Great moments in Sketch Factor history, part the second
I have just finished eating a turkey bacon guacamole sub from Subway that may have been made by Jesus himself. Thank you, Jesus, for you have done good. And I'm feeling slightly less wired, and much less likely to pull the collar of my shirt over my head and scream "I AM THE GREAT CORNHOLIO! I NEED TEEPEE FOR MY BUNGHOLE! DO NOT ANGER MY BUNGHOLE!!!!!!!!!!! ARE YOU THREATENING ME???????"

With that being said, here are some more blasts from the past...

December 2, 2003: I get my 100th visitor, and as a prize, I create the stunning fish graphic you now see on Green Tuna's blog.

From time to time, I like to annoy my readers by posting the lyrics to whatever song is stuck in my head. My philosophy on bad song lyrics is that if I have to suffer, everyone must suffer with me. Here is such an example, from December 3:

Another Postcard
Some chimps in swim suits!
Some chimps in jack boots!
Some chimps in hard hats!
Some chimps who love cats!...

Since that song is caught in my head now, suffer with me. Suffer, I say! Suffer! Even though I love chimps, and between my co-workers and I, we refer to each other as chimps (as in, a chimp could do our job -- or the classic, someone called our department and asked, "what chimp at corporate wrote this ad?" -- and the person who wrote the ad took the call and was pissed) but, this song has got to go. BNL done bad by me.

In this entry, dated December 9, 2003, I ponder an age-old question...

Wondering...Where you live, are Pet stores ALWAYS either next door to, or in the same plaza as, a Chinese buffet? Because where I live, it's like that everywhere. Pet Supplies Plus? Right next to Thai Gourmet. Pet Smart, just a few doors down from China King. Etc. Etc. Etc. Is it a strip mall thing, or is there some other kind of disturbing connection??? I've been wondering about that.

Casual Friday goes to hell, as noted in a post from December 11, 2003:

Have a cup of cheer (with a chaser of bitterness)
As a special holiday treat, we received a memo this morning from management, saying that casual Friday has "deteriorated" from its original intent and thus, they are revising the policy and eliminating jeans, tennis shoes, sweatshirts, sweatpants, t-shirts... basically my entire casual wardrobe. They would like us to wear "slacks" and sports shirts (??), mock turtlenecks and sweaters. Well, other than what I wear Monday through Thursday, I don't own any of the previous items. I have sweaters, but they are sweaters I'd wear with jeans. Mock turtlenecks? Puh-leeze.

This is not going down well in the office. Bad Lady crumpled up her memo and slammed it into the trash can. Which kind of make me chuckle.

I prepare for one of the most painful days of the year on December 12, 2003:

Deck the freakin' hallsToday is that magical day, that special time of year, where ye olde office mates gather in a party room at a local hotel and consume mad alcohol, undercooked meat, veggies and dip, and mass quantities of cheese and crackers. That's right, folks, it's the annual company holiday party! Beginning at 2 this afternoon, this festival of debauchery will feature a drunken escapade by at least one person, on the dance floor. This usually involves saying someone is "hot" and trying to dance with them. And it's usually a president of the company, who is happily married, and who is unhappily mortified at the experience.

It's always somewhat embarrassing for everyone in attendance to see the booty shaking that goes on at these affairs; at least it is for me. When I witness the booty shaking, I'm always so horribly curious about it, that I can't stop staring. Sure, they are having a good time, but at what cost? Do you really want to be known for grinding on the accounting manager? Not so much. Because that's the stuff that is never forgotten. It's kept alive by the likes of the Diet Club, who sit in the lunch room the next Monday and repeat to anyone who will listen, "Did you see so-and-so on the dance floor?" *giggle* And then it finally gets back to you that you're the topic of conversation. You vaguely remember dancing, but not with whom or for how long.

Friends, don't let this happen to you! Don't be that person at the holiday party! Don't tell your boss you think he's hot! Don't hit on the catering staff and make them try to dance with you!

I have seen all of these things, and I can tell you, it ain't pretty.

After Saddaam Hussein is found in his little hole in the ground, I have a case of mistaken identity: (12/15/03)

How many timesam I going to click onto msn.com today and think that the shaggy-bearded man is Rupert Boneham, when in actuality it is Sadaam? Not that they look alike. I just see the beard and think Rupert.

Don't ever leave me alone in the office, or hijinx like these will ensue: (12/23/03):

Hello(o...o...o...o...*echoes through empty office*). No one here but me. Bad Lady went to pick up her pinkeye perscription and the other two people that weren't already on vacation, have gone to lunch and to pick up a Honeybaked Ham.
*does McCauley Culkin "Home Alone" face*
So what does one do when alone in the office?
Spin around in the chair for a while?
*dizzily picks self up off floor*
Sing along loudly to "Feliz Navidad" when it comes on radio?
*prospero ano, felicidad... ha ha!*
See if I can still do a cartwheel down the aisle of cubicles?
*decides against it*
Peer, prairie dog style, over the top of cubicle wall?
*peers*

One of my favorite blogging topics is what I am eating for lunch. It IS the highlight of my day, usually. This entry from December 30, 2003, makes me sad because it's been months since I've seen Awesome Wendy's Grandma, which makes me wonder if she died.

