Tuesday, August 31

Feeling guilty
Please don't call the animal police on me. But this morning I whapped Dom with my pillow. I gave him a good one. He had broken the #1 cardinal rule in the house: don't mess with my sleep. EVER.

All night, he was up in the window right next to my head, but he wasn't just sitting there demurely looking out like our other, model citizen cat does. He was scratching the glass with his claws, he was up on two legs, jostling everything on my nightstand, and at one point, he stepped on the "on" button to my clock radio, so just as I was drifting off to sleep last night, it was as if my alarm was going off. My husband, the rat bastard, slept through the whole thing.

So this went on for quite some time last night. I just drift off, and Dom comes back to the window and makes some kind of racket to wake me up. Drift off, wake up. Lather, rinse, repeat. Finally, out of sheer exhaustion, either he cut it out, or I was too tired to notice, and I slept peacefully, until about 6ish, when again he went for the window.

Which is about when I blew my top and shooed at him with the pillow. After that he would tenatively come back in the room and if he so much as heard the bed creak, he shot out of there like a bat out of hell. But by then I was so agitated, that I got up anyway.

These cat antics have got to stop. What do they think, they rule the roost?

Monday, August 30

Bits and pieces
  • The inside of my car smells like skunk. Not sure why. I passed a dead skunk on the road; maybe the smell got sucked into my car's exhaust or whatever part filters the air into the car. It is of stink.
  • The snack drawer has been filled to bursting. I bought a pack of the Captain's Wafers rather than the Toast Chee that I usually purchase.
  • One of the things that I dread most about becoming a parent is having my son or daughter want me to take them to a horrendously bad movie, such as "Super Babies: Baby Geniuses 2" or whatever the hell that shit is. I will consider that a failure as a parent to have a child who wants to see that crapola.
  • Our cat, Peepers, decided for the first time ever last night to try and sleep on the bed with us. Unfortunately for me, she decided to sleep on my head. With her tail right next to my nose, so every time I inhaled, I breathed in tail. Fortunately for me, this arrangement didn't last long, as Dom came and attacked her and chased her away. Then peace and tranquility ruled the household... for about five minutes.
Staying hip (or as close to hip as I can muster)
Although lately I've been finding that I am more in the target audience of VH-1 than MTV, I still make a point every year to watch the Video Music Awards (or VMA's as the hipsters call it). I was an MTV junkie from early on, when, in second grade, we got cable, and my babysitter and I would while away the after-school hours watching videos by the likes of Culture Club, Duran Duran, and Cyndi Lauper. The VMA's were always a highlight for me, every year.

I have continued watching it, just to stay current with what's going on with the young people these days. This year, I find myself on the cusp of not caring anymore. I still know who most of the nominees and presenters are, but am not a fan of (most of) the music. I watch for the outfits, for the drunkenness, the swearing, the outrageousness. Even that was disappointing. I didn't see the whole thing, though.

And you'd think that MTV would write some good copy for the presenters to slosh through. But no, they don't. Example. Oh, here's Tony Hawk and Ashlee Simpson! They banter about how cool the set is. But Tony feels it is missing something. Wow! Tony Hawk is going to skateboard on the set! The audience goes apeshit for this! Maybe I just don't get the whole Tony Hawk thing. Get a real job. Like, as an accountant or something.

Maybe next year I won't watch. I'll be tuned in instead to the "I Heart the 80's Strikes Back" marathon. That's some good stuff.

Friday, August 27

While we're on the topic
of food (I may as well declare it to be "Food Friday" but then I'd really get in trouble with Grace) ... I have a question for all of you fast food aficionadoes. I have been hearing good things about the Taco Bell burrito with potatoes in it... is this something worth getting? Taco Bell REALLY scares me. I used to eat it a lot in college, in fact, one week, I got Taco Bell every day for a week, and then after that, not so much.

I may make a border run tomorrow while I'm on my errands just to test out this burrito. Unless I am instructed not to do so by some jaded burrito eater.
Have it your way
Today was my once a year pilgrimmage to the fantastic eatery known as Burger King. Why once a year, you may ask? Well, my friend, I'm fairly certain that visiting any more than that would kill me.

