Fantabulous Friday!

Fridays are generally good. All of them. It marks the end of the work week and the start of the weekend. (and if you don't love weekends - I don't know you)

I woke up late today (hardly unusual) and didn't have time for breakfast. This is normally cause for grumpiness (I'm unpleasant when I'm hungry.) ('Unpleasant' is an understatement.) ('Understatement' also being an understatement.) but today I held my head up high because I had 4 purchases on iTunes just waiting to jump out of my iPhone and soothe my soon to be famished soul.

I'm also nearing the end of Dracula so there's that too. (I love that you can read books on the iPhone! How unacceptable would it be if I had a full on book at my desk; A book with pages to turn and stuff- my wherewolf *ahem* Supervisor would have a field day!) (Full Moon Night?)

Actually, he's not very aggressive. You know how SpiderMan is like SPIDERMAN-all saving the world (or just New York City) and stuff and his alter ego is this weenie boy of a man Peter Parker? It's like that. Except in his case the whole dressing up as a WhereWolf thing is seasonal (as far as I know...or even want to know for that matter!) and high schoolers and middle schoolers...and grown-ups aren't always nice (understatement) to the minimum wage monsters...okay, he's nothing like any superheros just the weenie alter egos. I digress.

I knew today was going to be a particularly good Friday when there were bagels (BAGELS!) in the kitchen! I don't know about you but I love me some bread! And bagels? Num, num, num...

And have you been reading the blogs today?! Normally Fridays aren't the best day for the Blogosphere (don't you love how you can just insert 'blog' into anyword and make it blogworthy? Oh look, you can add it to words too!) (I'm a dork. I know this.) but today, today it seems like everyblog I've read is super funny and/or interesting! And make me want to jump out of my seat and shout "YES!" while pointing with a [toothepaste commercial sized] [or Mentos commercial] smile at the computer. (Not the "Bob" smile though-that's too much smile.)

I'm hoping that my debit and credit cards are waiting for me in my mailbox when I get home. Actually, I'm counting on it because of said iTunes purchases my Gift Card will not last the weekend...

A great jump off for the upcoming weekend, no?

AND it's not been cold as shit lately. (Icing on the cake!)

AND it's PayDay! Sweet Jeezus, the Gods are smiling down on me TODAY! Ooooh Weeee! (Most definately the cherry and whip-cream and chocolate syrup and nuts on the cake!) (With a side of Chocolate Malted Crunch Ice Cream!)

I gotta go buy a Lottery Ticket! Big Money coming my way! I can FEEL it!

Sto Imparando Li Italiano

Night One of my Conversational Italian class.

I had a bet going with my mom that I would be ("by far") the youngest in the class. I walked into a class of senior citizens and pulled out my phone to text her when I realized that I was 10 minutes early anybody younger than me or even near my age would most certainly not come to class 10 minutes early. (This was out of character for me.) I, myself, consider within the first 5 minutes "early", the first 10 minutes "on-time" and then I stop counting cuz who admits that they are late? Not me. (Clearly.)

After the rest of the class showed, there may be 1 other girl that is around my age but I'm pretty sure that I have a free dinner coming to me in the near future.

So my teacher is nuts. (which I love. Love the characters!)

• Toe socks with (non-thong) sandals. Check.
• Raggamuffin hairdo that puts my little cousins RaggaMuffin Do after a hard day of 1st grade play to SHAME. Check.
• Thick rimmed blue glasses. Check.

She has a cat-earred headband that she wears sometimes too.

She has mad energy that is shooting out her hair (Read: RaggaMuffin Do) and talks a mile a minute stumbling over her words in excitement/"nervousness".

She has no kids, teaches kindergardners, another Italian class and jazzercise. Wow, right? Yes. But it's good because she's goofy and entertaining and if she can teach kindergarders to read than she can most certainly teach me Italian, right? (I'm optimistic.)

What Happened?

Today is day 4 of no credit/debit cards.

I am a survivor.

