, the skyline of Los Angeles will be completely unrecognizable from what it looks like now and will be dominated by a pair of gigantic buildings shaped like Aztec pyramids, but that look like the Death Star or a Borg cube close up. I have to question the aesthetic tastes of today's architecture students.
• Almost everyone in Los Angeles will be of Asian descent, and apparently poor street merchants selling noodles (or information).
• Good news! We are, at most, only 12 years away from flying cars. It appears though that law enforcement will have the first crack at them.

There is one other thing I've learned from sci-fi movies, not really about the future per se but more of a life lesson. Themes from Blade Runner, the Terminator movies, Transformers, the occasional Futurama episode and Steel Magnolias** all seem to be trying to teach us the same thing: DO NOT BUILD SENTIENT ROBOTS. Even Star Trek, where we have a fine example of android perfection in Data, teaches us this lesson in his evil brother Lore who is constantly trying to kill people. I think there is little hope that if we give robots consciousness that they are going to like us and agree to be our slaves. If you give a Roomba a sense of individuality and then tell it to suck up the dirt you tracked in on your filthy shoes, you run the risk of having it choose to suck up your face instead. We've been warned.
*Mileage may vary depending on where you live.
**This is not mine. The credit for this hilarious joke belongs entirely to Heather. Thanks :-)

At Least I Know Where I Stand

The bartender and I are watching a rerun of the Top Chef reunion/viewer's choice show, which he has already seen.

Bartender: So who do you think wins? It should be obvious.
Me: Should it? I have no idea.
Bartender: Come on, who do you think people will vote for? Which one would people choose?
Me: Well, I would vote for whoever I thought was funnies-
Bartender (interrupting): No, not you. People!

Happy Halloween

Here is a pumpkin that I've carved for you (well, for my roommate and also my own self-gratification, but the nice thing about jack-o-lanterns is that they can be enjoyed by everyone):

For those of you not obsessed with Mike Ness, he's supposed to be this guy:
I think we can all agree I'm very talented at this, even if I've become an extremely lazy/terrible blogger.

Football

Suck it, Ravens.

Everyone Needs Loving Friendships

E-mail to the intern this morning: [Coworker] says, "Speaking of douches, how's [the intern]?"

E-mail from the intern: I would say that is probably one of the top ten worst ways to strike up a friendly conversation.



Anyone have suggestions for the other nine?

If That's Moving Up Than I'm Moving Out

My boyfriend, the agent, is getting ready to move next week, and I'm not sure I like the change in neighbors. Right now he lives next door to a guy I call American Idol. American Idol amuses the hell out of me. I've never seen the guy. I have heard him though, because he sings very loudly, very badly and very often. He really means it too. He sings huge epic Celine Dion type songs in a wobbly vibrato that is only slightly off key. His music is best enjoyed from the bathroom which seems to be directly opposite his bedroom. He will be missed.

On the other side, there is La Casa Fiesta. They always have something to celebrate, which they do by encouraging the kids to run around half the night to the sounds of pre-recorded mariachis. I frequently have inexplicable urges to go out and buy maracas.

Directly above the agent live the Lead People. At first I assumed giants must be living up there, based on the heavy sound of their walking. Then I saw them coming up the back stairs and they appear to be normal sized. This is how I surmised they must be made of lead, because their outside appearance couldn't account for the extreme loudness of their footfalls. I told the agent about it and urged him not to lick them; understandably he balked at this comment, as he's not in the habit of licking his neighbors.

Though all these people can be slightly annoying at times, such as when I'm trying to sleep, they are all quite charming compared to the new neighbor I encountered on my first visit to see the new place. After the agent took me on the tour we went out the back door. I looked up and saw The Biggest Spider I Have Ever Seen In My Life*. "Ok," I said, "THAT has to go or I am never ever coming back here again." Even the agent, friend of all living creatures, agreed that it was exceptionally huge. I ran from the porch like it was on fire and stood by the car watching it spin its GIANT web. The agent came to check on me, but I had already crossed the threshold into full on crazy: "Look at it! It's as big as my fist!" The next time we went over it was gone, but I don't know. You can't trust those monsters.

All in all, though I'll miss the vocal stylings of American Idol and head shattering percussion of the Lead People, as long as the spiders stay away, I'm very excited about the new place. Stay away from me spiders.

*Live. Thanks to Eric for the e-mail containing a photo of a camel spider from Iraq. That thing was like a freaking lobster and the sight prevented me from eating for an entire day.

Avast, Land Lubbers!

Today be Talk Like A Pirate Day. Go out and get some grog me hearties.

Slide, Slide, Slippity-Slide

Apparently Coolio has been doing what he does just to survive, because today is his birthday. He is 44. I find this amusing because I sincerely thought he was younger, and also because I feel like he shouldn't even have a birthday at all because he doesn't seem like a real person.

I learned this startling piece of information on the Captivate Network, which for the non modern high rise working set, is a news service that appears on tiny screens inside of elevators. It struck me funny that Coolio's birthday was included as a piece of news today: Is today a slow birthday day and that's the only celebrity they could find, or is the programmer stuck in a time warp, still listening to Coolio albums unironically more than halfway through 2007? It's a mystery.

As usual, the best part is the thing that is happening in my head. Because I keep imagining people coming up to Coolio yelling "Happy Birthday!" and reaching to give him a nice birthday hug...but his hair keeps poking everyone in the eye.

Happy birthday, Coolio. I hope you are still having a fantastic voyage through gangster's paradise.

Amberance Is Losing Her Touch

H-Town: yo
me: word
H-Town: what up?
me: just work. you?
H-Town: the same
bored
me: that should have been "just work. et tu?"
H-Town: heh
me: it would have been funnier
H-Town: you failed
way to go, loser
me: NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
H-Town: *ends friendship*

Moderation In All Things...

Except Cheddar Chex Mix, where I am apparently compelled to eat the entire bag.