So what should I get to eat? I'm thinking Subway maybe. Wendy's is always a possibility, and then I can see Awesome Wendy's Grandma. She works at the drive-thru at Wendy's, and whenever you pull up to get your food, she is always happy to see you. "Hi, honey!!!!!" she says to me each time I pull up. And then makes some comment on the weather. If it's raining she has a plastic shower cap-like thing over her Wendy's baseball hat. If it's snowing she's bundled up in a scarf she probably knitted herself. She is just so cute, I can't stand it. That settles it. I'm going to Wendy's.

...

Yay for Wendy's. Boo for no Awesome Wendy's Grandma at the drive-thru window. Instead, was greeted by younger, slightly less peppy, non-grandma. *pouts* But my mandarin chicken salad was fantastic.

New Year's Eve was quite memorable due to a certain bar patron. Meatball Guy, this excerpt goes out to you. Hope you're still rockin' the meatballs.

An honorary Sketch Factor awardgoes to the bar where my husband's band played on New Year's Eve. It was a combination of a Kent State student/ townie bar, and since the students were on break, it was mostly townies. Not any townies, mind you. Kent borders on a very rural, shotgun-totin', Confederate flag hangin' area. The crowd was mostly comprised of those kinda folks.

Tickets were $12 and featured the music of three bands. Owen's band was #2 for the evening. A "buffet dinner" was also included. Now when I think buffet, I am thinking, sneeze guard, serving dishes, line up nicely with your plates, wait your turn, etc. Nah. Not here. The buffet consisted of several crock pots lined up on a table. Plus another table with a veggie tray and a third table of chips, pretzels and nachos.

The crock pots really skeeved me out, but faced with the prospect of it being 8:00 and not eating until 2004, I threw caution to the wind.

The food actually ended up being really, really good. There were these fried chicken legs that were to die for. The meat was so tender, it was falling off the bone. And they were cooked in a crock pot -- which was a novel way to cook them, at least I thought. Then there were these meatballs, which provided the major humor for the night. As my friend Amy and I were helping ourselves to the crock pot buffet, we noticed that this guy, who himself resembled a meatball, was piling the meatballs onto his plate and nothing else. We both looked at each other with a "what the hell" expression, but thought nothing of it. I got a couple of the meatballs out, and when we got back to our table, I sampled them and they were outstanding. "What was with that dude with all the meatballs?" she said. "I don't know, but they sure are good," I said. And that was that.

Maybe 20 minutes later, we decided to go up for seconds. I went to the meatballs immediately and joked that "I better get some before they're gone!" Then I move on to the other crock pots o' goodness. No sooner did I leave the meatball area then here he is again, Meatball Guy, filling his plate with MORE meatballs! I swear, he must have taken 20. So I nudge Amy and both of us bust out laughing uncontrollably. It was one of those situations that I immediately felt bad about because I'm pretty sure he knew we were laughing at him. But it was just too funny. Dude sure loved his meatballs.

And it was even funnier when we saw him get up to make a THIRD trip to get more meatballs and come back with even more!

Then after that, he disappeared. I surmised he was probably on the toilet. Amy guessed that he probably died of a heart attack. So no one knows what became of Meatball Guy. And no one else thought it was that funny, except for us.

More pearls of wisdom (Jan 4, 2004):

Contrary to what you may have thought, it is possible to eat too much french onion dip. Take my word for it.

From Jan. 5 -- interesting to note here, that the new person in question was our dearly beloved Screech. Also on this day in Sketch Factor history, the 2000th person pays a visit, although they are of unknown origin.

Change is bad. Bad! I get cranky when my pen runs out of ink and I have to find a new one. Major change really puts me out of whack. Well, today at work, we have a new person starting. (mental note: be on best behavior for rest of day) It's just always weird, adjusting to a new person, and people are moving around desks, and it just throws me off. Even though it won't directly affect me, it will just take some getting used to.

On January 6, I get an interesting early birthday card from my boss...

I got a birthday card from my boss today. Mind you, my birthday is Saturday. The message printed on the inside of the card said, "Wishing you all the fun one birthday can hold!" but my boss crossed out the word "birthday" and wrote "monkey" instead. We have a weird sense of humor around here. But I do love monkeys.

Just because I still think this is ridiculous that this happened, and because it features a moment of IBL eccentricity, here is the post from January 9:

Rah Rah
Just when you think you've heard everything... there's a big meeting today for all the managers of our company (this is about 50 people). Apparently, our company had its best year ever last year (which is the topic of the meeting), and so yesterday I spent much of my day making posters and signs proclaiming the greatness.

We found out at the end of the day yesterday that one of our managers somehow finagled the Cleveland Cavaliers cheerleaders to come to the meeting.

The whole thing is sickening. Not even from a standpoint of being demeaning to the women in the room (which I think it is; and a majority of our managers ARE women), but sickening from a standpoint of being wasteful. They will tell us to our faces that "there's not enough money in the budget" to give us decent pay increases or to get something that we really need for our department, but they'll blow wads of cash to get the cheerleaders to come to a business meeting.