Okay, I am surviving off an AmEx gift card that I got for Christmas. Ya, I know, unbelievable right? Nobody, nobody still has gift cards left over from Christmas and especially not one that can be used practically everywhere*. But I do (an exception to the rule? Maybe.) and without it I would be broke out on the streets with a piece of cardboard and an old tin coffee cup that I took from a sleeping Vietnam war vet (or whatever their called) next to the freeway begging for extra change.

Or not. But it’s been tough without my cards. (They’re like my grown-up blanky.)

But I guess you reap what you sowe. (Or something.)

Everybody has their drinks of choice. Mine (lately) are champagne, wine or Margaritas (I love me some Tequila). But Saturday night, already irritated with the meanness of my friend sober was not what I wanted to be, I was getting down to biznaz which (to me) is AMF. Also known as an “Adios Mother F***er” or simply “Adios”, it’s blue, it’s yummy, warms the tummy and well, it’s all in a name, right? Right.

Three (heavy handed) AMF’s later, a shot of Kamikazi, a sudden (turn for the worst)head/stomach change and a flash of realization that I had not eaten dinner and Houston, we have a problem! Immediately started flashing through my mind in big, bright, Vegas-style letters. (Not helping.)

Ugliness ensues…

So anyway, I have a kick ass card case with 4 cards in it: Driver Liscense, Debit Card, Visa, AmEx. In other words, this card case is My World. (Or Grown-Up Blankey. Either way.) Gone. Missing. Shit. Shit. Shit!

Why is it that the most beautiful Sundays gets no love from me because some kind of twisted law of being in your 20’s that I must be hung over in the event of a pretty [Sun]day?

Or does the day just seem pretty in contrast to my mental (read: want to hibernate in a dark cave with my blankey- the non-plastic, non-grown-up, warm, soft and cuddly one.) state?

Either way. This law must be banned. (BANNED!!)

I called my friend. Nothing. I checked all my cards and cancelled them. I freaked out when I heard the balance on my AmEx card. What? Almost $300 I’m only a week into my billing period! Oh. Yeah. All me. (Damn.)

My friends ended up finding my lost goods. (Actually, I’m still missing my Cherry Chapstick but I’m a survivor. I will prevail. AmEx to the rescue!)

Lessons of a Shit-Faced Saturday night:

- Eat before drinking.

- 3 AMF’s is too much for me no matter how much I’ve eaten. Don’t do it.

- Mission: Get Wasted is equivalent to Mission: Fail (oh the irony…). Don’t do it.

- Bitchy friends leads to 3 AMF’s and a Kamikazi which leads to Bad News Bears. Don’t do it.

*I use this term loosely. To my dismay AmEx is not accepted everywhere. Which is a damn shame cuz the card is just so pretty and I get reward points and who doesn't love rewards? (And if you don't love rewards than you are clearly an Alien and I have 29,384,382,028+++ questions for you.)

Maintaining Sanity at the Workplace.

I got "randomly picked" to do receptionist duties at the end of the day today. I suddenly feel inadequate for the job. I do not wear red lipstick. My credit cards are not maxed out. Maybe I can make up for that by chewing gum loudly, twirling my hair and gossiping on the phone. (And it took me 3 tries to spell "maxed", oddly, there is no "k" or "c". I think I'm getting the [stereotypical] receptionist bug) And I'd have to make up the gossip since I'm listening to:

Biggie, Biggie can't you see sometimes your words just Hypnotize me....

What? I saw the movie last week. I can't help it. (BTW: Good movie.)

Movies inspire me. Kill Bill - Samurai Warrior. Marley & Me - I want a dog. Notorious - a Rapper. Gran Torino - for a week I aspired to be an old, grumpy, racist and super tough white guy. Madagascar....well, you get it. I digress.

So....Biggie is hypnotizing me, not the office gossip. (A girls gotta protect her sanity.) (Thank you iPhone and all your fantasmal apps) Well, not so much gossip as the idiotic/ridiculous conversations that happen. (Although, they are pretty amusing at times, I typically drown them out with music.)

Like any office we have some characters up in here.

Like the 24 year old who acts like he's 9 and goes around the office telling us about his DRAMATIC girlfriend seeking advice (that he never follows). The hyper (donut & cookie loving) Philipino man (I only say that cuz he has an accent) everyweek it seems he has a new thing (photography, a car, computer, biking....).

