Friday, November 20, 2009

Photo blogging- sort of...

I'm still sick.

I haven't been able to sleep well due to coughing fits so I've been functioning on automatic pilot.

Because of that, my blogging time has suffered.

[wait for cries of shame to die down]

I've decided to take random activities and post about them as if they were the most interesting content to be found on the Internet. Here is the first one:

Today I am having a Tex-Mex Chicken panini from Lean Cuisine.

I used the knife you see there to cut it in half so that the contents don't end up in my cleavage.

What sucks is that now I have to wash the knife with the cheap sponge that's in the kitchen. I may have to scrub it forever to remove the caked on panininess.

Maybe I'll just throw it away.

And that is my exciting lunch tale!

Thursday, November 19, 2009

This is why I don't like to come in early.

I've been sitting outside for a half hour, waiting for a key holder to
come in and unlock the door.

I could have slept for another half an hour and gotten more beauty sleep. At my age, I need all the help I can get

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Once upon a time there was a family of ugly globs living in my lungs...

http://images.usatoday.com/money/_photos/2006/03/20/inside2-adtrack-mucinex.jpg http://observantbystander.files.wordpress.com/2007/05/mucinex-conga.jpg

It all started on Friday THE THIRTEENTH ooh spoooooky!

I came down with some bug. Last year I was rarely sick but it seems this year will be the year of the Funkyflus for me.

As you may or may not know, you simply cannot be sick while working at the Asylum. People immediately start shielding themselves from you and spraying every area you touch with bleachlike substances. While your hand is still touching the object! I don't know why they treat people like pariahs when they're ill. With the exception of OZ, it's not like we go out licking unsanitary hookers on purpose!

So, I decided to keep my illness (which I believe was passed on to me by that evil OZ!) on the down-low. Unfortunately for me, at the earliest sign of any illness, my voice is the first to go. Added to that, I have this creepy cough that I haven't been able to get rid of for over a month. That cough has irritated my throat and, I'm assuming because I am not a licensed professional, my vocal chords. So instead of my sweet HIGH PITCHED voice OF A NINE YEAR OLD, I sound like a 1920s hustler whose had too many cigarettes, booze and good times. The voice is a little less Mae West and a lot more Elmer Fudd-y. I will call this my alter ego and name her Lullibell. What the hell was I talking about? Oh right! I'm sick.

I went to work and as soon as I said something, everyone pounced on me.

"Are you sick?"
"Sounds like something's cookin'!"
"Your hair looks great!"

I told them I felt fine but I felt a little congested. Immediately Glynda told me to go home. Since I no longer have any more time off left in the season, I told her that I would go home if they paid me for the day. She stared at me blankly and said "No, but I don't want you to give it to us" and that's when I said "This is harassment!" no I actually told her that if she did not get it from kissing OZ's ass, then she wouldn't get it from me.

I struggled the whole day to appear healthy but once I got home that evening, my bravado evaporated. I sat on the sofa coughing and whimpering, waiting for Tom Cruise to come heal me. Bastard never showed.

I managed to run some errands on Saturday but on Sunday all I did was wallow in self pity, vowing to make the world a bitter place if I came out of this alive.

On Monday, I called in sick because I had trouble sleeping and I knew I would look like a zombie on meth and therefore be judged by the bats because even though looking like zombies on meth is their permanent look, it's unacceptable for me to come down with any illness. I decided to stay home and rest. I slept until 2pm. TWO PM! It was almost dinner time! I felt better, still a little cough-y but the headache and lightheadedness were gone.

Join me in the present day, Tuesday, where I'm driving to work and practicing my 'good mornings' because I don't want my voice to sound all scratchy when I greet Glynda.

First, I sounded like Lurch  "Good morning!" nope try again "GOOD MORNING!" that sounded like Jack McFarland on helium. Bring it down a few notches "Good morning!" now I'm Oscar the freaking Grouch! Good, I'm getting closer! I would be able to fool people into thinking I was 100% better and they wouldn't irritate me with their obnoxious insinuations of me infecting the whole office thereby taking years off their lives. I high fived myself in the rear view mirror and that's when I realized . . .

My life? Pathetic.