Addendum: My day was made when Incompetent but Likeable came over to my desk and did an awkward version of the old cheer "2 bits, 4 bits, 6 bits a dollar!" I told him he should have been the head cheerleader.

Proof that it really takes a lot to come between me and my fast food lunches (Jan. 14, 2004):

So, yesterday I decide to get lunch from Quizno's. I'm waiting in line to pay, and the cashier is talking to the guy in front of me, for a LONG time. Finally the guy leaves, and she says to me, "I'm so sorry. He works in this plaza and we were just talking about how the Hong Kong Buffet was on the news last night for 'Dirty Dining.'" The Hong Kong Buffet is two doors down from Quizno's. "Dirty Dining" is one of those hidden camera investigative reporting pieces where reporters go into restaurants and look for health code violations.

The Quizno's cashier tells me that the Hong Kong Buffet was reported as being "filthy" and that "the entire plaza is infested with roaches." But she assures me that it is definitely not true, and that she is insulted that the report would say that.

I nod my head and empathize with her but I'm getting more and more uneasy, even though I pay for my sub and leave. Hmm, I say to myself, do I really want to eat this sub after that information has been divulged?

The answer is yes.

More annoying song lyrics (come on, you know you love me when I do this!) from January 14,2004:

Currently playing on Bad Lady's radio: the UB40 classic, "Red Red Wine!"
In case you need a refesher on how the lyrics go:
Red red wine you make me feel fine, make me feel fine, all of de time
Red red wine (unintelligible) monkey (unintelligible) on the street car line
The line broke, the monkey got choked, all went to heaven on a little row boat

Feel free to curse my name as this song stays with you for several hours.

My husband proves himself to be a regular little Martha Stewart (minus the insider trading and jail time at "Camp Cupcake") in times of crisis (Jan. 19, 2004):

I dropped an entire dozen of eggs on the kitchen floor yesterday as I was unpacking groceries. It was one of those slow-motion moments where I tried to stop it from happening, and then "oooooooohhhhhhhhhhssssssssshhhhhhhhhhiiiiiiiiiittttttttttt" as they hit the floor, one by one.

Owen, who was outside shoveling the driveway, happened to come inside seconds later, and to my utter shock (and awe!) , he was the face of calm, and said he knew how to handle the situation. He poured salt on the mess, and it solidified the yokes, making them easier to clean up. Sure, it was gross, but it was a lot better than trying to mop up yoke.

I married the right man.

I impress a company President by pretending to be busy... (1/22/04):

Yesterday I learned a very important lesson in business: even if you aren't doing anything important, if you look like you are, it might fool the right people.

Remember a couple weeks ago when I had to organize that photo shoot and run around like a freak trying to get people to come get their picture taken? Other than finding people and forcing them to say cheese, there really was nothing to this job. It just ate several hours of my day, and I did a lot of standing around with my notepad, watching the shoot and trying to figure out who to get next.

Anyway. My boss called me into his office last night and told me that one of the big presidents of our company, who was one of the people who got photographed that day, hired our photographers to come to Pittsburgh to some convention they are putting on. And she also said, "get that girl who was directing the photo shoot [me!!!] to come and direct it here, too."

Hee. So standing around and looking official has bought me a two-day trip to Pittsburgh. I guess I should be flattered that she thought that I was "directing." Actually, I find the whole thing comical. I mean, I had nothing to do with the photographers other than bringing them their subjects.

I guess I can add "photography director" to my resume?

It's kind of an "Office Space" moment.

More to come, I promise!

Great moments in Sketch Factor History, part the first
Ok, so I lied. I will actually post a few gems from the past of this blog. This one, originally appearing October 15, 2003, was the first mention of Bad Lady in my blog, before she was dubbed by aforementioned appellation (look it up, it's a word, I swear!) ...:

Pop Quiz: Are you a good co-worker?
1. Your print job has caused a paper jam in the printer. Do you:
a) Identify where the jam is, fix the jam, and make sure the printer is back online?
b) Notice that you have jammed the printer, ask someone to help you who knows what they are doing?
c) Half-assedly stand by the printer for a minute staring at it, then go back to your desk without saying anything to anyone?

2. You've used the last tea bag at the coffee station. Do you:
a) Open the cupboard, grab a handful of tea bags, and refill the tea bag tray?
b) Put one tea bag back so the next sucker who comes to get tea has to do it?
c) Do nothing; it's not your job to refill tea bags?

3. Your 16 year old son has come home sick from school with a fever. You:
a) Call him and see how he's doing.
b) Leave a few minutes early so you can pick up some chicken noodle soup at the store.
c) Leave at 2:30 in a panic because he hasn't called you and it's been a half hour since you last talked to him.

4. At 3 in the afternoon, you realize you forgot to get gas in your car. You:
a) Write yourself a note to get gas on the way home from work.
b) Leave a few minutes early to beat the rush and get to the gas station.
c) Leave the office at 3 to refill gas tank so you can leave right at 5 and not be stuck in traffic.

5. How would you desrcibe the amount of personal calls you get in one day? You:
a) Try to limit personal calls at work -- you're not being paid to gab with friends and family!
b) Make a couple personal calls a day.
c) Lose count after about 8:45 a.m.