And, I noted a curious phenomenon. My drink of choice is Diet Coke. (I prefer Diet Coke to Diet Pepsi, but I prefer regular Pepsi to regular Coke, but that's another story for another day.) Today, however, I thought to myself as I waited in the drive-thru, "Self, you know what would be smashing?" "No, self, what is that?" "Well, self, a Dr. Pepper would be smashing, since you asked!"

But every time I get a Dr. Pepper, it's not as good as I think it's going to be. I have them so infrequently that I build up the deliciousness in my mind and then am disappointed. Does this happen to anyone else? *hears crickets chirp*

Allright then. Just me.

Thursday, August 26

And so... because we have nothing to post...
I'll steal the birthday meme from Tuna.

Stubborn and hard-hearted. Ambitious and serious.
Loves to teach and be taught. (I like to teach things to myself but HATE having someone teach me things)
Always looking at people's flaws and weaknesses. (See Hamster Time)
Likes to criticize. (See Hamster Time)
Hardworking and productive.
Smart, neat and organized.
Sensitive and has deep thoughts. (See this blog)
Knows how to make others happy.
Quiet unless excited or tensed.
Rather reserved.
Highly attentive.
Resistant to illnesses but prone to colds.
Romantic but has difficulties expressing love.
Loves children.
Has great social abilities yet easily jealous.
Very Stubborn and money cautious.
Oh for crap's sake. I just created a post about nothing and, twas eaten by Blogger.
Blogger, I fart in your general direction. Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries.

Wednesday, August 25

The "nothing's new" report
It's one of those weeks. Recovering from the same blah which seems to have afflicted Tuna.

I went to a dismal Indians game last night vs. the Yankees. Nothing against Yankees fans, but you're idiots. I'd say the crowd was about 60/40 Indians to Yankees fans. And the Yanks fans were loud. And obnoxious. And idiotic. You DO NOT come to an opposing team's stadium and start leading cheers without getting a royal beatdown. I was aghast at the balls of these New Yawkers. Yes, we suck. Yes, we have now lost nine games in a row. So, what's your point?

Work is picking back up, I have a couple of large projects that I'm working on, which is a welcome change from working on NOTHING for the past month and a half. Now it's all coming at once, natch.

At the moment I am trying to remove the (blue) background from a photo of a woman with REALLY curly hair. So in between her curls you can see the background. I have to zoom up realllllllllllllllllly close up and try and erase out all the blue in between the strands of hair. Good times.

Monday, August 23

Pimp juice
Did you miss any of last week's broadcast episodes of Big Brother? If so, you're in luck. It just so happened to be my week of recapping the broadcast ep's. So run on over to Hamster Time and check them out! Here, I'll make it simple for you, check them out... here.
Munch this
So I read that Edward Munch's painting, Scream, which is featured on kerjillions of coffee mugs, mouse pads, McCaulay Culkins and t-shirts worldwide, has been stolen from a low security museum over the weekend.

Hearing about the painting reminds me of a class I took senior year in college called "Madness in Society." It was one of those bullshit classes that have nothing to do with your major but is required to graduate. Not that class in particular, but a group of classes specifically made for seniors... not that it matters. I took the class, thinking that it sounded really interesting.

To its credit, it occasionally was, but not on purpose. The professor came up with the most boring topics imaginable, one of those being the life of Edward Munch. And he made sure to pronounce it "Edvvvvard Mooooonk", which, I'm sure is how it is actually meant to be pronounced, but god dammit, this is A-Mairica, and here in my country, we call him Ed Munch. As in ass munch. To help us further understand the life of Edvvvvard Moooooonk, we watched a movie on his life. A FOUR HOUR movie. Longer than the Titanic, people. Gilligan and his cronies took their tour shorter than the Moooooonk bio. I couldn't tell you much about his life because I have banished it from memory, but I'm certain that it involved a rough childhood, alcoholism, being misunderstood, and dying prematurely. Did I not just describe every artist's life? Well, there you go.

