The Rant Farm

Things You Learn When You Become a Mom

2009-10-22T17:03:00.001-07:00

-"Dry Clean Only"? More like "Will Never Be Able to Wear Again." Sequester said clothes in inaccessible portion of closet.

-An interesting phenomenon can occur when one is deprived of sleep for more than a few days (and by deprived, I'm talking 2-3 hours of sleep a night): a "waking dream." This largely consists of sitting straight up in bed, looking at your husband and clearly saying something urgent and important while searching the bed. Except maybe to said husband, the something urgent and important comes out as a series of frustrated mumbles, and he asks you to repeat two or three times. And then finally you realize you're not dreaming, and you frantically ask "where's the baby?!" while clutching your chest, only to find when you look down that the baby isn't there, and hubby says baby is sleeping in his room next door. Then hubby sees that you're all sweaty and gets you a glass of water while you sort yourself out. Um, but I'm not speaking from experience or anything.

-In the middle of the night, when you have to get up to feed a newborn, it's possible to grab random things from the refrigerator and try to jam them into the bottle warmer. Hilarity ensues.

-Newborn poop looks exactly like French's mustard. Grey Poupon? More like Yellow Poop On... fill-in-the-blank.

-When you sing your baby songs and they have really touching lyrics, you will cry. Baby will look at you in puzzlement while all you can offer as an explanation is "I love you." :) (No, I did not tear up just writing that. I swear...)

-Mommy can feed, rock, cuddle and kiss Baby until the cows come home, but all it takes is one "hi" and smile from Dad to win him over.

-You can end up with the same picture of the same cute expression day after day, because every day it's still cute!

-When babies start smiling in response to things, it's the best thing ever.

-Why, when babies are tired, don't they just go to sleep? Instead they keep themselves awake and then cry when they're overtired. WTH! Simple solution: When tired, study back of eyelids. ;)

More to come...

A Christmas Miracle! and other stuff

2009-01-05T16:43:00.000-08:00

No, the miracle is not that I'm blogging. Although I admit, it's almost a supernatural phenomenon now. But what can I say...I'm now doing the jobs of four people, sometimes six, at work, so there isn't usually time to blog...or even think about blogging...or think about thinking about blogging...or blog about thinking about blogging...or breath or stay alive...or blog from home, because I'm basically a vegetable by the time I get there and look at the computer like it's the plague.

Anyway, our Christmas miracle! I thought I would blog this since it's a change from all the bad economic news we keep hearing about all the foreclosures. So Ryan and I just got back Saturday night from a week's vacation in Cabo San Lucas and discovered a letter in the mail from our mortgage lender. We got two loans when we bought our place, a big one and a little one. The big loan was only fixed for 3 years and was set to readjust next month. Luckily it was only going up by $400 per month, which we could manage, but still...it's not like anyone's thrilled when their mortgage goes up, right? So anyway, the letter said the lender decided not to readjust the loan after all, and instead they're going to lock it at the current interest rate for the life of the loan. We almost danced a little jig in the kitchen. The whole thing was totally unprompted...we didn't ask for any reconsideration or assistance or anything. The letter just came out of the blue, dated Dec. 23. Like Ryan said, a Christmas miracle. :)

The Cabo trip was a blast. We ate, drank and were merry all over the place, and of course there were plenty of memorable incidents. There were 10 of us...members of my small singing group, Special Blend, along with significant others and friends. Got a hot-stone massage in a nice spa at a neighboring resort. Rode ATVs in the desert and on the beach...it was fun, but my whole body hurt the next day. So the day after that I went back and got another hot-stone massage, this time with Ryan. What a life. :) We went snorkeling and saw lots of fish...Ryan also went sport fishing with three people in our group, and ended up catching a 35-pound dorado (pretty much like a mahi-mahi). His favorite part: when the fisherman beat the fish over the head with a stick. He's such a boy. ;) The hotel cooked up some of the catch and we had a great dinner that night. On New Year's Eve, we stayed in and played Trivial Pursuit while having fresh margaritas and a big spread of munchies from Costco. (Yes, they have Costco down there! And Wal-Mart, Sam's Club and Home Depot. It was surreal.) At midnight we went down to the pool area and watched fireworks on the beach -- which a Mexican dude lit with his cigarette. Classic. Went whale-watching and saw some gigantic sea beasts, along with sea lions and lots of pelicans. Even watched a water taxi rescue a pelican from a fishing line. And of course, I'm glossing over all the tons of great meals and laughs we had. Really fun trip. Here's a video of me, Rob and Paul at around 1 a.m. on New Year's:

I had that friggin' song stuck in my head for three days after that. Now, thanks to this video (and Rob), it will NEVER go away.

So, back to the post-vacation grind. Work is such a buzzkill. It literally took three minutes this morning to undo a week's worth of relaxation. Well, at least we got some time to play!

Um, I will try to blog again sooner.....

Bookworm

2008-06-25T11:23:00.001-07:00

Right now I'm reading "The Case For Faith" by former Chicago Tribune journalist Lee Strobel. He has a series of "The Case For..." books, and this is the second one I'm tackling. I read "The Case For Christ" while on my honeymoon in Bora Bora.

The premise of Strobel's books is that he used to be an atheist...pretty much driven to nonbelief by all the horrible things he documented and witnessed as a legal affairs writer for a major metro newspaper. As a journalist, he decided to use his investigative skills to research and interview leading religious scholars in an effort to discover whether Jesus was really who people believe he was. As a result of what he found, Strobel ended up becoming a believer. And a pastor.

The first book was good and he made some excellent points, but I found it only merely interesting because I already believe. The one I'm reading now, however, gets into such a deeper level of exploration that my mind has been in overdrive.

For example, one of the questions the book poses is "if there really is a God, why do so many bad things happen in the world?" This is something I've mulled before. And the conclusion I independently reached is that we are here for spiritual growth, so even though bad things happen, in the long run there is actually some good that comes of it. If we learn from these bad things, that is really a positive. I have always thought about why crappy things happen to people who don't deserve it. But I realize that it's because those experiences teach us things about ourselves. The book pretty much reaches the same conclusion. God does not intervene in the happenings of the world, because they are intended for us to be able to grow. Some people curse God for the pain they have to experience, for not saving them from hardship. But one has to look at the bigger picture. Pain and hardship are only temporary. What we can endure and learn, and incorporate into ourselves, is forever.