SCORING: Give yourself 1 point for every time you answered A. Two points for B. Three points for C.
5 points: You are the model co-worker. You're right on top of things!
6-14 points: Check yourself before you wreck yourself. You need to sharpen those office skills!
15 points: You are MY co-worker. Die.

And here's one, dated October 21st:

A Day in the Life of a Graphic Designer (Conversations I've Had With Actual Clients)
1. On going over changes with a client, I still needed a replacement photo that she was to provide. "Well," she said, "You may as well wait to make the other changes until you have the photo so you're not printing out two sets of proofs." I agreed that that made sense. Two days later... the client calls. "So, have you made those changes yet?" Uh, no, because I was waiting for your photo. Sheesh.

2. After showing a particularly picky client numerous color proofs, including off two different printers, her own printer, and showing it to her on screen, AND giving her the color values of the solid colors used in her brochure, she calls me from a press proof (she has family in the printing business which complicates the matter ten-fold) and says that the brown I chose is "too chocolate" and that she "doesn't like it after all." What do you want me to do about it now?

3. Client to Kat: "I really like this logo you designed, but you left off the second 'f' in 'professional'." Oh. My bad.

And thus, it is my conclusion that the stupid people on this earth vastly outnumber the smart'uns.

The debut of Incompetent But Likeable appears in this post, on Oct 22, 2003:

Incompetent But Likeable, Computer-Illiterate Guy is wearing two different-colored socks today. He has not, as of yet, asked me how to e-mail an attachment, but the day is young. I don't think the challenge has presented itself to him yet. Oh, but it will, but it will.

The first sign that my cat Domino has mental issues appeared October 28:

This morning, Domino dragged a large garbage bag full of clothes that I am going to donate to Goodwill, from the spare bedroom and into the living room, where he proceeded to tear holes in it. But how a 12 pound cat has the strength to drag a 30-or 40 pound bag of clothes that distance is beyond me.

I share some life lessons on November 1st, 2003:

Lessons learned today
Under any circumstances, even if it looks like the most delicious thing in the world, DO NOT eat onion loaf.

If cat bites your arm, pull it away. You will not win in a battle of the wills. Cat is like pirhana and will not let go no matter what, and in fact, will bite harder the longer you don't move your arm.

I realize I'm not hamster material on Nov. 2:

My peanut butter and jelly sandwich is not satisfying. That settles it, I could never be on Big Brother.

I like to share with all of you from time to time about what snacks I'm eating, and I just love me some Toast-Chee. (Nov 18, 2003):

I was about to forge into my wallet to see if I had correct change for the vending machine. Then I remembered that I had Toast-Chee in my desk. I don't know if this is a local delicacy, or if it's a nationwide phenomenon. Toast-Chee, manufactured by Lance, Inc., is a peanut butter and traffic cone orange cracker sandwich. It comes in convenient six packs for snacking. So that is what I'm dining on right now. Toast-Chee. It's fun to write, too. And I believe there's another kind of cracker sandwich called "Nip Chee" that is cheese and crackers. Maybe there's a couple more, but I am not familiar with them.

Office supplies are the topic of this post which I found amusing, way back on November 20th, 2003:

Have you ever found a pen, maybe in the copy room, maybe someone left it on your desk, maybe on the ground, and it's a really cool pen? That pen becomes yours by the unwritten rule of finders keepers, losers weepers.

Why is it that, that pen, always ends up getting lost or someone else takes it? What's the saying, it was never yours to begin with? I think it's that whole "love something set it free" thing. Anyway, it's just a pen. I should get over it.

But I think Incompetent but Likeable ganked it.

This year, it would have been Jase (Nov. 23, 2003):

So, I'm at this party last night. And all these scientific types are there. They're saying words like "neurotransmitter" and I'm feeling incredibly out of place and stupid. While we're all sitting around eating pasta salad, one girl nonchalantly tells us all, "I decapitated like, 5 hamsters yesterday."

Um. Excuse me?

Yep. She wasn't bluffin'. She does some kind of research on Hamster brains. And they have to use live hamsters for the experiments because apparently they need to study a certain part of the brain that shuts down after death. Gross huh?

Meanwhile, I'm grossed out, but at the same time, I'm sitting there thinking, heh, hamster brains. I'm picturing Jee with his head in a guillotine. Maybe that's wrong of me. But oh well.

It was a disturbing conversation nonetheless. I'd like to believe that that stuff doesn't actually happen. But yeah, it does.

That concludes the first part of this look back in SF history, if I get time today I may post more snippets. Because you know you want more! MORE!!!!!!!

Ketchup
I haven't had much time for blogging in the past couple of days, due to a huge presentation being thrown at me that had to be completed yesterday. We are presenting it tomorrow morning to all of management, and then throughout October, going on-site to our offices to present to the rest of the employees. It's a brand new program that we are offering our clients, so everyone needs to be schooled on it, etc.

I have a Fabulous! New! Haircut! I changed stylists and I have "product" in my hair as we speak. It's a big change from my "wake up, brush it, spray it and go" hairstyle that I've had most of my life. I actually have to work on it in the morning or else it looks like a big scary rat's nest. It garnered a lot of good reaction yesterday when I debuted it at the office.