The only cool thing about the class was that we got to do presentations on topics of our choice, involving madness. Most memorable was the presentation by one of my most favorite eccentrics of my college career, a cat we liked to call Mike Cubed (there were three Mikes on that floor in our dorm, he was the third) who was famous for being bald at age 21, having a fondness for the word "nads," and wearing a t-shirt to the dining hall that said, "This is what 40 looks like." Anyway, Mike got an entire class period to dissect the Batman comic book series and actually did so so intelligently and humorously that it made sense. What it had to do with madness I'm not sure.

I did my project on voyeurism, by the way, which should surprise no one.

I'm feeling a bit under the weather. Still. I missed two days of work last week. But fear not, I'm here today! Already driven insane! Kindly Old Granny Admin is figuring out how to use a stop watch, so it's beep! .... beep! ... beep! beep!... beep!... beep! beep! .... ..... beep! Much beeping.

KOGA is cool. I haven't talked about her before. She keeps all of us in line. She will tell you you are a nincompoop but in the sweetest granny kind of way. Except this one time, we were talking about "The Apprentice," and she got all mean and said she hated Donald Trump. "I mean, I just don't understand what's so great about him," she said. "Fatty."

I'm not sure what that meant, but coming from KOGA I'd say it was a high insult.

Other times I will go over to her desk and she will be staring out the window, smiling. Once, I asked her what she was looking at and she said, "Oh, it's so lovely outside, I just want to take my shoes and stockings and go frolicking in the grass!"

I swear, my random thoughts are about cheese and who would win in a fight -- Count Chocula or Frankenberry -- and hers are about flowers and bunnies.

I just realized, I have now nicknamed everyone in my office. Oh wait, there's still one person I haven't nicknamed. She's on maternity leave though, so she doesn't count.

It's someone's birthday today, I can't remember whose. So happy birthday, whoever you are.

Thursday, August 19

I am sorry to see Will go, especially in the lame-ass alleged "coin toss" manner in which it happened.

But Nakomis as HOH rocks my world. There isn't a better person to be HOH than this week. Big Booty Judy and her evil twin better watch they asses!
Urgent: Beano Stick Update
This just in. I have found an article which explains the Beano stick. Did you know that it is more commonly called a "gee-haw whimmy diddle"?

Personally, I prefer the moniker given to it by Mose.

For all of you beano stick fans, the article is here.

And can I just say, that if I knew where to find Mose, I would totally track him down, stalk him, and force him to hang out with me. He kills me.
Survivors, ready!
Green Tuna did such a rousing job of lambasting the new crew of Survivor contestants that I am going to just let you read her take on it, and say, "what she said."

I am decidedly meh on this season. A bunch of meatheaded military guys and chicks who are models...

On a good note, the promos that CBS are airing feature Rupert and his Man Roar. I never get sick of that.

Tuesday, August 17

I love the reefers
Here's another recent referral:
jase big brother what kind hair gel

Poor, disoriented internet searcher. It's time for an intervention. The Jase look, it's BAD, it's BAD! Don't do it. Go toward the light. Stay away from the flat iron. It's going to be ok, little pup.
The Sketch Factor
... But he's got a rather large... personality. And next week, Trashelle claims, while drunk, to be in love with ... Buddy from Buddy’s Carpet. Andy Dick. Fran Dresher. Regis and Kelly ...

This is an excerpt from a recent search of "Andy Dick and Trashelle" which I think is quite amusing.

Monday, August 16

Makes you think twice about who you put in office
Former Cleveland area mayor found naked by the side of the road.
Desperate times
I was feeling snacky, so I checked Ye Olde Snacke Drawere to see if I had anything munch-worthy.

To my dismay, all that was there were some not-so-gummy bears. Those things were rock-hard when I bought them sometime last week.

Yeah. I still ate them.

Many internet surfers have stopped by in search of "beano stick."
Although I know what it is, I have no further information, other than what I've seen Mose do with it on "Amish in the City." And that it's damn wicked cool.
Color me shocked
No really. Smack my ass and call me Suzy. Bad Lady just informed me that she is going to be "too busy" to go on our planned (for months!!!!) "Creative Day" next week. Hmm, this doesn't have anything to do with her dislike for Screech, now does it?