There are actually eight questions ("The Big Eight") in the book that are examined by leading scholars. Each scholar takes on a different question. I realize this kind of topic and book may not be for everyone, but it really makes you think. They are questions that almost everyone has thought of in one way or another, but the answers are not always what immediately comes to mind. I'll add that many skeptics say Strobel's books shouldn't be taken as the authoritative voice on Christianity. I agree. What I think is that the books are a starting point for many different thought processes, and it's up to the reader to do further research if he or she so desires. And I think that's how Strobel intends them, too.

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While we're on the topic of reading, I'm not sure I've come out and said it before, but I confess...I'm a bookworm. Don't worry, it's not contagious. I swear. OK, a little topical ointment and you'll be fine...stop whining! The burning sensation is normal. But anyway, I have ALWAYS been an avid reader. And I'm a forgiving reader, too, because I won't usually abandon a book partway through unless I'm realllllly hating it. I will give every book a fair chance and read it to the end. Sometimes I regret that ("Catcher in the Rye," any Steinbeck novel...), but generally I don't. However, I've been realizing lately that I read a lot of "junk food" books. I love Patricia Cornwell, I love some science fiction, and I admit I devoured all the Harry Potters. That's not to say all that stuff is bad...it's just kind of Cheetos for the brain.

So, I made a resolution to read more literature and classics. I went on Amazon yesterday and trolled for some new fare. However, I had some restrictions: no Aldous Huxley ("Brave New World" really turned me off in college), no Steinbeck (classic, I know, but I find it too dry), no authors I read in high school, no books for which I've already seen the movie, I've read plenty of Shakespeare so I don't need more at the moment (even though I really love Bill's work), no Dostoyevsky (at least not right now...seems too heavy), and I did lots of epic lore and poetry in college so nothing that falls in that category. Oh, and no Vonnegut, because I recently watched "Slaughterhouse Five," and Ryan and I were really scratching our heads by the end. I was almost irritated that I had lost two hours of my life to that cinematic randomness.

What I ended up ordering: Tolstoy's "War and Peace" (I would like to be able to say I've read it, plus I want to see what all the hoopla is about), Orwell's "1984" (there are supposedly many parallels between it and the show "Lost," which I love, so it sounds worth checking out), Hemingway's "The Old Man and the Sea" (technically I've already read Hemingway, but this one sounds good), and Hammett's "The Maltese Falcon" (I've heard a lot about it).

Eventually I may add something by Thoreau...I've been wanting to read something of his too.

There are many authors I've already read who I love: Cather, Plath, Fitzgerald, Capote, Maugham, Harper Lee...most of those were as a result of school or movies, but the writing is worth it. Time to beef up my list!

Oh, and on a somewhat related note, David Sedaris has a new book out...whee! Can't wait for it to drop in paperback.

Soiled

2008-06-05T17:09:00.000-07:00

I have hit rock bottom. Something happened yesterday and I am horrified. Almost speechless (but again, as I already said in another blog, one can't SAY you're speechless...it just doesn't work). My soul literally feels soiled to the point of annoyed revulsion. I'm spiraling out of control! I feel lost! Helpless!

I heard a song on the radio. Oh God. Oh God. I can't say it. I heard a John Mayer song. Oh please. Don't make me say it. Why! WHY! I heard a John Mayer song on the radio and...no! I can't do it! I CAN'T! I heard...a John Mayer song...on the radio...and I...ARRRRRRR!...I liked it! NOOOOO! It hurts! WHY! HELP MEEEEE!!!! And it's not even a clever song...he just says the same thing over and over again, something about "say what you need to say." HOW! How is it I like this song?! How do you solve a problem like Maria? Why must I be a teenager in love? Insert random lyrical question here!

The world no longer makes sense. John Mayer. Who am I??

Another Winner of a Letter

2008-05-27T12:28:00.000-07:00

Here's a letter I was faxed today (what you see here is exactly the way it was written/sent):

NO WAY CALIFORNIA SUPREME COURT DECISION LEGALIZING SAME SEX MARRIAGE MAKE AMERICA BEAUTIFUL &STRONGEST NATION IN WORLD
>CALIFORNIA/AMERICA IS STILL ON GODS CREATED EARTH/WORLD NOT ON THE MARS/HELL
>AMERICA SAY WE TRUST IN GOD BUT CALIFORNIA SUREMCOURT JUDGES&BELIVERS OF SAME SEX PEOPLE TRUST IN GOD MEANS TRUST IN GREAT ONE DEVIL.
NOT IN GREAT ONE DEVINE POWER WHO PROVIDE EVERYTHINGS.
>I THOGHT CA SUPREME COURT JUDGES HAVE COLLEGE DEGREE, WHAT KIND COLLEGE DEGREE IS THIS? WHERE NO MORAL, CULTURES, NO FAMILY VALUES UNDERSTAND?
>DUE TO THIS KIND OF JUDGEMENTS &ABUSE OF FREEDOM IN THE WORLD AMERICA NOT GET RESPECTED &APPRICITED. LIKE IN IRAQ AMERICA SPENT BILLIONS OF U.S.$ TO PROTECT &SAVE IRAQIES PEOPLE &SAFETY, PEACE IN MIDDLE EAST/SAUDI ARABIA &ALSO FOR U.S &WORLD"S HUMAN SAFETY.OTHERWISE WORLD CAN SALUTE U.S.A. GIVE NOBLE PEACE PRIZE TO OVER PRSIDENT BUSH &AMERICAN STRONGE BRAVE TROOPS TO FOR THEIR SACRIFICED. I JUST PRAY GOD BLESSED AMERICA.

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I have talked to this guy before and told him I can't spend the time figuring out what the heck he's trying to say. He got mad because I wouldn't write letters for him, and because I told him to get someone to proofread them or help him write them in proper English before he sends 'em to the paper. And frankly, does he have room to talk about judges' college degrees??

I would like a "Noble" Peace Prize, please.

La La La...

2008-05-21T10:54:00.000-07:00

My new work computer program crashed about 20 minutes ago and no one on the Help Desk seems to know what to do to restore it. So I'm just sittin' here, twiddling my thumbs and unable to keep budgeting the paper...guess I won't be pitching much of anything in the morning conference call!