I stopped at the Circle K this morning (we just got Circle K in our area and I always say to myself whenever I go there, "Strange things are afoot at the Circle K!" which is a quote from Bill and Ted's Excellent Adventure). Anyway, I bought a dozen Krispy Kreme donuts for a co-worker's b-day, and got one of those huge-ass cups of that fake cappuccino stuff from the machine, and I am WIRED. I'm shaky, and my head hurts, but I am a whirlwind of activity this morning. Hope it wears off soon and I can go back into my zombified stupor that everyone is accustomed to.

And, I thought I'd mention, that today marks the one-year anniversary of The Sketch Factor. I was going to go through my archives and note some memorable moments in my blog history, but I started to do that and lost interest. But thank you to everyone who has paid me a visit, left comments, or just lurked (I know you're out there, thanks to Site Meter). I greatly appreciate it. [ /mushy part ]

Dreamy
So I had this dream early this morning, which was quite like my real life, wherein I was searching through my closet for something to wear to work, and I just couldn't decide what to wear. (Yes, my life is that complex.) Except in the dream I had a lot cooler clothes than I really do. It was a perfectly normal dream of me trying on different clothes...

... until Ashton Kutcher walked into the room wearing nothing but a woman's nightie with lace trim.

I think his hair may have been in pigtails too.

What I did to deserve this subconscious torture, I'm not sure.

Toot
I'm feeling pretty good right now. Just found out that two of the pieces I worked on, one being our dreaded company newsletter, won first place in an advertising contest that was held for companies similar to mine, state-wide. That gives me a little bit of needed motivation to keep trying to be creative and to do stuff outside my comfort zone, rather than slap crap on a page and call it done, like I've been doing for the past few months.

Mmmmmmm. Bop?
Well, the show we went to was uber weird. The crowd was comprised entirely of hipsters, and I felt like any minute the hipster police were going to come ask my husband and I for our Hipster I.D. cards and we would be exposed as frauds asked to leave. The music was ok, but it seemed like the band didn't really care whether the audience enjoyed it or not, they were just in their own little world. We didn't stay for the whole show.

There was a man outside with some marionette puppets (inside joke: he reminded me of the Minister of Goth -- a slightly disturbed OU student who used to give similar street performances). He wasn't really doing anything with them per se, and he had a large boombox blasting the first Pearl Jam album ("Evenflow" was on as we walked past). He would just kind of play with the puppet for a second and then he would sit -- or lay -- down on a towel he had spread out for himself. I think he wanted donations for this bit of street "entertainment," but as I had used all fifteen quarters on the parking meter, I had no mas to give him.

There was also a huge contingent of twentysomethings gathered outside the venue wearing Lyndon Larouche t-shirts and signing people up to vote. Which was fine -- until they broke into song. Complete with different harmonies, etc. Like they had sopranos, tenors -- the whole nine yards. I couldn't hear the lyrics but it was bizarre how they gathered and began to sing. Although compared to puppet man it felt normal.

On a side note, I drove in to work this morning and my local radio station was playing the song "Mmmmmbop" by the brothers Hanson. Being a fan of all cheesy music, I forced myself to listen to it. What amused me, that I had forgotten about the song, it toward the end they actually have the sound of a record scratching. Like Hanson had a DJ who decided to break it down and get funky with it. *snort*

Didn't one of them die of a heroin overdose yet? No?
How about now?


How about now?


How about now???

Huh?!?
Oh, Sinead. If you want us to stop making fun of you, then stop doing things that would cause you to be made fun of. It's that simple. And drawing attention to the fact that people ridicule you is only going to make it worse.

Um
Back From Maternity Leave has been sick (the woman is ALWAYS sick -- I guess from all the germs her kids bring home from daycare) and now I'b starting to feel a libttle stubffed ubp. Damn her. At least I have my -- scream it with me folks -- Reeeeeeeeeeee co laaaaaaaaa! It will get me through.

We're going to see some band tomorrow night -- Yo La Tengo. My husband likes them but I have Yo La Never Heard of Them.

It will be a little weird for me -- the show is at a place that used to be my coffee shop hangout when I was a bad-ass Catholic high school girl.

I would comment on last night's "Survivor" but I think all I need to say is someone named Dolly who is a sheep farmer kind of writes her own punchlines, don't you think?

Back to newsletter hell for me.

Yeah, baby!
So, my day is complete. The Lube Stop man hit on me.
It was partially my fault.
He was showing me the different oil change things and recommended one for my car and I was like, "OK, yeah, go ahead and do that."
And then I added, "I'm easy."

Whoops.

Big eyebrow raise from Lube Stop dude. (Who, by the way, wasn't quite old enough to be my dad, but close.)

"Really." He says, suddenly becoming a LOT more friendly.

"Easy to please," I said, realizing immediately what I had done.

So he goes and does whatever Lube Stop Guys do, and then came back and had me move my car to the other bay, which meant that another waiting car also had to move. This pissed off the other car for some reason and it took off. Lube Stop Guy said something to me like, "Doesn't he know the rule that the pretty girl always gets the right of way?"

Mmm hmm.