The dude obsessed with WhereWolves. No joke. Obsessed. 14 years (and counting) of dressing up as a wherewolve and haunting at Knott's Scary Farm, he uses ALL of his vacation time for this particular event. (To work for min. wage, no less.) He legally made his middle name Wolf. His Cubie-wherewolves everywhere. RingTone-Howling. Wherewolf T-shirt EVERYday (even if it's under a button up shirt). Obsessed.

Characters.

You can imagine the off the wall conversations that take place here at the workplace. But no juice. (You can only listen to biking stories and girlfriend drama for so long. That's bicycle BTW.)No interoffice romances, behind the scenes sexscapades or anything of that nature going on. No bickering/catfights like I hear about going on in other offices. This ain't no hen house. (Thank Gawd!) Just bullshit. Idiots here. Ridiculousness there. Drink, sleep, repeat.

Hi my name is S. and I'm addicted to GoldFish. But who isn't?

I love goldfish.

(*crunch-crunch*)

(And cheez-its.)

(*crunch*)

(And anything else crunchy and cheesey.)

(*crunch-crunch-crunch*)

I'm addicted. Once a box is opened and one tiny little cheesey fish touches my tongue I'M HOOKED. (*crunch-crunch*)My mind is then drowned in thoughts of crunchy, cheesey delisciousness. (*crunch-crunch-crunch*)I cannot be stopped. (*crunch.*)I'm unstoppable. (*crunch-crunch*)I'm like Hungry, Hungry Hippo. (*crunch-crunch-crunch-crunch*)Only I'm not hungry (*crunch*)nor am I a hippo (*crunch*), I'm just addicted to the fish. (*crunch-crunch*) Crunching & chomping away on the deliteful little orange fishies like a fiend. (*crunch-crunch-crunch*)

They're really should be a patch or something. (*crunch-crunch*)

Unemployment: Do It Right!

As far as I know, we are in a recession and gads of people are losing their jobs. In fact, I know quite a few people who have already lost their job and from what I hear there are more to come. (Make me proud, Obama, turn it around. My 401k is supposed to grow. GROW-as in get Bigger!)

So, riddle me this Batman.

Why is there so much traffic?

(Like how that has to do with Obama and 401k? Me too.)

Going to work: Traffic.

Lunchtime: Traffic.

After work: Traffic.

Traffic. Traffic. Traffic.

Where are these people going? (Hint: Not to work.) Why are they driving on the freeway at the same time as me? They have no right! They are rightless!

Me. Employed. I have the right to drive during peak hours. (The Right!)

(Except on Mondays.)

Stores don’t even open until 9, so where are you going, anyway? In fact, you probably shouldn’t be shopping either. Unemployment only pays a maximum of 90 bucks a day (in California). Just go to Costco and stock up on Top Ramen (and booze). Stop making me all road ragey, you traffic inducers, you!

Get off the freeway! Get on the internet. Start submitting your resume on Monster or CareerBuilder so you can complain with me. Be on my team!

(Or send me funny e-mails, clearly you junk e-mailers are the laid off ones; as Forwards filling up my inbox to the point of annoyment has become a thing of the past.)

(Funny is key. I don't want to pray or cry at work, I do enough of that due to the fact that I'm here at work-nothing more, nothing less. Work is over-rated. But then there are paychecks and it all comes full circle. Point: Gimme a laugh. A good Hardey Har-Har.)

Whatever you do, don't get on the freeway.

Driving wastes gas.

Gas cost money.

Money grows on trees.

No wait, that's not right.

(I did have a dream though. I was a farmer. It was nice.)

So Money...oh, forget it.

If you are not employed, there is absolutely no reason (What. So. Ev-ar!) for you to be on the freeway. Your days should be like this: from 7am to 8am you should be sleeping. From 12pm to 1pm you should be in your PJ's watching daytime TV. By 5pm you should be drunk because this is how you cope with not having a job and daytime TV sucks. Shower. Sleep. Repeat.

(Drinking helps to cope with working too.) (Go figure.)