Oh yeah, Aida started calling again. She hasn't called in like two years, but suddenly I got two VMs from her yesterday. Here's how they went:

(VM 1)
Ms. Santos? Congratulations, you are finally on tip top, with journilades de veritas, uh, college paper and UST, the (unintelligible) paper, that's the paper. Ms. Santos, this is Aida, daily extra extra and review. Today's paper was safely delivered and anchored, all in unison with HD. And so congratulations again, and uh, as far as the ballroom goes, uh, here in Castro Valley, well, what can you say, I am there with a day spa -- anytime you are ready, I am ready. And, uh, as they say, they had a performance last weekend, well, what can you say. Here in my paradise...Eden Valley paradise garden...PARADISE...my garden is regained. Remember that's way back in 1946, OK? The forum, OK? This is, again, you're up to date, you're on tip top...I'm happy for you. As far as Newsom in San Francisco, well the better of the sex are we, aren't we? Unisex? So, Ms. Santos, or should I say Kim? Congratulations again, you made it up there. Veritas! Ponce de Manila, OK? Bye.

(VM 2)
Holy holy holy God, Heaven and Earth are filled with your glory, Hosanna in the highest. Santos santos santos, holy holy holy. This is Aida, daily extra extra and review. And, uh, as far as Dennis, well I guess what can you say? Uh, he's not alone in signing off, there was a man on board, he was a co-anchor, maybe that was before you were born. Huh? This is the truth. Signing off now, and uh, again, rugel rugel, as they say, in the forum it was noted that they will be presenting last weekend, well again, that was before you were born, 1946, again I repeat. Paradise, here in Eden Valley, paradise lost, paradise regained. I have a weekend to gain (laughs) ... much to gain because I have a weekend for six days, six unisex...unisex...way before you were born. More power to it, more power to it, huh? Flora Santos. Ms. Santos. (laughs) Um, veritas, again, I repeat...it's really, the whole delivery was really good, OK? We are subscribers for three or four newspapers and that's enough for us all around. Plus we have all the facilities here (unintelligible), well, what can you say? Should all acquaintance (lapses into Spanish for a few sentences), well what can you say? Governor Arnold has found different resources to support his economical thing, you got to... (message cuts off)

Where have I been?

2008-04-30T22:31:00.000-07:00

Yeah, yeah, I know...I haven't written in a looooooong time. But there's a good reason for that! Basically, work is kicking my ass.

No, seriously, it's almost like National Lampoon's Newsroom right now. I lost a photographer, a reporter and my assistant editor to buyouts. The photo department took care of the photographer position pretty easily -- transferred one from another office. But then a family emergency came up and she's been on leave for 3 weeks and will be out until the beginning of June. Meanwhile, the other remaining photographer went on vacation, and then also had a family emergency pop up, so for the past few weeks we've been photographer-less. Finally, we have one back this week.

Now, for the reporter position. I will make a loooooong story short, since I also don't want to divulge any details that should probably stay between me and the company, but the hiring process for that position got so convoluted, I didn't get a freelancer on board until last week. Finally, I have Saturdays covered. He's a whiz kid, so I feel good about that choice.

Part of the reason I've been so swamped is because I no longer had an assistant editor. Finally, this week -- almost two months since the buyouts -- I have a city editor. But he's split between me and another paper, so this week he's at the other paper. Basically, every other week I'm on my own. At least he can cover nights for me at the other office.

While all this has been going on, the company also decided to create a new beat and hired one of my reporters for it. He's my ace reporter, so I'm sad to lose him. After a long search (well, what I assume was one...it took long enough), the company delivered me a replacement, who is shadowing my out-going reporter this week. And today, she (the replacement) told me she accepted another job. So yeah, I'm out a reporter again in a couple weeks. On the biggest beat in the newsroom. Sigh.

Now hang on, it doesn't stop there! This week we rolled out our new computer system, and it's been a complete fustercluck (which, coincidentally, is also the name of the chicken restaurant I want to open -- Fustercluck's). I'm what they call a "Power User," which is basically a fancy term for "tech bitch." I spend all day running around the newsroom trying to figure out why someone's login doesn't work, why someone can't find something, etc. In between answering my phone and also trying to figure out my own computer's quirks. Today I even spent 20 minutes fiddling with a reporter's keyboard because he couldn't type any capital letters...only to find out that because his desk was such a mess, a folder had been resting on the Scroll Lock key for several hours. The file was removed, and tada, the Shift key was functional once again. Seriously, this is what I get paid for. Did I mention that I also get to assign and edit stories??

Today my whole system locked up on me and then wouldn't accept any of my logins. Yesterday I mysteriously lost the ability to unlock files, despite the fact that my account has authorization. The photographer who just returned apparently hadn't been apprised of the new way to file photos and did it the old way yesterday, which created such havoc on so many levels that I'm still speechless as to the hoops I had to jump through just to get those photos to the designers by deadline. No one who is supposed to know anything actually knows it when I ask a question, which has been so very helpful. Oh, and don't even get me started on the editor at my sister paper, who is in the middle of a meltdown every time he calls me. Yesterday he didn't know how to toggle between windows. Today he claimed his e-mail didn't work. Seriously, my neck is so tense right now I can barely turn my head!

So, that's why I haven't written in a while. I literally have almost zero time at work now, which is the reason for this late posting -- I'm writing this on the couch! In my PJs. Which I wish I could wear forever.

We're going camping this weekend, so hopefully some time outdoors will help slough off some of the office-inflicted gloom!

A Day in the Life

2008-03-20T10:50:00.000-07:00

If you've ever wondered what an editor does all day, this is for you.

MARCH 19, 2008

9-10 a.m. Arrive to 13 voicemails from readers irate about Coffee Break page. Tuesday's puzzles reprinted in Wednesday's paper. Wait, sorry, 12 messages about Coffee Break, 1 message about whether I will come speak at Leadership Hayward again this year. E-mail Living editor about Coffee Break. Hear back that it was a press operator error (someone grabbed the wrong plate and put it on the press) and only happened in my paper. What luck!

10-11 a.m. Change outgoing voicemail message to say that I am aware of Coffee Break error and working on getting answers to Tuesday puzzles printed in Thursday's paper. People seem to ignore (?) recording and continue leaving messages about error, as in "did you notice that today's Coffee Break page is wrong?" Bang head against desk. Curse life. Delete messages. Work on budgeting Thursday's paper. Call editor at closest sister paper about coordinating our front pages (new system...yuck).

11 a.m. Sit in conference room with coffee and wait 15 minutes for daily conference call. It never comes; I return to my desk. No notice about meeting's lateness. Conference call finally comes through. Participate tacitly.

11:30 a.m. Sister-paper editor calls to whine about something. I half listen while working on budget.