Friday, November 13, 2009

Interview with Robert Kroese author of Mercury Falls.

 

http://mercuryfalls.net/Images/cover_250x377.png 

Mercury Falls

In full disclosure, I received this book for free from Rob Kroese. This in no way shape or form alters what I would say about the book because I have also been giving free paella and I've never felt the need to lie and say I liked it when in fact it made me want to rip my tongue out of my mouth and then jackhammer it into oblivion. It still makes me shiver!

Anyway, here we go:

Rob, I was pleasantly surprised to find I really liked your book. Not to say I doubted your talent but I honestly didn't know what to expect.

I've read around the Internet where people are comparing your book to Kevin Smith's Dogma but, while the subject matter is similar, I have to say that the dialogue reminded me more of the Princes Bride (book and movie). That is not an insult by the way because I love the Princess Bride (book and movie). The back and forth between the character was always entertaining.

Since I am no more a book reviewer than I am an interviewer, I decided to simply say that you wrote a great book and people should go buy it here:

Amazon-Mercury Falls

I do have a few questions I'd like to ask you if you don't mind. Also, please answer my questions with a British accent because, like I've said before, you sound like Hugh Laurie in my head.http://tvcocktail.ivillage.com/entertainment/E_HughLaurie_325.jpg

Q:
Your book opens with one of the main characters reporting on doomsday cults, basically ridiculing their whole philosophy and shining a light on their hypocrisy, were you giggling as you wrote each sentence?

The funny thing about that opening scene is that it was about the last thing I wrote. I had the whole book done and then I realized I needed a better opening scene to introduce the main character, Christine, and explain why she's so burned out with her job. And while that chapter is one of my favorite parts of the book, I didn't actually giggle through it. I did, however, laugh maniacally through the whole "history of apocalypse-related linoleum shortages" in the beginning. It's probably nowhere near as funny as I thought it was, but that was one part where I really did laugh out loud while I was writing it. 

By the way, I take the comparison to The Princess Bride as a big compliment. The movie has some wonderful dialog. I haven't read the book, but it's one of my wife's favorites.

Q:
I'm sure a lot of people have asked you this question, what made you pick The Apocalypse as the topic for your book? And answering 'a bad burrito' is not an option.

The book really started with the idea of Mercury, this angel who is basically a good guy but has no interest in doing what he's been told to. I wanted to get Mercury in a lot of trouble with his superiors, and I figured the best way to do that would be to give him some kind of really important job that he doesn't want to do. And what's more important than the apocalypse?

So Mercury is supposed to be helping out with the apocalypse, but he's just not interested. He's a little like Ron Livingston's character in "Office Space." He doesn't want to do his job, but he doesn't really want to quit either. So he plays ping-pong. 

Q:
While I am a reasonably intelligent chick (most days), do you feel your book was written in a manner that can only be enjoyed by people with superior brain power?

Nah, plenty of stupid people have told me they love the book.

Actually, my wife told me I use "too many big words" too, but hey, if I'm going to entertain you, then by golly, I'm gonna learn you something too. Anyway, you can just skip the big words and philosophical tangents. Basically it's an adventure story with a lot of explosions.

Q:
There was a blogger, and I apologize for not remembering who, that reviewed your book and stated he enjoyed it but he also commented that the one drawback was the cover illustration and then he used a fancy word for *font spacing*. I personally do not have a problem with it because I once did an experiment where I bought 5 random books based solely on the cover (a post for another day) and my conclusions were all over the place, is there something you'd like to clear up/explain/shrug and say 'stuff it!' here?

Yeah, that was Dave from Blogography. I was actually thrilled that he liked the book, because he's not the sort of person to give you a good review to soothe your ego.

As for his comments on the cover, well, he's a graphic designer and I'm not. I bow to his expertise. :)

[This is Bee, I just checked out Dave's site, Blogography and he does have mad skills! (do kids still say that?)]

Q:
When your book is made into a movie, can I be cast as Christine? You describe her as having odd features that don't really belong together but for some reason make her face fascinating, do I or do I not look exactly like the image of Christine in your head?:

bee fracture 

I see you more as Katie Midford, the mysterious author of the best selling (and possibly demon-inspired) Charlie Nyx books. I believe she is described as "middle-aged but not unattractive."

