The upsides of staying with my parents while my car is being fixed:
1. There’s always food in the fridge.
2. No early curfew on weekdays (although I can’t really blame my roommate – she leaves the house at 6:45AM).
3. Use of a landline to find my phone when it gets burried underneath a pile of laundry.
The downsides of staying with my parents while my car is being fixed:
1. Someone always standing over you in the morning to make sure you wake up on time for work.
2. Re-adjusting to being “the kid.”
3. Constant nagging on whether or not you’ve paid your bills.
4. Having to share one computer with another person.
I’ve been able to keep myself occupied and sane by the following things:
1. Reading my copy of The Complete Far Side Collection.
2. Playing my ukulele.
3. Working a little bit on my script.
4. Dinner at 8 oz. with the Slackmistress and NoirBettie with a celebrity crush viewing of James Spader at the booth next to us.
I can’t complain. However, if my car isn’t ready by tomorrow, I’ll definitely be cranky.
It’s not quite as funny as that episode of Family Guy where Death gets injured and Peter takes over, but I seem to have the skill to bring death to those I see on the television.
My first act of mortality came casually. I was 15 or so, scanning the magazine racks at one of the favorite hangouts on the Promenade. On the cover of a music magazine was the [rather large] face of Big Pun, and I made a remark of, “Man, I wonder how he can breathe; he’s so big! He looks like a giant baby.” My BFF was with me, and we giggled over the picture.
A week or two later, he was dead. My BFF called me and started off with, “Remember how we were making fun of Big Pun? Well…he died.”
Of course, I felt bad. It felt like I had issued the hit to my button men of health and they took him out.
Fast forward to 2005. Glenn and I were still dating at that point; we were chatting when I told him my Big Pun story. Then the words fly from my fingers: “It was completely random. Like if I mentioned Peter Jennings.”
World News Tonight on ABC came on with the announcement that someone is filling in for Peter Jennings. I panicked for a second, but realized that the Pope had just passed away and that he might be traveling to cover the funeral.
A few days later, Glenn sends me an email with a news link that breaks Peter Jenning’s announcement of being diagnosed with lung cancer. “You really did kill him” were the words that accompanied the link.
However, I take absolutely no blame in the tragic car accident that took the life of Nick Adenhart early this morning. Yes, I was there last night at The Studio Bar. Yes, I watched the Angels game with Glenn, Greg, Jeff, Reese, and Bill. Yes, I told my Peter Jennings story.
But I can’t take credit for this one.
That’s the L word I’m going to apply to the show from now on.
A couple of weeks ago I made a post about how I had made “The Chart”. My name, with the exact same spelling, was right underneath the name Tina was writing on the board to reflect Bette’s infidelity.
That was kind of funny.
Now I’m annoyed by a more recent turn of events.
I’ve just finished Season Four. Apart from the seemingly outrageous plot twists that have been coming up, the straw that broke the camel’s back was this one:
Corporate America people are not that creative when it comes to pranks. More often than not it’s the removal of a stapler or the phone getting unplugged so you can’t make calls.
It helps when you work with someone who celebrates Halloween to its fullest; you know for sure that something will go down on April 1st. And she got me and the IT department good last year.
I have a snazzy wireless keyboard and mouse on my desk at work. The biggest downfall of these two is that I don’t really know when the batteries need to be recharged until one or the other stops working completely. So on April 1, 2008, I figured this happened when my mouse stopped working.
Of course, I was going to troubleshoot as much as possible before I went to Prop Ops to get new batteries. I shook it, I double checked the cables for the router to the keyboard and mouse, restarted the computer, and readjusted the position of said router in case of obstruction.
I realized the inevidable and got up to get batteries. And it wasn’t until I flipped the mouse over did I see this covering the laser:
P.S.Happy half-birthday, Paula Bergan!
A couple of weeks ago I posted this in the hopes that I might get selected to be Will’s fill-in on Be The Marriage. Being one who hates suspense, I thought I’d wait ’til after the show to find out who the winner was. Unfortunately, a night of dinner with my parents, followed by a Korean soap opera, wasn’t too thrilling, so I caught the last 30 minutes.
I was pleasantly surprised to learn that I was the runner-up for the show.
Some of you might say, “But you didn’t win! How is that good?”
I say to the some of you: being a runner-up is a pretty damn good thing. Look at the list of American Idols. A lot of times we forget who won, but we usually remember who the runner-up was.
I only met him once, and spent only a few hours with him, but I have to say that this was one of the sweetest dogs I’ve ever come across:
Working in hospitality, you never know who will be on the other end of the line. I’ve received all kinds of bizarre calls, but today’s caller takes the cake.
A pilot staying at the hotel was disturbed by a housekeeper today, despite the fact that he had a Do Not Disturb sign on the door. I apologized for the disturbance and told him that I’d let our Director of Housekeeping follow up with him (I can’t really scold Housekeeping; they’d think I was trying to act high and mighty). The pilot asked me what I was going to do about it, and I repeated that I’d let our Director of Housekeeping follow up with him.
He proceeded to tell me that he could call the FAA because he hadn’t rested properly, and that if ended up crashing a plane with 200 passengers, the blood would be on my hands. The news media would come up to me and ask why I let the situation go by so casually.
Usually I’d be plenty sore after a stupid comment like that, but this one cracks me up. I’d be pissed as well if housekeeping woke me up, but hey…it’s not kosher to say that I’m responsible for the possible death of lots of people (although the thought of having that kind of power without actually committing the deed is kind of neat).
Let’s hope for his sake I don’t end up in a car accident on the way home. Then you all can blame him for sending bad vibes that caused me to get hurt.