11:45 a.m. Phone continues to ring off hook. I don't answer. Voicemail recording should take care of majority of today's calls. If I answer, I will have an aneurysm speaking to someone. Receive snail mail from reader (for second day in a row) pointing out incorrect use of "whomever" in a story. E-mail copy desk about not gratuitously changing "whoever" to "whomever" in stories and to review their grammar.

11:50 a.m. Contemplate career choice and wonder why we only get so many calls when puzzles are incorrect. It appears people subscribe just for puzzles. Hm. Also, never get any calls about anything good. Apparently, my official job title is Complaint Department Operator. Leave to go meet window guy at home so he can measure windows for replacement.

12-1:15 p.m. Window guy tracks mud all over my clean floor, but quickly measures windows and leave. Indulge in Taco Bell and bring it home to enjoy while watching recorded episode of Dateline. Take slightly longer lunch break because I feel the cosmos owes it to me today.

1:20-2:45 p.m. Arrive to more messages on voicemail about Coffee Break. Don’t people listen?! Here is exact outgoing message (after usual greeting): "If you are calling about today's Coffee Break page, I am aware of the error and working with our Living department to see if we can run the answers to Tuesday's puzzles in Thursday's paper. If you are calling about anything else, please leave a message and I will return it at my earliest convenience. Thank you." WTF? Also, clerk tells me someone called during my break and demanded we issue him a 50-cent check for the error. When the clerk refused, the man demanded to come down and get it from our petty cash (which, coincidentally, we don't have). Utter a few profanities. Continue to fiddle with budget, spend half an hour putting together letters to the editor only to find out new designer isn't up to handling letters yet and they won't run tomorrow, confab with sister-paper editor about possible A1 choices, comb through garbled state-wire pitches.

2:45 p.m. Afternoon conference call. One of the editors sounds like he is raping the speaker until I ask if he can please do whatever he's doing right ON TOP of the speaker, and he realizes it isn't on mute. Otherwise normal meeting.

3-3:30 p.m. Coordinate with sister-paper editor on final A1 choices, finish budget, send to designers. Calls STILL coming in about Coffee Break. Don't know why people would think that at 3:30 p.m. I'm still not aware of a complete reprint of a page. Curse life again. Curse people in general for their snide tone of voice when leaving messages: "Yeah, hello, what the hell are you people doing down there? The Coffee Break is the same as Tuesday. You all need to get your acts together. I don’t know what you think you're doing, but you need to fix it. Call me at blah blah blah..." Yes, right away, my liege. Oh, and just so you know, it takes a whole DAY for a correction to show up, so your impatience in seeing it fixed is ridiculously unnecessary. I can't pull a mimeograph out of my pocket and run off an instant correction for you. Peabrain.

3:30-4:25 p.m. Edit stories, field e-mails about tonight's coverage of Iraq War anniversary protests. As of this writing, voicemail light is on again. OK, just checked it, one voicemail from someone who didn't say why he was calling but wanted me to call him back (no, sorry, you have to tell me why you want me to call you if I'm going to take time out to do it) and one VM from our photographer, who was heading to a last-minute assignment. Speak to whiny dad who is upset that sister paper didn't run anything about his Boy Scout son growing his hair out and donating it to Locks of Love. Answer: They run stuff like that all the time. He says girlfriend spoke to the editor, who was "uncooperative" and then proceeded to run "a bunch of news about Arabs" instead, which was "very un-American." Man wanted to bypass sister paper and make ME run something. I say no, he is in sister paper's coverage area and I don't snipe their coverage. Furthermore, I say I'm not sure what he expects my response to be to claims of un-American-ism –- to be fair, sister paper's coverage area has a heavy concentration of different ethnicities, many of them Arab. He asks if he can bypass me and talk to my boss. I say no, he should try talking to sister editor first. He says no, he already tried that. I say NO you didn’t, your girlfriend did...so why don't you try talking to him yourself? He says yes, I'm right, he should do that. End of call.

4:25-5:15 p.m. Lull in workload. No copy coming in yet. Phone still ringing. Check e-mails, surf Web for a bit, reply to personal e-mails, update budget with new developments, keep staring at sheet music on desk that needs to be learned by tonight. When?! Peruse job listings...nothing good. Take cell call from my sister.

5:15-6:10 p.m. Edit some captions and a story, field questions from copy editors, delegate photo assignments to reporters. Actually find time to quickly review sheet music for tonight. Know songs about 80 percent. Bathroom break. Wait for two lagging reporters to finish and file their stories. Need to be in Alamo by 7. Reporters say "5 more minutes." Which almost always means 20 more minutes. 6:15 –- ah, one is in! OK, edited. Now 6:25. Still waiting for other story. Reporter says "yeah, yeah, I'm done." Don't see it yet... Aha! There it is. Edited. Realized that another sister paper's story about the nurse strike is too focused on their area for us to run as is. Pull in copy of story and tweak it to be more relevant to our area. Send to copy editors.

6:40 p.m. Leave office and dash to rehearsal! Make it there only 10 minutes late.

7:45 p.m. Work calls. Can't find new nurse story I did. I know I sent it, so problem must be with computer program again. (Had same problem earlier in the day.) Advise designer to call night editor at yet another sister paper to see if she can resend for him.

Rest of night is normal.

Even more random bits

2008-03-06T16:27:00.000-08:00

OK, first I would like to announce my selection for American Idol:

This kid is only 16! He is amazing. He did a really nice rendition of "Think Twice" last week, but I thought his "Imagine" performance was better.

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Staying on the Idol theme, it occurred to me while watching this week that Danny Noriega has Victor/Victoria syndrome. Namely, he strikes me as a girl impersonating a boy impersonating a girl. Check it out for yourself!

His voice is usually not bad, but this wasn't his week. Also, I HATE that song!

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I realized the other day that I have a habit of putting the toilet lid down before I leave the bathroom. I think this goes back to when I had my cat Mr. Moo...I caught him drinking out of the toilet a couple times, so I started putting the lid down. Now, four years later, I still do it!

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Update on work sitch: They announced today that there were enough buyouts to avoid involuntary layoffs. But that still means I'm losing three employees. Indeed, this will be interesting as we move forward and I try to figure out how to cover the duties of these three positions. For some baffling reason, I feel a complete lack of enthusiasm. Hm. Curious.

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My new theory as to what LOST is all about now relates back to the graphic novel "The Watchmen." However, it's all swimming in my head and I need to sort it out and lay down what I think is going on. But basically, what I believe we're dealing with here is "saving the world," and yes, I think everyone was intentionally brought to the island. I have to admit that the LOST creators are quite genius. And I should thank them for the endless days I've spent chatting about LOST online with Lil D. It is the ultimate time suck. LOST is the new black!