Q:
Along the same lines of the above question, when the movie comes out and the producers tell you that they require you to use this song as the background music for a scene, in what sequence of events would you place this hcrappy, why-on-earth-is-this-playing-on-my-radio, song?

I love that song. It's like Death Cab for Cutie meets They Might Be Giants. I'd like that song to be played at low volume, almost subliminally, throughout the whole movie.

Q:
When my husband gave me a dog for our 5th anniversary, I had a witch of a time finding a name for her and finally went with a suggestion from my sister. That's why I was so amazed you came up with all those angel names! Can you tell us what you used for inspiration? And answering 'tequila' is not an option (but it is an adventure).

For a few of them, I Googled "angel names" and picked ones that sounded good. I made up "Ederatz" and "Izbazel." Another one, Bamrud, was named after a friend of my wife's.

My favorite character, by the way, is Perpetiel ("Perp" for short). He's such a helpful little runt.

Q:
Would you think less of me if I told you I can't say the word Apocalypse unless I'm look at it? And by *it* I mean the word, not the actual event. It always comes out like this: wait, let me close my eyes. . . Apclopyse, Acopolypse, Rutabaga!

Rutabaga was actually the original name of the book of Revelation in the Bible. A secret organization named Opus Vegi made the Church change it in the 4th century A.D. So you're good.

And to end the interview:

Q:
What would you say distinguishes you and your book  from other authors who are mass producing vampire books (besides the lack of vampires, better writing, better story plot, better characters and self respect?)?

Lack of success?

Seriously, I can't be too hard on those writers. It's just too bad that the publishing industry has gotten to the point where unless your book fits the current bestseller mold, you can't get any interest. I wrote the sort of book that I would want to read, and if other people want to read it to, that's fantastic. But if not, at least I've written a book I'm proud of.


♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣♣

You can google angel names? Who knew?

Rob Kroese, ladies and gentlemen! Go buy his book!

Thursday, November 12, 2009

How does a girl spend her 37th birthday? Glad you asked!

I woke up bleary eyed and stumbling, as per usual, and received my birthday hug from my Andy along with a beautiful card full of words of love and shmoopiness.

Who has 2 thumbs and is blessed to have a great man? [thumbs pointing at myself] This girl!

I then went to the mirror to yawn and admire my beauty before I showered and that's when I noticed— Have any of you experienced that eerie feeling of dread when you're brushing your teeth and you're afraid of looking in the mirror because it may not be your face looking back at you but that of a sinister being with shiny red eyes and sharp teeth? Well that's what happened to me on my birthday!

red eye (why couldn't this have happened on Halloween?? I would have had a ton of fun scaring the little people!)

It seems I'm allergic to the new eyeliner I bought and neglected to remove before going to bed last night. I remember my thought was "meh. I'm all cozy in bed, what harm can it do?" well, it can make your eyes blood red and give the appearance of pink eye, that's what!

I had to go the whole day of my birthday responding to the "Oh, you have pink eye!" comment everybody was making.

"No, I do not have pink eye you sick bitches! I'm allergic to my new eyeliner" and then they would look at me out of the corner of their eye as they made
their way out of my *pink eye infested* space.

It is a serious insult to ask someone if they have pink eye. I'd rather people ask me if I know how to speak Mexican (you'd be surprised how many times I have
to respond with "do you know how to speak Unitedstatesofamerican?").

Terrifying eyes aside, I did enjoy the day. After I removed the sheet of ice from my car.

cell 11.11.09 007 

Which brings me to another question, how did Alex from Madagascar get in my car?

cell 11.11.09 008

I haven't chauffeured a munchkin in years!

Thank you to all who wished me a happy birthday on the blogus, facebook, email, text message, phone call, via card and in person. You guys rock! Almost as much as I do.

cell 11.11.09 010 cell 11.11.09 012 cell 11.11.09 014

 

Stay tuned on Friday for my interview with Robert Kroese, Author of Mercury Falls, dude behind Mattress Police and Humor Blogs.

I will ask hard hitting questions like, "If you were a chair, what kind of chair would you be... and why?" serious stuff right there!