(Hey, I don't make the rules; I just--oh. I DO make the rules...but I can. I have a blog.)

Back to daydreaming...

\end rant.

2009 Trends stay the same...

A week and a half off work and now I'm back! No wait- who put that exclamation point there? Really, it's a sad face and a cry out for some drink! (Spike my Starbucks with Baileys please. Thanks.) (They really should sell shots of Baileys though, right!) Today is actually day 2 at work. I was here yesterday but I wasn't here yesterday, y'knowat am sayin'?

I was hoping (kinda-resolutions…) that I would come back to the office and a mountain of sweets to climb would await me upon my return to the IceCubey to help me cope. Sure enough it was Everest but with twice the cold and minus the sweet mountains. So I guess it is more Antarctica than Everest.

Clearly, the cold has affected my ability to think properly. But I can type with gloves like a Champ! Oh yeah and my floor heater died. I [repress bad memories and] forgot all about work [as soon as I walked out the door] (coulda been the copious amounts of wine too-either way.) and my dire need to buy a new floor heater.

IceCubey – 2, S. – -5 and [frozen] solid.

I'm considering changing the name of this blog to "The Little Eskimo" (nickname at home) or "Hell Froze Over, I'm in It" or "Typing With Gloves" or "Brrrrrrr!" or "Warm and Fuzzy Don't Live Here" or "FrostBitten and Bitching" or "Fighting the Frost. & Losing." or "Fu-fu-fu freezing" or "The Cold is My Kryptonite" or something….but maybe (please, Please, Pleeeeeeze!!!) things will change in the summertime? (I'm wishin. And hopin'. And prayin'.)

I did get my Christmas wish though! We've had the heater since Christmas Eve (at home)! Yay! AND I got a new blanket. So (at 74) I'm no longer wearing a beanie and gloves but I AM still wearing 2 pairs of pants plus knee high socks and a pullover a longsleeve shirt to bed. I'm pretty sure I'm cold blooded.

My New Years was awesome though. Hit up a couple of parties. Our designate [*cough* *cough* drunk] driver got lost. Maybe she was feeling lady luck on her side because we was headed toward the casino. Between us and the casino-(dark) desert; and after the casino-(dark) desert. (She caught on and found her way- no casino. More wine money for us!)

But then there was the spilling,

(I need to invest in a sippy cup.)

I did not fall.

I did not puke.

I spilled.

I even spilled (red wine) on my friends shirt. He now has a red nipple on his blue shirt. He wasn't drunk enough to go with my foresight that it would be the new trend of 2009. Nor was he for my idea to spill red wine

all over to make the rest of the shirt the same.

His loss. You just wait. It's gonna be a trend. I'm convinced. (I convinced myself.)

Beds Got a Hold On Me Now

MISSION: Sleep In My Own Bed, last night seemed an Impossible feat last night and now it is 6 in the morning and time to get up for work and I able to sleep now. Probably until a good and healthy 10 o'clock. ('good and healthy' only because I would be getting more than 4 hours sleep)

I don't wanna go to work. (wah!)

The snooze at this point is even scary, I'm pretty sure if I close my eyes again I will sleep through EVERYTHING, a marching band can march their marchety marching asses through my room and I would sleep like a baby, all snug as a bug in a rug.

*le sigh*

Okay, 'nuff o the stalling. Paychecks.

There is money that needs to be made and bills to be paid.

S.

Sent from my [naked] iPhone

Couch Potato-ing the Day Away

I'm a lazy ass in a food coma on day # ...uuh  ...since the day after Christmas. (The Count can kiss it)

My goal of exercising on said food comatic days has been a big fat: FAIL. (pun intended. I'm clever.) I keep hoping that the thoughts will start counting (It's the thought that counts! anybody?) but, evidently (exhibit A being my ass) and much to my dismay food comas cannot be out thunk. Le sigh.

That's the goal for today: exercise. (Wish me luck. I need a double.)

Not to say that I've done nothing since Christmas. (wait-does drinking count?) Okay, I've done nothing.