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Speaking of things being the new black, I tried to find the Tina Fey Weekend Update bit about Hillary Clinton and how "bitch is the new black," but it's almost overwhelming to sort through all the returns on a Hillary search on YouTube. But I found the other one I was looking for, which I thought was pretty funny:

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Lastly, I finally finished reading the Judy Garland biography...which proved to be sad right up to the end. To think of all that talent ending in a locked bathroom, slumped over the toilet. But she herself said she would have done her life all over again with all the same mistakes. I don't think she hated living...there were just too many factors that made it hard for her to keep control her life. Namely:

-An overbearing stage mom who made it clear through her actions that her daughter was nothing but a meal ticket, a way of vicariously living out her showbiz dreams...including drugging her so she could always "keep her going." Unfortunately, that kicked off a lifelong addiction, and a precedent that any time she felt out of control, she need only pop a pill to fix it. Her mom was never seen to hug her or tell her she loved her...basically, mom was just a "manager."

-A string of men who took advantage of her. Egad, the woman did not have good taste in men. Almost all of them either turned out to be secretly gay/bisexual or gigantic embezzlers. My gosh, one of her husbands even slept with Liza's husband! In my opinion, Joe Mankiewicz could've been the one good guy for her...but his wife wouldn't let him go. Anyway, she almost never saw one physical penny of the millions she earned. She died broke, thanks to really bad mismanagement and the inability of one single person to do right by her and just be honest. I don't get that...I know it's tempting to take something for yourself, but that is just really not right to steal from someone who literally had to sing for her supper. How hard is it to just be honest?? Embezzlers are some of the most disgusting human beings, if you ask me.

-Bad home-life examples. Her dad was secretly in love with teenage boys, her mom cheated with her best friend's husband...Judy became quite the cheater herself as she grew up. There wasn't really any good foundation for her to go on. History repeats itself. I think being with lots of different men made her feel like she was in control, because she could always move on and just pick a new guy...but really, what she needed was positive attention, and she almost never truly got it from many of the men.

So, it's clear that she just never really felt like she was in control of anything. She felt like MGM owned her and told her who she could and couldn't be, and because of her home life, she always retaliated by going off the deep end. Her dad died when she was pretty young, so she mostly grew up with her mom who didn't act like she loved her...so Judy was always looking for love and attention wherever she could get it. And a lot of guys took advantage of that. It's sad, really, because if everyone had just treated her like a human being, instead of like property/income/status, we might have seen a very different ending to her life. I feel bad for her kids, who had to witness a lot of really un-kid-friendly things. Liza even had to carry around a stomach pump and save her mom's life a few times.

I'd like to read a Liza biography soon, to see what her perspective was like. I'd also like to know what has become of her son Joey Luft, who you almost never hear about.

Random bits

2008-02-26T17:11:00.000-08:00

Sorry I haven't blogged in a while...lots has been going on to preoccupy me. Mostly work-related...the company announced last week that major cost reductions need to be made, including downsizing the workforce, so every employee has been offered a voluntary buyout. The announcement of how many buyouts will be given and to whom will be disclosed next week, and then involuntary layoffs are expected very soon after that. I'm not worried about my own job, but there is a gloomy and somewhat fearful mood among employees at all our papers, and it makes getting things done a little more difficult. As a manager, I can see how and why the company needs to do this...even though we are a newspaper and dedicated to serving and informing the public, the fact of the matter is we are still a business, and we have to operate the way other businesses operate. When revenue stops flowing, steps need to be taken. As a person, I don't like that it involves laying off employees, but at this point, I'm not sure much of anything else can be done to make enough of an impact on our monetary losses. So, anyway, that's what's been going on. Within about two weeks, the workplace could be very different from what I/we know now.

I was also gone for a few days...Ryan and I left Thursday night to visit his parents in Arizona, and got back last night. It's a verrrrry long drive, but we still had a good time. On the way down we stopped in a little ghost town called Calico. It was restored by Knott's Berry Farm in the '60s, I believe. It's a cute little place and we had fun exploring it. Ryan had been there as a little kid and wanted to go back...I'm surprised he still remembered how to get there!

I've also been boning up on all the music I have to learn for a spate of upcoming performances with both Special Blend and The Blackhawk Chorus. The Blenders have quite a few gigs scheduled (woo!), and the repertoire for each one is slightly different. There are some songs I need to learn that they already know from before I was in the group, so I have to get on that quickly to catch up, and in the meantime we've been sight-reading new stuff just for fun. We are learning a super-hard version of "That Old Black Magic" for our appearance with BHC. I like it...it's grown on me...but the piece is set to an almost hilariously fast Latin beat. That song fits into the BHC's spring theme of A Tribute to Judy Garland, which leads me to my next random bit...

I've been reading a very well-written biography of Judy Garland's life, "Get Happy" by Gerald Clarke. I've actually been depressed since I've been reading the book, because I can't get over how heartbreaking Judy Garland's life was, and how miserable she must have been even though she oozed natural talent! So many things fed into major self-doubt...she never believed she was really that talented or pretty...and that, coupled with the fact that her mother and MGM started and basically encouraged her drug addiction, are the major issues that underscored a life that was valued by many adoring fans, but not by the person who was living it. Seriously, you just have to read the book. I found a used copy on Amazon for $6. I feel emotionally drained just thinking about how awesome this person was, but almost everyone in her life basically took a crap on her and didn't stick around to help clean it up.

Check out this video from "Meet Me in Saint Louis," which I believe was filmed/released in 1945 and was said to be one of Judy's favorites because she actually liked the way she looked in it (thanks in part to her eventual husband and baby daddy, Vincente Minelli, who was the director).

