22 February 2010

Washington's Birthday Randomness

If you refer back to an older post, this will make more sense. On the way to work this morning, I saw a Pepto-colored Nissan 280(?). There was a number in the upper corner of the windshield, so I would assume that it was once some sort of fleet vehicle, but what company, besides the one that makes Pepto, would have Pepto-colored cars? Maybe it was the second pink Horseman of the Apocalypse?

I spent Saturday afternoon with my nephew and his mom. He was so happy to see me, which made me all gooshy. Throughout the day, he called me Carrie, Terri, or Harry. Since he was mostly right, I'll give it a pass. He fell asleep on me while watching Elmo. And since he's in the repeat everything phase, I got him to say "dude". Also, in the "Kids Say the Darnedest Things" category, his dad taught him this little trick. If you ask my nephew what's for dinner, he will promptly say "Beef!" Bloody hysterical. I told his dad I give him a case of beer if he could get his son to reply "Pork" when asked what the other white meat is.

Once he was down for his nap, his mom and I got a chance to kick back and watch some Olympics. She promptly chastised me for not writing anything about the opening ceremonies. I told her that I didn't see the point because they were so snore-worthy. It would seem that I was supposed to write about the extreme level of boredom. Here goes: the opening ceremonies for the Winter Olympics was really really boring. In fact, it was so forgettable, that I can't even think of anything remotely snarky to say about it. I'm sure there was some traditional dancing/singing happening, and I know the commentators made shitty comments about some of the countries with smaller delegations. I don't think I would have had anything more to say if I had written about it the night it happened.

My current bathroom book is God Hates You, Hate Him Back, by CJ Werleman. It's a point-by-point breakdown of the hypocrisy and general shittiness of the Bible. The guy is a reasonably entertaining writer, but I sometimes feel that he's being a little too, oh I don't know, too snarky, I guess. I'm not defending the Bible here, not at all, but I think it's better to make your point in a more scholarly manner. But that's not what I was going to talk about. I was going to mention the author's use of the word "grizzly". Mr Werleman, I do believe you meant "grisly", especially since you were talking about terrible and bloody acts. Unless you were talking about biblical bear attacks - which didn't seem to be the case. And this doesn't fall under the "callous/calloused" heading. "Grizzly", if you aren't talking about bears, means gray-flecked. Maybe Moses was pretty grizzled, but his acts weren't.

19 February 2010


A few of us at work ordered from PF Chang's today. I have to give them props for giving you the option to order online. There's never any argument about who is placing the order when it only involves clicking. In case you were wondering, I did the ordering. And now I'm signed up for sundry coupons and exciting PF Chang's news.

This was my first PF Chang's experience. I ordered the salmon lunch bowl, which came with asparagus and brown rice (my choice). There was also a grilled half a lemon for garnish(?). The lunchbox came with egg drop soup, which most closely resembled, texturally anyway, chilled chicken broth. I added a little vinegar and chili oil to it, but it still wasn't anything amazing. I gave up on it about halfway through.

I also got a small order of Asian slaw, which was supposed to be Napa cabbage and red pepper and scallions. Well, cabbage was present, along with carrots, but I didn't see any red pepper or scallions. I fucking love scallions and I feel a bit gypped. The dressing was supposed to be a creamy citrus and I guess it was. I mean, it was cream and bright fucking yellow. Like glow in the dark yellow. It was definitely creamy, but there wasn't much citrus to speak of. I think they should retool the recipe a little, and maybe make the dressing more rice vinegar-based, with a shot of lime juice to liven things up. Don't misunderstand me, I ate all of it and it was tasty, but it fell a bit short of my expectations.

On to the entree...

The piece of salmon was good for the price I paid. Probably around 6-7oz and the lunch bowl was 9.95. Remember, it also included rice, asparagus, and soup. Oh, and the charred lemon half. The outside of the fish was nicely charred, but I think some people would prefer the insides to be a little more well-done. I like my salmon on the rarer side, so I was very happy with it. The brown rice was brown rice. I pepped it up a bit with a splash of the "Special sauce". Shockingly enough, at least to those who know me, I ate half of the asparagus. It wasn't half-bad. In fact, it was pretty tasty. My cube mate ate the rest.

I found their fortune cookies too sweet, so I only ate half. I wonder if that means my fortune (something about my ambition and making a name for myself) will only be half true. Not that I've noticed all my other cookie fortunes becoming reality. I'd be much richer and more famous by now.

I decided to sit at my desk and pick at my teeth with one of PF's toothpicks. OK, they weren't branded or anything. Moving along. These toothpicks were possibly the bluntest toothpicks ever. Did someone on PF's legal team think they could avoid a slew of toothpick and gums-related lawsuits? Honestly, the ends were flat; no crevice penetration at all.

Overall, my PF's experience was good, not great. Maybe it would have been different if we were eating in the restaurant, but I can't blame a lack of flavor/imagination on transportation time. Still, it was a nice change of pace from The Works.

18 February 2010


There is something wrong with me (shut up). I have never considered myself an especially patriotic person, or the type to get overly emotionally involved in sports (the exception being my never-quite-good-enough Eagles). Imagine my surprise when I found myself getting all choked up when Lindsay Vonn won her damn gold medal. This wouldn't be such a big deal, but I'm finding this weird emotional shit is showing itself in other ways...like during fucking BMW commercials.