So the whole oil change happens, and Lube Stop Guy I think was trying to be cool in front of me. You know when you can tell that people are trying to act cool? That's what this guy was doing. So finally, I'm ready to leave, and Another Lube Stop Guy was making fun of him for not knowing how to use a computer. He comes to tell me, confidentially, that his first wife and second wife always made fun of him for being computer illiterate, too.

I think he wanted to look under my chassis.
*Beavis laugh*

OK, I'm done now.

And now, a few words about the Big Brother finale
The right person won. I mean, the right person out of the two who were left. I was really really worried for a second that Cowboy would win and the world would spontaneously combust at the utter wrongness of that outcome. But Drew won, and he was "pumped" and it was "awesome" for him. Dude. Right. On.

We were subjected to Jase spewing his bittercakes, of course. Hasn't he gotten over this yet? Also, Jase, didn't you get the memo? Men do not wear makeup. Seriously. I've been to KISS concerts where the men didn't have as much makeup on. I have seen drag queens wearing less makeup. (OK, I've never actually been to a KISS concert, but you get the point, right?)

In completely related news, the right team also won on Amazing Race. And the best part of that finale was that Alison didn't get much camera time.

In completely unrelated news, I just spent an extra 45 minutes stuck in traffic and couldn't see any reason for it -- no accidents, just a bunch of extra morons on the road today I guess. Grr!

Ho hum
I just spent about 45 minutes scanning photos. Very monotonous work. If you'd even call it work. Lift the lid. Put a photo on the glass. Hit 'scan'. Wait for it to make all of its little whirring and beeping noises. Hit 'save' and think of a clever name to call it. Whirr and beep again. Take photo off glass and put a new one on. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Word of advice: never let a person like me be in charge of what photos will be put in the company newsletter. I will go for the embarrassment factor every time. If you look like an ass, you're going on the front page.

My work-related rant of the day is: don't clip your fingernails at work. I mean, if you break a nail and have to clip it, then fine. But don't sit there hunched over the trash can, and clip every single finger nail. Wait until you get home! Really, it can wait a few hours. I won't say who is guilty of doing this because he signs my paychecks.

Welcome to Cleveland
Yep. This about sums up a day in the life of a Cleveland sports fan.

Not sure what to make of this
The downstairs receptionist, who still calls me "KK" even though my initials have been "KJ" for over a year, just referred to me as "Dawson's Creek". As in, my husband and I are a "Dawson's Creek couple."

Having never watched this show I have no idea what that means and whether it's good or bad.

Congrats
To Britney Spears and her new bethrothed. Already it's lasted longer than her first marriage. Kudos to that.

This about says it all for today

Courtesy of the good folks at Engrish.com. What's that smell?

Buh-bye
Inappropriately-Dressed Admin has left the building. For good. I don't know whether to do the running man or the cabbage patch, so I'll do both.

Her last outfit was a short khaki skirt, too-tight pink top, and pink and brown tennis shoes with no socks. And her hair was in pigtails.

I went over to a co-worker after she left (without saying goodbye, btw) and then Kindly Old Granny Admin came over and said, "I didn't know that [IDA's] last day was today!"

We both nodded solemnly, trying not to grin too much.

"Boy," KOGA said. "She really worked hard every minute of the day that she was here!"

Um, yeah. If you call bidding on e-Bay merchandise working hard, then, yes, absolutely she did.

A very Mark Burnett Thursday
Survivor: Vanuatu premiered last night, and was a bit meh for my tastes. I had to cover my eyes during the pig slaughter as I expected I would have to. This is the first season where I don't know everyone's name, I don't have my fantasy team ready to go, and I haven't read up on all the spoilers. All I know as far as names go is Brook and Rory, and they're both guys. Actually Brook, well, so sorry pal.

Then I switched over to The Apprentice. Omarosa -- I mean, Stacey -- quickly got on my nerves. And bowtie guy, who last week I thought sounded like Gilbert Godfried, actually kind of grew on me. That dude who gave up his exemption -- whoops! Bet you feel like a chump now! See ya, wouldn't want to be ya.

Public service announcement
In preparation for National Talk Like a Pirate Day, which officially is Sunday, here is a useful site with all sort of pirate lingo. Arr, mateys!

And that brings us to today
I wasn't around much yesterday. I was away from my desk at some high-falootin' country club for a combo press conference (Topic: Our company bought some other company! Huzzah!) and reception (Topic: Our company bought your company! Huzzah!). Highlights included being away from my desk and getting an overly affectionate hug from a co-worker I barely know. So yeah.

Survivor starts tonight. Strangely I'm not as psyched as I usually am about that. Something about the ritual at the beginning, it looks like a large dead carcass. I'm not down with the dead carcass ritual I don't think.

Also, I am gearing up for a major mental breakdown when I watch the finale of Amish in the City next Tuesday. If Mose goes Amish I'm going to cry. If Miriam goes Amish I'm going to cry. If Jonas passes his GED I'm going to cry. If Cowboy wins Big Brother I'm going to cry.

This is a headphone-wearing day -- I'm stuck in the office alone with Screech, Kindly Old Granny Admin, my boss, and IDA (whose last day is tomorrow -- yay). Hopefully it will go quickly.