Nor did her disdain for Screech factor in when we went out to a paper vendor a few weeks ago and her "hectic schedule" wouldn't permit her to go. Her schedule is about as hectic as a slug's.

Furthermore, I'm sure that the fact that she feels ill toward Screech had no bearing when she called in sick the day that the whole department went to lunch to congratulate Screech on getting married.

How was your Friday the 13th? Mine was decidedly bizarre, but fun.

First with the work drama. I have no idea what is going on now, I think they both talked to my boss this morning and I haven't been able to get a read on if it's resolved or if there will still be some aftermath. Until then I remain under my desk.

After work my hubby met up with me and we went to the Indians game. Hey, the boys are looking pretty good! They almost overtook the Twins this weekend. And my current favorite player, Ben Broussard, is on a hot streak. (He's pretty cute, too.)

The game was probably one of the most fun I've been to, ever. Although it started off on a strange note. We were standing at the ticket window and we had a close encounter with a strange person on stilts. He was in a special outfit, totally painted white. Like a mime. The outfit was tight-fitting and the stilts were included. Oh yeah, he had stilts on his hands so he actually looked quite like a giraffe, walking on all fours. He stared at everyone and ambled through the crowd trying to get into the Jake. I'm not sure if he was a defector from a circus or what his deal was -- maybe he was just sitting at home watching reruns and thought to himself, "Hmm, what should I do tonight? ... I know, I'll paint my body white and walk on four-legged stilts in front of Jacobs Field!"

Once we got in, we sat in our cheap seats for a while and then went to find my father-in-law, who owns a season ticket and frequently goes to games solo. His section is usually desolate so we can always get up there with no problem. But because the team is starting to do good, and possibly because it was Friday the 13th, we had company around us.

First, there were about six 40-something women sitting in a group. Nothing unusual about them, except they were all wearing fake mustaches. I shit you not.

In between us and them, a group of about 20 drunk college-age kids came and sat. The apparent ringleader of the group was a dead ringer for Jason Mraz. So anytime he did something funny, Owen and I would say to each other, "Check out Jason Mraz!" or "Jason Mraz is really fired up!"

I'm always leery of packs of college kids who have been embibing, particularly a group of males, and particularly at a sporting event, because 9 times out of 10, they turn out to be obnoxious assholes. However, Jason Mraz and the gang were actually quite entertaining.

I was a little worried at how they would mesh with the mustache contingent, and I began to squirm in my seat when I heard one guy say to another guy, "I dare you to go hit on the chicks with the mustaches." I thought, oh boy, it's on now.

A few minutes later, one of the mustachioed women appeared with enough beers to keep Jason and his pals going for a while. This set the group into a frenzy and the two groups became fast friends. They began to do a cheer. The mustached women would yell "MUST" and the Jason Mraz clan would yell "ASH!" Louder and louder and faster and faster until they realized there was a game going on. Then they'd watch the game for a while and more hijinx would occur. I think at the end of the game one of the gang high-fived my father-in-law.

Toward the end of the game, in large letters on the scoreboard, it said that highway 77-S was closed due to "steel erection." I swear to god, everyone in the stadium turned into Beavis and Butt-head. You could hear a collective "huh huh huh huh" going through the crowd. They took it down and replaced it by saying 77-S was closed due to "construction work." I'm thinking someone got fired. Better polish up my resume!

Quite an interesting day, to say the least.

Friday, August 13

It's on... like a chicken bone (still don't know what that means)
Bad Lady just bitched out Screech. The cat claws came out. Bad Lady has left the building.
Oh, the drama!

Apparently B.L. felt that S. doesn't like her (she doesn't). B.L. felt that S. has taken an attitude toward her (she kinda has). And B.L. feels that S. talks to me too much. (WTF? Why does that matter?)

But what B.L. doesn't realize is that it's hard to be nice to someone who isn't nice back. Yet she expects that. We have all made the effort with Bad Lady and gotten minimal return. She just is not a pleasant person.

In Bad Lady's world, she is always the victim. And is never at fault.

So I'm siding with Screech on this one. If I have to take a side, which I'd rather not. Truth be told, I'd like to just hide underneath my desk until this all boils over.