Wednesday, November 11, 2009

Ahhhh 37! I liked you better when you were 10 years younger!

♪♫ Today is my birthday! thun thun thun thun thun!!

I still have to go to work! Bhun nunanunun!!

I had to buy my own cake to bring to the asylum! Ledadidadee!!

Everybody, including Andy, thought my birthday was on the wrong day!  Peepampeepapoo!!

I suck at rhyming! Fafeefufafoo!!

I'm dehydrated from all of the booze! Baneeneenanonoo!!
... ... ... ♪♫


I'm at a loss on how to end the song.

Anyway.

I know it's my birthday but I, being the giver that I am, have a gift for you. An embarrassing picture of me at age 7/8/9ish?

me in bathroom

I know you have a lot of questions. "Where did you buy your cool guy shirt?" "Were those glasses as big as your head?" Why OH WHY did someone take a picture of you in the BATHROOM?"

I can answer your questions or I can dance instead!

Vogue with me people!! 

My mind? Gone!

Monday, November 9, 2009

Clarification, Pontification, Stupefaction. I think.

Just to clarify, my birthday isn't until Wednesday November 11th. Oh joy of joys. 37. 3 more and I get a set of spatulas. I'm registered at Tiffany's.

The picture I posted yesterday was of a bee (get it? because I'm Bee?] hanging from a noose. The Asylum was getting to me until I realized I could either work or play. Guess which one I chose. Also, Andy thought it was a potato.

Andy [from his dungeon]: Is that a potato? 

Me: What? Is what a potato?? [as I'm trying to make fajitas for 8 without setting fire to my cabinets. You know, again]

Andy: The picture on your blog, is it a potato?

Me: Nooooo. It's a bee.

Andy: I don't get it.

Me: It's a bee hanging from a noose. Because I was stressed at work?

Andy: Oh, I hadn't seen the noose.

Me: ... [hot oil splashing on my face]

Andy: I still think it looks like a potato.

Because he loves to torture me.

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Regarding OZ being an asswipe. Instead of feeling sympathy for the error in my bank account, he interrogated me because I asked for a copy of my cashed paycheck and treated me like a sneaky criminal who was capable of funneling money from his account to my account via my paycheck. Oh wait. That's not criminal at all, right? I mean, if I perform a service for, let's say, a person who hires me, shouldn't I expect payment? It's not like I can cash the same check twice and to make matters more complicated, the second time I cash the check it will be via a photocopy. I know I'm a genius but even I have my limitations.

For some reason he didn't believe the bank teller had deposited my check into the wrong account. He also found it hard to believe that Andy knew our account number by heart and then he suggested I no longer do a manual deposit slip, did I know that the bank could generate some with our account number already on them? I asked him if he treated accident patients the same way. "When a guy on a motorcycle gets hit by a car, do you berate them for not knowing the car was going to hit them?" It wasn't our fault the cashier decided to guess as to what number was on the deposit slip and didn't bother to check the name on the account with the name on the deposit slip.

I said to Andy, 'you know, I grow tired of calling him an *asshole* because it does not express the magnitude of my disgust for him but I am so limited with my swears (because I am a God fearing short woman). Wait! You are the master of profanity, give me a new one for him!" His response was so vile I am putting it at the end of this post.* Who knew I had the delicate sensibilities of a fragile little hummingbird?

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Do you guys remember the dude I translated for who had an ankle fracture and his main concern was having "relations" with his woman? He came in last week to drop off some insurance paperwork. I had been talking to him for a few minutes when I realized something.

Me: Hey, who drove you here? [as I pointed at his cast and crutches]

Him: I drove myself. My woman doesn't drive. [hmmmm]

Me: Uh, I don't think you should be driving considering your cast is all the way up to your knee.

Him: Oh, I'm okay. Look, I can put weight on my leg now. [stands on leg with the fracture]

Me to him: Don't do that! [to myself "Oh sure, you don't ask permission to drive but you ask for a green light to have sex with your woman!]

 

My head hurts from all the shaking of it.

 

 

 

 

*"You mean like Taint Weasel?" (eep!)

 

 

 

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My happy place

my happy place