The Benefactor
So we're eating dinner last night, and I have "The Benefactor" on the TV in the living room and I can't stop watching it.

"What's this show about?" my husband asks.
"Uh..." I say, and a long pause follows. "I'm not really sure, to be perfectly honest."

And then I start fumbling through an explanation. "There's this rich guy, Mark Cuban, I've never heard of him, but there's these people and they're competing for a million dollars."

"Like the Apprentice?" he asks.

"I don't know. So far they're just sitting around talking. He already kicked someone off."

"Oh."

Post-show analysis: Mark Cuban kind of bugs me, and I haven't quite put my finger on why yet. I think he may remind me of someone I know. The goofy quality to this show (see the Jenga match for an example) appeals to me, but I'm lukewarm on the contestants at best. I will give this show one more week to wow me and then I will make my decision.

People You Don't Expect to See at the Craft Store
I was just at the craft store with a co-worker. We had to buy foam board and easels for a presentation tomorrow. So we tinker around with the easels for a while, lug our stuff to the checkout, and lo and behold, right in front of us in line is an Elvis wannabe helping his elderly mother carry her craft items out (I didn't happen to notice what they were). I'm talking full-out pompadour that was perfectly coiffed, sideburns, the whole deal. The only thing missing was the white sequin jumpsuit. And at 10:30 in the morning, no less. I bet he takes longer to get himself ready in the morning than I do. In fact, I'd be willing to bet on it.

What's up doc, can we rock?
Oh, no. Not again.
Another attempt by Shaq to rap.

News flash
This just in: Inappropriately Dressed Admin (IDA) has turned in her resignation. This is not a drill. Her last day is Friday. That means four more days of too-tight shirts with fat rolls, the flip flop heels, and the non-stop e-Bay bonanza.

And it's about damn time. She was making Bad Lady look like a model employee.

Mommy talk
I just overheard a conversation between Other Side of the Cube Mate, who just returned from maternity leave, and another expecting mother who is ready to go at any minute. They are comparing notes on their newborns, as the Other Expecting Mother has a baby at home as well. Other Expecting Mother said, in describing her daughter, "She's a chubba whubba but she's not a chunk-a-lunk. There's a difference."

HUH?

I'm not kidding when I say that once I have kids, if anyone EVER hears me utter a statement similar to this, you have my full permission to put me out of my misery.

Man how time flies!
I'm sitting here looking at pictures of a baby who belongs to this guy I went to grade school with, a guy whom I haven't thought about or spoken to in years, that someone e-mailed to me. In my mind he is still 13, and therefore, it is unfathomable that he should be married and with child.

It also really freaks me out when I hear that siblings of grade school friends, whose baby years I can clearly remember, are in high school now.

I'm getting old.

Angelarr!!!


Just when you thought Tony Danza had finally settled into obscurity, he has returned. And now he has a talk show. How long until we see a guest appearance by his former Who's the Boss castmates? I'm thinking a reunion special. With Danny Pintauro (Johnathan) and everything. Won't that be grand?

Posting for posting's sake
So I didn't end up watching "The Apprentice" last night. I watched maybe the first few minutes, and there was some contestant who sounded like Gilbert Gottfried, and I decided it was high time to find something else to do.

Good things about today:
1. Paychecks
2. Relatively calm at work
3. Going to my favorite Chinese restaurant tonight

Quite possibly the grossest thing I have ever seen
You have been warned. Actually, it's too late, because you are already seeing the visual which accompanied an e-mail sent to me by my mom...


Yes, that is a littlerbox. But it's not the gross kind that I have in my basement.

It's a cake. That PEOPLE ACTUALLY EAT.

Here is the e-mail that accompanied this photo...

This is for those practical jokers and "different" kind of bakers. THIS IS A REAL RECIPE!!!
CAT LITTER CAKE RECIPE
On a recent visit to our veterinarian to get shots for our cat I found
this recipe on the waiting room bulletin board. After recovering from
hysterical laughter, I obtained a copy from the office staff so that my
wife could make it, which she refused to do. I took it to work and gave
the recipe to a lady at work who loves cats. The pictures below show
the results of her work, which looks like S#%* but it's actually quite
tasty, so I decided to pass it along.
CAKE INGREDIENTS
1 box spice or German chocolate cake mix
1 box of white cake mix
1 package white sandwich cookies
1 large package vanilla instant pudding mix
A few drops green food coloring
12 small Tootsie Rolls or equivalent

SERVING "DISHES AND UTENSILS"
1 NEW cat-litter box
1 NEW cat-litter box liner
1 NEW pooper scooper

Prepare and bake cake mixes, according to directions, in any size
pan.

Prepare pudding and chill.
Crumble cookies in small batches in blender or food processor. Add a
few drops of green food coloring to 1 cup of cookie crumbs. Mix with
a fork or shake in a jar. Set aside.

When cakes are at room temperature, crumble them into a large bowl.
Toss with half of the remaining cookie crumbs and enough pudding to
make the mixture moist but not soggy. Place liner in litter box and pour
in mixture.