Eat fresh
I ate a 6-inch turkey sub on honey oat bread with lettuce, pickles, black olives and green peppers from Subway for lunch today and it was outstanding.

With Cheddar Sun Chips.

Just wanted you to know!
Here's the latest office doin's:

1. IDA walked into my boss' office, where two other coworkers were there discussing something with my boss, and announced to one of the coworkers, "Just for the record, this is me putting the spreadsheet on your chair." (Apparently a spreadsheet got misplaced and IDA was blamed -- rightfully so.) She has some balls to be that bitchy in front of the boss. Who is not her boss, but a boss nonetheless.

2. Incompetent but Likeable was heard this morning passing by my desk singing "the wheels on the bus go round and round, round and round, round and round, the wheels on the bus go round and round, all through the town."

3. Bad Lady complained in a staff meeting that some of her "clients" (read: her family -- she has no clients) were complaining that they heard yelling in the department and could we all try to please keep it down. Mostly Screech is to blame in this arena, but it's done nothing but make it all the more loud. We're a mature bunch.

Wednesday, August 11

I just talked to my mom, whose birthday is this Sunday. She wants to take a day trip up to Greektown one day this weekend. Whee! Except we'll probably be playing the nickel slots.

I'll do a big wave to Tuna and all the other Mitten state residents while I'm there.
Turf war
It's been said before, but both my cats are crazy. You know all about Dom and his basement dementia (yesterday he brought up a dirty sock and a white t-shirt from the laundry) but rarely do I discuss the basket case that is my cat Molly, more affectionately known as "Peepers."

Peepers, or Peeps (we change nicknames in our household like nobody's business) gets her nick from the sound she makes when she wants attention (read: ALL THE TIME). It's the most pathetic noise you've ever heard. It's just the tiniest, faintest "peep" that is usually accompanied by her little paw tapping whatever body part is closest to her, be it an arm or a leg, as if she is saying, "I hate to bother you, but if you don't pet me right this second I WILL SPONTANEOUSLY COMBUST. PEEP!" And the peeps do get louder if you try and ignore her. Which is impossible, because if you don't pet her immediately, she resorts to the snaggletooth maneuver. And then she licks. And then she kneads. It's cute the first 50 times in the day that it happens, but times 51 through 10,299 tend to become annoying.

Anyhoo. Yesterday morning, Dom was doing his best to break into the cabinet where their food is kept. Also in the back of this cabinet are some extra catnip toys that they got for Christmas from my aunt (we really need a baby -- my family considers our cats the "grandchildren" in the family right now). Dom managed to worm his way into the cabinet and proceeded to try and break into the package of catnip toys. Always the sucker, I took one out -- a butterfly made out of that crinkly stuffing material -- and gave it to him. He happily trotted into the living room and tossed it around for not even a minute, when...

Peeps appeared from her coffin (the upstairs closet) and zeroed right in on the butterfly. This is a cat who shuns treats, has no use for interactive toys, but whose one weaknesss is the Nip. She floves the Nip.

Dom, who is by far the alpha cat in the house, batted her away when she tried to come take a whiff of the new toy. She retreated to a spot in the living room where she could still see it, and then waited. Dom is easily distracted, and as soon as he wandered off, she went for it. She doesn't "play" with catnip toys per se. She just sits on them. Like it's an egg. So she plopped down right on top of the toy. When Dom saw this, of course he went batshit crazy. But she stood her ground and hissed at him until he went away.

I left for work and she was still sitting on that damn butterfly.

When I came home, she was STILL sitting on it. Dom was sitting about five feet away. They both had heavy eyelids and narrow pupils. Hee.

They never fail to amaze me.
Pardon our dust
I'm doing some template maintainence this morning, adding some links and removing some obsolete ones, so if this blog publishes a ton of times, it might just be because I've done some minor tweak to the sidebar. Apologies in advance to you bloglines users, I have no idea if you get a notification every time this thing updates or what, but there's bound to be several.


Tuesday, August 10

Not the one played by Dustin Diamond
It's time to introduce you to another person in my office. Let's call her "Screech." She has earned this nickname not because of her resemblance to a certain Saved by the Bell character, but because of her increasingly annoying voice.