All this got me to thinking about Britney Spears, and how she must be suffering some of the same problems. Now yes, I know, I have said some unkind words about the Brit. And I don't know that I feel complete sympathy for her yet...but Judy Garland's life does make me ponder Britney's situation, and feel a little bit of remorse. The public eye can be very unkind, and can serve to enhance what damage has already been done. We are all "wounded spirits," in one way or another, but don't always stop to recognize that fact in regards to someone else's situation. I don't know what exactly is going on in the Spears world, but I do know that what is being said or talked about probably isn't helping. I'm not going to cry on the Internet about it like that creepy YouTube dude, but I thought I should call attention to the fact that when you think about it, none of us really has the right to judge...you never know what is really going on in someone's life, nor whether that person even has that much control over it (or that much awareness of reality to begin with, so can they really help it?). Makes ya think. I know celebrities are aware that as public figures, they will become the target of more scrutiny and attention, but sometimes a line has to be drawn as to what gets criticized and what get singled out as needing assistance. I don't think any of us would sit back and watch someone throw themselves off a bridge without trying to do something about it...well, basically that's what we're doing with Britney...and what people did with Judy. In retrospect, it's like, "why didn't anyone do something?!" I know there's a difference between an MGM legend and a modern pop princess, but still...at the core, they are/were both human beings. That has to be worth something. We can't all really be that heartless.

Well, there you go...some wheels turning in my mind as I read my book!

Gotta love calls from readers

2008-02-18T17:26:00.000-08:00

Today I am a "f*cking b*tch who need to get her @ss straight."

Moment of Reflection

2008-01-31T14:23:00.000-08:00

I've been absolutely swamped with stuff lately, but just wanted to jot off a short entry. I was reminded today how sad my job can be...just the general spectrum of people I come into contact with, it makes me realize how chaotic the world is.

I just got done reading two letters to the editor from a diagnosed schizophrenic who is in his 50s. One letter talks about how he is having difficulty receiving credit for a math proof, and he wants everyone to know; the other talks about some kind of signs or fliers that have been torn down in his neighborhood. I don't know why, it made me feel sad. Yesterday I got a call from one of the regulars, who always makes my eyes roll with his tangential conversations and looooong-winded diatribes. But I also acknowledge that he probably doesn't have anything else to do.

People call me up angry all the time. They call and tell me I'm an idiot for one decision or another that I've made (or the company has made) that they don't like...they call me out on news judgment, accuracy, all sorts of stuff...and they don't spare on the names or disparaging remarks. It still irritates me, but I realize that somehow it makes them feel better. I guess it's soothing or therapeutic for them to tell the local newspaper editor she is a piece of crap.

I have come to accept that as part of my job...and as a journalist in general, because it comes with the territory. But instead of making me feel inept, it shows me how sad, ugly and miserable people are out there...and they continue to prove it to themselves every day. That's pretty depressing to think about.

It's just a little sad, sitting here at my desk, thinking about the schizophrenic guy who just wants someone to listen, that there are so many voices in the world that drown each other out. As one of the people it all filters too, it paints a broader picture that lots of people don't see, or take the time to look at: Basically, a good portion of the population is angry all the time. It's too bad people don't calm down more and have fun!

Dammit, Tagged Again!

2008-01-07T15:56:00.000-08:00

Once again I fall victim to the omnipotent blog tag. Here are my seven random things:

1. I hate being cold. HATE. IT. I would almost rather drop an anvil on my foot than be miserable and cold. Oddly enough, my first instinct anytime I'm cold is to want to take a bath or shower. Somehow I did not inherit my mom's serpent-like abilities to withstand low temperatures. She never -- EVER -- turns on the heater in her house. The second I walk in her door, I flip it on. And then Mom and I have a silent battle over the thermostat, which usually entails her turning it down to 55 and me surreptitiously bumping it back up to 68 (any higher than that and she'll notice right away). My sister said she was home alone once and she turned the heater on, and it came on at 55! Yikes. Anyway, I love the snow -- but not for very long -- and I love rainy countries like England and Ireland. But I am just not a cold-weather gal. My hands and feet are always blocks of ice. Ryan makes fun of me. :)

2. Despite the above, I can eat ice cream at any time of day. It can be frickin' Hoth outside (kudos if you got my Star Wars reference), and I'll eat ice cream if it's there. I'm not sure what's so appealing about it. I especially love the gelato. If I go to a gelato bar and stare at all the creamy-looking offerings, I *will* cave and get some. And then, usually, I'm cold afterwards and need to put a jacket on. Funny that.

3. One of the things that freaks me out the most is when I leave work for the day and head out to my car in the parking lot. Now, we don't have a very big parking lot, but I always seem to forget where in the h-e-double chopsticks I parked! Even when I park the car just two or three hours before I get off work, I still wander around looking for it. What freaks me out, I think, is how much I've had my head in work up to that point. I'm usually steeped in to-do lists, editing copy and doing general managerial things, and I'm so....involved. Then I go outside and it's like work is the womb that has just given birth to me. I stand there all wild-eyed and out of sorts. A couple times I've walked right past the car. It's scary how much of my brain power work eats up!

4. Yes, I am addicted to Xbox. I'm 96.8 percent done with Star Wars II (The Original Trilogy) and am still picking away at Guitar Hero II before moving on to GHIII, which Ryan got me for Christmas. I'm about halfway done with the Expert level on GHII, and I have to say that I think Hard was a little bit harder. Hard required all sorts of fast fretwork that makes you feel like you're getting carpal tunnel or want to chop your arms off at the elbows. Expert, at least, mixes chords with fretwork. Don't get me wrong, it's still difficult! But I think passing Hard was more of a chore. Then again, I'm only halfway through Expert. We'll see what happens when I hit Freebird. Oi.

5. I am trying to teach my cats tricks. They got TONS of treats for Christmas, from various sources, so I figured I'd put them to use. I want to teach Toulouse to shake hands and Ever to talk. It's too easy to teach Toulouse to talk...he meows every time I take out a treat anyway. But Ever usually only meows when she wants attention. (Example, every night I come home, I go to the bedroom to change clothes, etc. About 10 minutes will go by and then I'll hear a questioning meow from the living room, which is Ever asking me to come say hi to her.) And I can't teach her to shake hands because she HATES having her feet touched. Anyway, the training is slooow right now. Toulouse doesn't want to sit and lift his paw...he just wants to smell the treat in my hand and then gobble it (and Ever's, too, if he can get it). Ever doesn't want to meow, she wants her treat before Toulouse eats it. So, we'll see how it goes. I know it can be done! A friend's cat gives high fives.

6. I turn 30 soon and surprisingly have little feeling about it either way. I think it will be weird to say I'm 30 when someone asks, but otherwise, it doesn't bother me or anything. Maybe because I'm still getting used to introducing myself with a new name, and going through the name-change process. If I wasn't focused on that, then maybe I'd ruminate on 30 more. (BTW, good news on the name-change front...I went to the SSA the other day and waited about an hour and a half. When I got called, it took about 5 minutes. I can apply for a new driver's license starting Wednesday, and I should get my name-change confirmation from SSA in about a week.)