Unwrap 3 Tootsie Rolls and heat in a microwave until soft and
pliable. Shape the blunt ends into slightly curved points. Repeat
with three more rolls. Bury the rolls decoratively in the cake mixture. Sprinkle
remaining white cookie crumbs over the mixture, then scatter green
crumbs lightly over top.
Heat 5 more Tootsie Rolls until almost melted. Scrape them on top of
the cake and sprinkle with crumbs from the litter box. Heat the
remaining Tootsie Roll until pliable and hang it over the edge of the box.

Place box on a sheet of newspaper and serve with scooper. Enjoy!

___________

My favorite part of the recipe? That it tells you to get a NEW litterbox, liner, and scooper. Because you know some moron would just clean out their existing litterbox to do this.

Ew. This was too gross not to share.

Donald redux
Let me preface all of this by saying that no matter what, I'll end up watching it...

BUT.

Is anyone other than myself looking forward to the day when The Apprentice is cancelled? Already the Donald is everywhere again, talking about how great his show is, how he wanted "Friends Money" to do a second season, how all others have now created copycat shows (see Mark Cuban's "The Benefactor"), etc.?

Not only that, but this entire time between Apprentice l'original and Apprentice part deux, he has somehow commandeered my local radio station (read: a Clear Channel minion) into playing TWO spots per morning of his "Real Deal," where he spouts off random opinions on everything from how great his show was to how great his show is going to be to Britney Spears' upcoming nuptials to how his marriage to Melania whatever the hell her last name is will be everlasting, blah blah all about me cakes.

Like anyone cares.

It would be hard to have this new season be better than, or even as good as, the first season. Who will fill the shoes of the nefarious Omarosa? The sniveling Sam? The amiable Amy? The kvetching Kwame? (OK, I have no idea what that word means either.) The... oh hell, I can't remember anyone else's name from the show, you get my point. The success of the show wasn't about The Donald. They could have replaced his presence in the board room with Ronald McDonald and it still would have had the same results.

So we'll see. Will the Apprentice 2: Apprentices Take Manhattan live up to the hype? Will The Donald continue to toot his own horn ad nauseum? Will he ever fix that damn dead raccoon on top of his head? Time will tell.

Speak up
Comments are back... for the moment.
So leave one if you so choose.

Gimme a break, gimme a break
Damn, I wish I had a Kit Kat bar. *rummages through snack drawer*

Work has been quite hectic today. Incompetent but Likeable has been trying to tie up loose ends before he leaves for vacation at the end of the week. Most of which has involved coming over and going, "Hey Kath!" followed by a question such as "Can you check your e-mail and see if I sent this to you?" or various queries about how to send attachments. On top of that, several other things are going on so I'm a bit frazzled.

The remains of hurricane Frances are here and it has been pouring rain all day long. But nothing like it did in Florida, so I guess I can't complain. Well, technically, I CAN, but I won't.

Lastly, I'd like to leave you with this cool site, called Dubya Speak. If you need a reminder to register to vote, here it is.

Shame, shame, I know your name
I am embarrassed to admit this. When has that ever stopped me before?
Yesterday, I'm killing time, waiting for my husband to get back from the store so we can go to his parents' for a cookout. So I'm flipping through the channels. Jerry Springer held my interest for about 30 seconds until I just couldn't take it. So I surfed on over to.......

..... the Jerry Lewis telethon.

And the performer was Carrot Top.

And I watched it.

You know, I never realized that Carrot Top actually is built. At least in the upper arms. He is still the most unattractive man on earth, don't get me wrong, but I always thought he was a scrawny, awkward little man. Turns out he's a muscular, awkward little man.

*Sniff*
Double mfeviction week mfsucks. I'll mfmiss you, mfMarvin.
Mfhamsters.

Living the high life
My afternoon thus far consisted of dining at the Pizza Hut All-You-Can-Eat buffet with some co-workers. Luckily we went after the prime lunch hours so we were spared the usual dregs of society one would find at such an establishment.

On the way out, one of my cohorts noticed that there was a gumball/toy machine dispensing miniature plastic figurines called "Homies."

There were little pimps, ho's, Mariachi dancers (no joke), gun-totin' white guys, and other various offensive characters.

I had to have one.

But I got the lamest Homie of all: the cowboy Homie. He has a mustache akin to Tom Selleck in his Magnum: P.I. days, a big ole white cowboy hat, blue shirt unbuttoned to mid-chest, big gold medallion around his neck, and his hands are grasping his larger-than-life belt buckle. He stands proud at about two inches tall.

How can my day get better than this?

No comment
Comments are down.
On purpose.
Guess why.

Mmm hmm
Here's an interesting news story to start off the day: Weird Al mobbed by moths.

Have a good Labor Day weekend everybody!

Any takers?
Six gmail invites up for grabs!
If you are interested, please e-mail me at the address in the upper right corner. I think it wants a first and last name, also, so if I don't know you, please provide me with that info as well.

Strange conditions
Anyone catch the score of the Indians/Yankees game last night?
22-0.
Indians.
Usually we are on the zero side of these drubbings, but this time, not only did we shut out the Yanks, but we gave them their worst loss ever in Yankee stadium.

To every arrogant Yanks fan that was in Jacobs Field last week:
Nyah nyah nyah boo boo.
From me to you.