Screech has previously been on my good side. She's younger than I am, and the closest thing to a minion that I have here in the office.

But lately she has been getting on everyone's last nerve. Partially because of the Screech. But also partially because she puts her foot in her mouth constantly. She was the responsible party for the e-mail debacle of months back. People have forgiven but not forgotten that incident. Every once in a while I'll get a remark from someone about her 'tude.

She has some redeeming qualities; namely, she antagonizes Bad Lady, which I find humorous. The two of them go at it all the time. Also, she actually does her job most of the time, which is refreshing around here.

But the Screech has got to go. Not even headphones can mask it. She's at a 10, I need her at about a 4.

Monday, August 9

Back to Dom. Here he is in his tunnel, which he dragged up from the basement himself. Posted by Hello

Amidst the Dom mania, I did manage to take one picture of our elusive cat Molly, aka Peepers. Posted by Hello

Here's Dom keeping Owen company at the kitchen table on the 4th of July before our big shindig. Posted by Hello

And here is the infamous Dom sleeping encircled by his basement toys. Pictured are the two Christmas stockings, a Browns hat, garden glove, and Elvis wig (behind Dom). Posted by Hello

A view of the beach from our hotel room. The beach was closed due to thunderstorms somewhere nearby. Posted by Hello

The sunrise from our hotel room window. I was asleep but I'm told that it was spectacular. Posted by Hello
Back to work
Being back sucks. The morning has gone quickly because I've been returning e-mails, wading through paperwork, and telling people about my trip, but now I'm starting to get the post-vacation blahs.

And I feel like my desk chair is lower than it was before I left. I can't figure out how to fix it, either. Maybe it's just my imagination.

I'll eventually get around to scanning my pics but Inappropriately Dressed Admin is down by the scanner working on something at the moment... and it's dangerously close to Incompetent but Likeable, who is extremely chatty today. Maybe no one talked to him while I was gone.

I just got an assignment to think of a name of a promotion that awards free gas cards for certain performance goals... any ideas for me?
Doodle me this
I'm sorry, but a Labradoodle is not a real dog.

Sunday, August 8

Mis vacationes
Ah, vacation. It was so nice to be away from the office and all the b.s. that being there entails.

Prior to leaving for Va Beach, I went with a friend to see John Mayer/Maroon 5. I was disappointed in Maroon 5, even though they did "This Love" and all their good songs off their album. They just jumped around and did rock star guitar moves and stuff, and I was over it pretty quickly.

John Mayer was fucking awesome. What was most puzzling about his show was that there was a sign language interpreter on the side of the stage. I couldn't look away from her (actually there were two that would switch off between songs) as she signed away the lyrics to his songs while also dancing. How many deaf people actually were there? I have no idea, but I now know the sign language for "wonderland."

He also did a cover of Poison's "Every Rose Has its Thorn" which made him even cooler in my estimation than before.

Once I got home from the concert, I watched a little bit of Tuesday's Big Brother and then we hit the road. I drove the beginning shift until about 4 a.m. until I couldn't keep my eyes open any longer. Owen drove the rest of the way there (another 7 1/2 hours) while I mostly slept.

When we got into town about 12:30 Wednesday afternoon, the weather was absolutely gorgeous. Hurricane Alex had blown back to sea and hadn't gotten as far as Va Beach, but apparently it had rained all day the previous day. We were treated to crystal blue skies without a cloud in sight. We parked our asses on the beach for a couple hours until we were sufficiently fried, then retreated to the hotel room for a nap. We showered and headed out to dinner.

Now I hate seafood. The sight of some of it makes me want to vomit. Anything that you have to pry out of a shell, in particular, turns my stomach. Owen, however, loves that shit. So he picked every restaurant that we went to and I resigned myself to three days of overcooked steak, dry, flavorless chicken, and various other bland dishes. He did convince me to try a bite of a crab cake once -- blah.