7. I give Britney Spears two months to live. That's right, you heard it here first! She's on a path to self-destruction. I don't care who goes on the Internet and cries about it on video, it's gonna happen. That poor girl just doesn't seem long for this world. It's gonna be Anna Nicole II. (Sidenote: I just made a $20 bet with a co-worker on this. Britney has until March 8, or I have to pay up!)

So here are the rules: Link to the person who tagged you and post the rules on your blog. Share 7 random and/or weird facts about yourself on your blog, we all want to know them. Tag 7 random people at the end of your post.

Dom
Lacey
Kelley
Julie
Jodie
Beth
Danielle

What?!

2007-12-28T14:41:00.000-08:00

Here's a doozy of a letter that landed on my desk today:

All truly Spiritual Religious individuals recognize our truly Spiritual Common Ground, as one may see our Religious Reality as in the Birth of GOD into our mental knowledge of our now known/recognized GOD!

All truly Spiritual Religions are based upon a Humane Foundation, as in Safety for all Individual Lives, be they Current Lives, as well as Future Lives, as well as for all Humans being humane!

Hayward Militant Police are a City Official, as in Public Assets of, or in a Violent Source upon an Innocent Person, and or a Intimidation Source upon an Innocent Person, as well as a False Accusation Source upon an Innocent Person.

How Lovingly Smart, Humane is such true behavior of the Hayward Militant Police?

Weird Dream

2007-12-26T17:51:00.000-08:00

As you may or may not know, I tend to have vivid, weird dreams. I actually haven't been having very many over the past few months, but last night's was a doozy. I'll try to write what I remember (of course, I woke up at 3 a.m. and repeated the whole thing to myself, but by this morning, some details had faded - and yes, I know, you're supposed to write it down or talk into a tape recorder or something, but it was 3 a.m. and I wasn't about to do either of those things).

The scene is a cemetery next to a school. I am currently a spectator, observing as if I'm watching a movie. It's nighttime, and I am aware that someone I know has been persecuted and killed for being an activist-- no details beyond that. Apparently this person had been on a hunger strike and was starved down to almost nothing, and their body (I think it was a man) had been thrown into the cemetery all shriveled and bloody. I remember thinking to myself that it looked like a deer that had been hit on the road.

I'm crying and realize that Ryan, our friend Julie and another guy are there. I knew who the other guy was at 3 a.m., but now I don't remember. All of a sudden we're all panicked -- we need to get the body out of there right away, it needs to be buried properly. I'm still only able to watch. Ryan and the other guy are on either side of the body and insert a stretcher underneath. Julie is in the middle and they are all trying with all their might to wrench this body from the ground. Nearby, a sort of cave or hole opens up in the hillside and they are able to quickly tip the body up and into the hole. We are all relieved.

Now I walk towards the school. Oddly enough, I run into my journalism teacher from junior college and am happy to see her. She asks what's wrong and offers to let me hide in her classroom. We go in and it's empty, but for some reason I need to put tables in there. Really long, skinny tables that for some reason I call "rally tables." I'm debating with Ryan, Julie and the other guy about whether they need to be wood or plastic...wood or plastic...wood or plastic. I finally yell out plastic! and they start bringing them in in a jumble. The tables are sliding all over the room and we're trying to make sense of them and put them in the right place. It's almost like bumper cars. The whole room is pink and orange.

Then, I wake up.

I have no idea what this means -- or if it's supposed to mean anything -- but it's weird nonetheless! I just remembered that I had another dream the other night involving one of my old employees. Something to do with a fence. It's odd how these people I haven't thought of or talked to in a long time suddenly pop up in my dreams!

Grinchtastic

2007-12-18T16:04:00.000-08:00

This is why I hate holiday shopping at the mall.

First, it takes forever to find parking. I could find a cure for cancer in the time it takes to find a decent spot. I say decent because invariably it has to be raining on the day you go shop. Or at least mildly yucky. And you know that you're not going to want to soak your pant legs carrying an armful of goods to the awaiting chariot.

Finally, you settle for a quasi-OK spot and trudge inside, but not before having to dodge the jerk backing his car out without looking and the lady pushing the quadruple stroller while yakking on her cell phone and balancing a venti Starbucks.

There is now only 40 minutes left of your lunch break, so with determination you head to your desired store. But no! Wait! You must run the gauntlet of kiosks situated oh-so-conveniently in the middle of the mall! The entire LENGTH of the mall. They all beckon with the same annoying line: "Can I ask you a quick question?" No. You can't. If I wanted you to ask me a question, I would just stand motionless in the middle of the mall and allow you buzzards to set upon me at free will. I'm moving here, buddy! With determination! You may not, at any time, ask me a "quick question." In fact, I'm annoyed that you even asked me if you could ask me a question. Now I'm going to ask YOU if I can stick my foot up your bum.

Sidenote: Why does there always have to be that one creepy Eastern European guy who wants to drape some heated beanbag thing on your shoulders or massage lotion into your hands? I find this the ultimate in Comfort Bubble violation. I do not find pleasure in being molested by Count Dracula and his mall minions, especially when I am in a hurry. And I despise them even more because they completely bypass the whole "quick question" ploy! I sentence them to eternal lasagna from Sbarro.

Anyway, you manage to make it to your desired store. And, because the store is busy, you actually get to shop for once without being harassed by salespeople. Score! This is the only positive aspect of holiday shopping at the mall. But it's short-lived satisfaction, because it's time to head to the register. First, the line is never less than five people deep. You are usually the fifth/last person. You have one item. Everyone in front of you has 247.5 items. There are two people working the register. One is usually having some sort of computer problem and is spending every precious second banging on buttons and/or scanning and rescanning an item while shaking her head -- "No, I don't know what's wrong, it's not letting me do it." The other employee is usually having a heated exchange with a customer who speaks minimal English and is angrily trying to understand why she can't use two coupons at the same time. OR, he/she is trying to return something and doesn't have the receipt. The employee becomes exasperated and fetches a manager. The manager has the same EXACT dialogue the employee just had with the customer. Customer huffs and puffs; everyone left in line shakes their heads and rolls their eyes. Your lunch break ended five minutes ago. This is right around the time that employee #2's register also decides to act wonky (immediately after, I forgot to mention, some deal has been struck with angry customer).

Somehow, you finally make it to the front and it takes less than two minutes to purchase your item. WTF? Why is that so hard for everyone else?

Time to head back to the car, but first you have to squeeze past the couple holding hands, walking slooooowwwwly AND blocking the whole mall walkway.