Today, I did sign up for a Conversational Italian class! (Like how my subjects just flow together so seamlessly? No? I'll work on it.) (Maybe a writing class will make it's way onto the 2010 Resolutions list) I went to Italy last October and I've been dying to go back and, of course, learn the language. Step One: Learn Italian. I start January 23rd. 

Check me out, all getting things done...(baby steps)

Death by Cold.

Who sobs because they're cold?

Answer: Me. This morning.

True Story. My shower this morning could not get hot enough to warm my skin and relieve my aching bones and shivering muscles. Is it possible to get frostbite from the inside out. Bones first, then muscle, the organs and lastly, the skin? I'm pretty sure my bones are frostbitten. Possibly frostgobbled. When the frostgobble started chomping at my lungs all hell broke loose in the form of sobs.

Seriously. Who the eff sobs because they are cold?! (Don't answer this.)

Judging by my dramatic shower scene this morning, the cold is my kryptonite. And we're not talking like below zero, snow weather. No. We are talking 65 degrees Farenheit. That's all it takes. My mom seems to think that this is a comfortable temperature to keep the house at. Wrong. Dead wrong.

I thought she was trying to kill me this morning. In fact, she almost did kill me this morning. I just wonder what would inspire her to want to torture me so badly. I put the dishes away as she asked. We even bonded over a game of Tap, Tap Revenge.

Is she being a sore loser? I Tap, Tap too well and she's after Revenge? Once she asked me what's wrong and I screamed in agony between sobs that, "It's FUCKING COOOLD!!!" she realized her Revenge had risen to an unholy level and turned on the heat. She even warmed up my car for me.

This was very nice of her. She is forgiven. It was just a game. She knows this now. I just wish my body was not still feeling her Tap, Tap Revenge.

What the hell did I do at work that was so awful that here too I'm being tortured with my kryptonite? I don't recall Tap, Tapping the Tap out of them. My floor heater is keeping me alive for now but it is losing the battle. I'm gonna need something stronger and more powerful.

Fire! I need fire!

This may be against some type of building code though. (We couldn't even get a toaster oven in the kitchen. A fire pit? Turning my cubey into an oven? I'm thinking this may not fly.)

Best case scenario: I get workers comp.

I will draw up my will in the event of Worst Case Scenario. (Just in case. They're ruthless.)

Be careful out there all you Tap, Tap Revenge Champs. The non-champs do not take non-champing lightly.

I know Politics.

I was totally gonna kick Obama’s @$$ and be the Prez because I didn’t want the White House to be painted black. (it’s true. I got the Forward.)

Painting the White House black would be a bad idea because then the Post Office would get all confused and the President wouldn't get his magazine subscriptions and then how will they know latest celebrity gossip? Exactly. Bad idea. You can't run the Country if you don't know what crazy antics Britney's up to. Or how much Nichole Richie wieghs. (Seriously, how is Nichole making it in magazines?)

But then I saw that I (as president) would have to dodge flying shoes and after playing Wii Fit Soccer where you have to do headers at the soccer balls (mind out tha gutter pleze. Thanx.) and dodge the Nike cleats and Panda Bear heads (Panda bear heads? Nikes? This may or may not be the objects you are required to dodge but this is exactly how I recall the event. Tequila may or may not have been involved.)

I failed at the headers.

I failed at dodging the shoes and Panda bear heads.

(My hula hooping, on the other hand, was GOLDEN.)

Granted, I was wearing heels, had a beer in my hand and my BAC% was: Tequila.

And as Prez when wouldn't I have a drink in my hand, be wearing heels and on a Pedastal?

The answers is: When I'm Sleeping.

On second thought.

The answer is NEVER.

(I'm the Prez. I do what I want. A portion of US taxes go to my Bar Bill and Shoes.)

But then I was kick @$$ in dodgeball as a youngster (!) but then I didn't wear heels had no relationship with Tequila. I'm thinking I'll just leave the Shoe Dodging to, well, pretty much anybody that is not me. Not me is key.

I’m not taking any chances. Foreign feet might smell real bad. I mean look at these Shoe Throwing Foreigners their hair all skraggaly-like. Hygiene does not appear to be high on their list of priorities. And niether is keeping up with the latest styles of shoes.