Our waiter at Wednesday's restaurant was our hands down favorite, and we imitated him for the rest of the trip. He was a surfer dude, and he punctuated every sentence with a Butt-headesque laugh -- "huh huh huh huh huh." He asked where we were from and when we said "Ohio," he told us that he "sort of" had a girlfriend in... "Colorado Ohio? Uh, Columbus?" whose ex-boyfriend was a professional hockey player for the Columbus Blue Jackets. And apparently this ex was not too happy with our surfer dude. So he told us to remember if we ever saw that hockey player to think of him.

After dinner we took a walk along the shore and were treated to fireworks that were shot off a ship on the ocean. A perfect ending to a perfect first day.

Thursday was overcast and we got in a few hours at the beach before they closed the entire thing down due to approaching thunderstorms that never quite did make it to shore. We got rained on, though, consistently thoughout the day. We spent the day at a bar, where the music on tap was the Greatest Hits of Phil Collins and Genesis. I personally never knew that Phil Collins had 800 Greatest hits, but we heard each and every one.

Later, we sat on our balcony watching the boardwalk (our hotel room overlooked the beach) and then went out to dinner. It was an Italian place, and as we were being led to our table, I realized that in the restaurant, a few tables away from ours, was a TABLE FULL OF CLOWNS.

That's right. Clowns. In full dress, orange wigs, big shoes and all.

Some of you may know that I am absolutely terrified of clowns. They creep me out. Particularly if I am trying to eat dinner and they are honking horns in my general proximity. So I sat facing away from them and tried to put myself in a happy place to be able to enjoy my meal.

Sitting the way I did was quite fortunate, though, because I was facing the bar. Which had a TV. Which was showing Big Brother's live show! I got to see Scott evicted (sans sound), and all was right with the world. We left before the twin switch, but I was able to get back to the hotel room to see Nakomis win HOH. After I got my BB5 fix, we went out for another walk on the beach and then called it a night.

Friday was freaking freezing. The wind was so strong that even when the sun came out it was still cold. We spent as long as we could on the beach and then decided to go to the Va Beach aquarium. That was pretty cool, my favorite part of the aquarium being the river otters, or perhaps a random turkey that was there (I took pictures; probably will post them tomorrow).

The rest of Friday was uneventful except that we ate excessive amounts of hush puppies and my stomach still isn't right from it. But damn, were they ever good.

Saturday was gorgeous, and it sucked, because we were leaving. Figures that our first and last days were the best. We sat on the beach for a while, then went out to the fishing pier where we saw dolphins swimming in the water -- I FLOVE dolphins! And then that was it. Begin the driving hell.

I'm still trying to catch up on live feed action, blogs, six finger plans, etc. Tomorrow it's back to work... gah. At least I have a tan.
What the...?
I'm back from vacation and I will write a lengthy post about it sometime today, but in the meantime, could someone please tell me why the hell Nakomis nominated Diane and Marvin? I am so confused. WHY IS JASSHOLE NOT ON THE BLOCK?

Thank you.

Monday, August 2

Keeping you posted
Today was the company golf outing. I don't golf. But somehow I end up going to this thing every year to "help." This entails everything to counting the money (yes, give the journalism major the counting job, that's a GREAT idea!) to telling my boss someone's name so he doesn't make an ass of himself. Like this example, from today:

Boss: Is that guy's name Dick?
K: No, it's Jim.
Boss: (a few seconds later) Hey, Dick!
K: (hisses) JIM!

It also entails eating a hot dog with aforementioned boss at 10:30 a.m. And then, several Mike's Hard Cranberry Lemonades. And then driving around with him on a golf cart.

As I mentioned previously, this is IBL's show. He "organized" the whole thing (the man with no organizational skills) and never fails to forget many minor details, such as cash boxes, donuts and coffee in the morning, and assigning tasks to people beforehand so there isn't mass confusion the day of the outing.

I could have opted out this time but I knew that if I wasn't there, I'd miss something spectacularly hilarious. Like a couple years ago, when IBL, from quite a fair distance away, hit Bad Lady with a golf ball. Or, the story that is told and retold by my boss, which happened way before I started working here, whereupon IBL hit a huge-ass divot onto the chest of one of our bigwigs.

Actually, nothing cool like that happened. But it was still fun.