No, I didn't just start bawling or anything, but I'm finding that I am far more susceptible to advertisers' wiles than I ever used to be. And I can't even blame it on being all PMS-y. I'm the person who doesn't cry at movies, or TV shows, or anything really. Two movies my entire life have brought tears to my eyes, and one of them was An American Tail. Yeah, the Fievel movie. What? When he's calling out "Papa! Papa!" I just fell to pieces. The fact that I was about 8 at the time makes no difference. The only other movie to have the effect was Hotel Rwanda. Amazing movie - don't watch it.

I realized a while ago that it's OK to cry at movies and TV shows and the like. Not that anyone had ever told me otherwise. I always felt like crying at entertainment was, dunno, super-girly, and made every effort not to do it. But you know, these actors and directors are trying to entertain you and, sometimes, to move you. If so and so actor has some amazing performance and I feel the tightness building up in my throat and chest, I might let the tears come to my eyes. It's a compliment to the performer and all the others involved in the production. Plus, if something can make me cry, you know there's got to be something there.

This doesn't mean that I'm OK with getting stupidly emotional during adverts. I will do whatever I can to avoid such an occurrence. I blame the Olympics.

In an exciting case of synchronicity, JR: Fact or Crap? Paul McCartney's "Yesterday" was recorded more than 1500 times in 20yrs. Come on! You know you know!

11 February 2010


Yep, that's my little car, buried in the snow. That path you see? Yeah, I forged that at 6:30 this morning with only my legs and determination, fueled by coffee. That phallic-looking thing in the foreground is the support post for a wild rose plant outside my bedroom window. The plant always had a tendency to lean, but I'm afraid it's never coming back from this.

I was going to do the right thing, dig out my car and go to work. Unfortunately, my parking lot hasn't been plowed yet, so the 8" of clearance my car has isn't quite up to the foot of snow in the parking lot. I obviously managed to clean off my car, but I didn't have a lot of success with the shoveling. There's just no fucking place to put it.

This next picture is the view from my living room window and the wall of snow blocking the usual access to the lot.

Don't get me wrong, I'm all about days off from work, but I have to use personal time if I want a normal paycheck. Also, there's some small part of me that feels super guilty for not making more of an effort to break free of my snow restraints. But I really don't want to get trapped somewhere on the road, or have someone slide into me, or for me to slide into someone, etc. In order to quiet that stupid little voice, I'll probably scrub the hell out of my bathroom. I've already cleaned the kitchen. I will say this: if the plow comes through soon, I will re-dig out and go in for a half day. Really.

08 February 2010

{Insert Clever Title Here}

As you may be aware of, the East Coast got hit with a fairly bad snowstorm this past weekend - and they are saying that we are due for more. Yay. I'm a snow is only for skiing kind of person, especially since my apartment complex is pretty terrible about clearing the parking lot. Really though, that isn't the worst part. The worst part is that a large percentage of my coworkers can't seem to find a topic of conversation other than this pending storm. Yes, having another 8"-12" dumped on us would bite. No, I don't want to volunteer to stay at a local Holiday Inn so I can be shuttled into work on Wednesday. (Yes, my work is really asking people to do that. Joys of working in the medical-ish field.)

Moving right along...

Stupidest thing said during the Super Bowl: He caught that ball with his hands. I do get that the announcer (probably the mostly useless Phil Simms, I don't remember) meant that the receiver didn't catch the ball against his chest, but oy. Also, what the fuck is up with the "stats" that they show for various players? Don't tell me that kicker X is the 4th lowest ranked without also telling me if that is only against other kickers this season, how many total kicks, etc. Is his percentage the 4th lowest? I need all the info or I'm calling bullshit on the NFL stats. Well, I've been calling bullshit all season, but this is the one that sticks from last night.

And next up is...

I watched a fair number of action flicks on Saturday, Blade:Trinity (shut up) being one of those. Question: What happened to the little girl after Jessica Biel's character unchains her? I wouldn't think that stashing her somewhere in a building full of vampires would be a great idea. It really almost would have made more sense to rescue her after neutralizing the threat. But it is, after all, a corny movie based on a comic, so I don't let it bother me.

Back to the Super Bowl...

Specifically, the Audi eco-fascism ad. I have no issue with recycling or fuel-efficiency or resuable coffee cups, but I do have an issue with an eco police state. Yeah yeah, it was supposed to be funny, I get it, but how is being all Big Brother about my trash any better than, well, any other Big Brotherish thing? I don't want any sort of unlimited power monitoring all facets of my life. Y'know, no more than they already are.

01 February 2010

Ladies, is it just me...

Or does the idea of having sex while dealing with a yeast infection sound completely unsexy? Even using a 1-day treatment, I probably wouldn't feel fully comfortable having dick in me until all the squish and mess was cleared up. And speaking on behalf of the fellas, I can't imagine that the idea of having your little soldier inside the quarantine zone would make for a long-lasting session. I mean, do you know what the discharge looks like? Ugh.

No, I don't have these thoughts pop into my head randomly. I was doing something at work which dealt with the idea of yeasty sex and couldn't help but contemplate the idea. Then again, it's been long enough since I've had sex, that I might not care what's going on down south.