Or at least this is the picture I have in my head because I was getting ready for work (read: Basically sleeping and mostly on AutoPilot) and when I looked at the TV all I saw was Bush dodge to the left (or right? I was looking in the mirror-2/3rds asleep. I have no idea which way he dodged.) And I pictured the Shoe Throwers in the form of Osama Bin Laden.

Get me paintbrush, the White House is getting a Make-OVA! Obama, don't be nervous, you'll do great! I'll think about getting you Wii Fit for Christmas to help you practice. (It's the thought that counts right? Right.)

Can I get some Cheese with my Whine?

So, it's raining bedknobs & broomsticks out. (SoCal. Our standards differ.) (Clearly.) This should have been my first clue that today was going to be One Of Those Days. I didn't catch on. I went to work anyway. Big Mistake.

Trader Joe's takes checks. Just in case you didn't know.

I had to ask since I seemed to have left my card case (with all my credit/debit cards) in my jeans from the other night. I realized this when I was looking for my drivers license and Insurance information to trade with the lady that rear-ended me! With all the bedknobs & broomsticks flailing about it's difficult to see how much damage the fender bender really caused, so far I've accounted for one scratch.

A Scratch!

(I'm tearing up over here...)

With nearly half my lunchtime gone and my stomach growling (it's a beast, lemme tell ya!) all I had was my check book (and an extra ID I keep in my car at all times. For rainy days. Like today.)

My love for credit cards was taken to another level today when I realized how convenient they are. Just swipe and sign. (I have stars in my eyes. It's love. I just know it.)

Checkbooks on the other hand...

With checkbooks you have to know things. Unimportant things like the date(!) and what store you are in (brain overload) AND THEN! You have to actually write out the amount you are spending. Twice. TWICE!! It's too much. And I got a paper cut.

Really though. What'd I do?! Is this Karma? I didn't completely cross the line with the guy that's practically married. Flirting is harmless right! And he started it! And, and...uh....alcohol isn't an excuse is it? Damn. I digress.

Lesson Learned: Never. Never. Leave home without a credit card. NEVER!

The universe was looking out though. When I got to work this morning: cookies and chocolatey brownie thingy's found their way to me. (No Way could I have survived lunch had I not been in a sugar coma)

But that's not all...

My mom turned on the HEATER!!! Hallelujah!! I did not need frostbite to top this day off.

OPEN! SESAMEEEEE!!!!

Have you ever tried to open a regular door with your Car's Keyless entry instead of a key?

No?

Heh.Heh. Me neither.

Just checking.

Wait-Is this BAD news? You're sure?

The company is cutting back. In a meeting yesterday we were informed that wages will be cut and yada-yada there will be cutbacks (just short of bringing your own TP to work).

WAIT! Hold the phones! WAGE CUTBACKS?! GTFO. The room is closing in on me.

Lucy! You got som splaining to do!!!

The company will be closing down for the holidays (From noon on Christmas Eve to the 5th of January) we will only be getting paid for the 2 holidays and can use our PTO time if we choose to do so.

Bad news? Sure my paycheck will not see 44 hours of pay. But it's all sunshine, sleeping in and silverlining from my starry eyed perspective. VACATION!!!! Yes. Pleze. Totally worth it.

He continues...workshare program. This is where our work week is cut to 32 hours a week. That's one day off everyweek. 3. DAY. WEEKEND!!! Woot! Woot!! Hello Peepole, this should have been done long ago! Really though. 5 days of work and 2 measley days off. Who's the stupid who came up with that Bad Idea? In yo face sucka! 4 days now. 3 days to play!

But that's not all. On that one day of the week that we are off. We get to collect unemployment. Sure, 8 hours of unemployment is less than 8 hours of work. But TOTALLY worth it! Did I mention that we'll be getting 3 days off a week? Just checking.

So after that terrible news I was smiling and skipping back to my desk from the meeting while the rest of my coworkers carried confused faces. I'm the math genius of the bunch. Clearly.

3 days off 32 and then a little hours of pay > 40 hours of cubey time.

No contest.