I wonder if the Grinch has high blood pressure.

Bora Bora Photos

2007-11-29T14:04:00.000-08:00

At long last, our vacation photos are ready for your perusal. Follow this link to view them and read Ryan's narration. Enjoy!

www.wilit.com/bora.html

And, in case you want to see some of our other vacations while you're at it: www.wilit.com/vacations.html. (Click on the maps/graphics to see each vacation.)

I've Been Made an Honest Woman

2007-11-16T10:28:00.000-08:00

Meaning yes, I am finally married!

I wrote a long blog yesterday and lost it, so I will attempt to recreate it today. But don't think I'm not pissed about it! It took me like an hour to write that entry. :(

Anyway, we got back on Saturday from our honeymoon in Bora Bora. One of the best trips of my life! Ryan is putting together the photos and a narrative, so I hope to be able to post that soon.

As for the wedding, everything went almost perfectly. There are only two things I would have changed, but I was otherwise extremely happy with how things turned out, especially since I've never planned a wedding before (or even been THAT involved in one) and was basically winging it. It was a very, very happy day, and Ryan and I loved every minute. :0) The two things I would have changed are:

-When I took my mom to the site to scope things out, I told her I didn't want an aisle runner. I thought it would bunch up on the grass and make it difficult to walk. So she suggested getting a short runner and putting it just on the steps to the gazebo. I compromised and said OK. Come wedding day, I walk out and find...a full-length runner. And because of the wind, yep, it bunched up on the grass and made it hard to walk. Not only that, but there were a few large-ish rocks attempting to hold it down, which I nearly tripped over. I was annoyed about the runner, but I know Mom had good intentions. Also, I think someone might have meant to cut the runner but ran out of time, since the roll was still on it. Here's what everything looked like before the ceremony:

-The other thing I would have changed is that I watched some videos someone shot of the ceremony and saw that there was a long waiting period between our parents being seated and the bridal party walking down the aisle. Someone told me they thought this was because they were waiting for the song to end, but I had scheduled the same song for the parental seating and the bridal party because I thought it wouldn't take too long to seat the parents...definitely not a whole song. So, in retrospect, I probably should have assigned someone to stand by the entrance and cue us to walk down the aisle. But, not a huge deal. There also seemed to be a small waiting period before I walked down the aisle, but this was because I chose a specific song and didn't want to have only 30 seconds of it play before it had to be turned off. ;0)

Here are some ceremony shots:

Father Dittler and Ryan waiting at the "altar"

Rob and Katie...our parents were seated and the bridal party walked out to Eva Cassidy's "Fields of Gold"

Brian ("Remy") and Julie...sorry the photos are on the small side, I had to copy them from the photo sites where my friends posted them

Jeff and Jodie

Ryan's best friend and Best Man, Bryan, and my sister and Maid of Honor, Dominique...didn't all of the bridal party look fabulous??

Our adult flower girl, Brooke! She was such a great sport

Everyone waiting for lil ol' me

My brother Henri and I walking down the aisle...my selected song was Edith Piaf's "La Vie En Rose," as a nod to my French background. Before the ceremony, guests received the lyrics printed in French and English.

Listening to Ryan's sister Allison read an excerpt from "O, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss

Ever the nonconformists, the bride dips the groom!

We have been pronounced husband and wife! And yes, I cried during the ceremony, despite my best efforts not to. Here we are recessing to "Linus and Lucy," otherwise known as the Peanuts theme.

After the ceremony, we took a buttload of photos, then arrived and were introduced at the reception to "The Imperial March" from Star Wars. Bryan and my sister gave excellent (and epic, in my sister's case) speeches for their toasts, and then Special Blend and I performed "The Shadow of Your Smile" from the movie "The Sandpiper" as a surprise to Ryan. I have to say, it's really hard singing in front of a room full of people you know! After that we had lunch, or, in my case, half a lunch because the other half would not fit in my dress. Seriously! Ryan and I then tried to make our rounds and talk to each table, but I ended up being whisked away in the middle by my friend/makeup artist to fix a blemish on my face that had scabbed and was falling off (gross, I know, but whaddya do). So, to my chagrin, I was not able to make it to every table before the end of the meal. My dear Lulu, I have apologized profusely, but I just want to publicly say again that I'm sorry we didn't get to talk! But I saw your grinning faces in the front row during the cake cutting. :0)

Here's what the room looked like:

The table-number cards were made using funny vacation photos of Ryan and I

I had scheduled in a song to be played in tribute to Ryan's grandfather, who died last year, and to my dad. One of my dad's oldest friends approached me during lunch and asked if he could say a few impromptu words about my father. I thought it was a great idea, and perfect timing, so I connected him with the DJ. But because I didn't know what he was going to say beforehand, I wasn't prepared, so yes, I ended up crying half my makeup off. But what he said was very nice, and then the DJ played "In My Life" by The Beatles.

Next was the first dance, to "Miracle" by the Foo Fighters. Foo Fighters have special meaning for Ryan and I because we had such a blast at their concerts over the past few years. We have always shared a love for their music, so we thought it fitting to make one of their songs be "our song."

Here's us dancing:

The first dance was followed by the bridal party dance, and the song was Garry Stevens' "Beyond the Sea." That song also had special meaning, because I have performed with Garry with Special Blend and the Contra Costa Jazz Band. Garry is something like 93 years old, and in the '40s he was the No. 4 singer in the country. (No. 1 was Frank Sinatra, so that gives you an idea of his competition!) Garry was the first to record "Beyond the Sea," but it never took off until Bobby Darin recorded the now-famous version. Garry still has a great voice and still performs. In fact, Special Blend will be performing with him and CCJB again this December.

Then the dance floor was opened to everyone and we boogied our heads off until it was time to cut the cake. Which ended up being a semi-annoying experience, because no one could find the photographer for a while. But, eventually she was reined in and we carved up some cake, even though we didn't really know what we were doing or were supposed to do. ;0) The cake was four tiers, with ivory buttercream frosting, gold bands, and cranberry-colored marzipan grapes with fresh ivy draped on the side. Ryan made the cake topper based on an idea we both came up with. It featured a little Lego bride and groom standing in front of two computers, to signify how we met on Match.com, and two little black cats (our babies). The cake-cutting song was "Knock Me a Kiss" by Louis Jordan, which was the DJ's suggestion and worked out perfectly. It starts with "I like cake..."

There were two different flavors: almond-vanilla and "chocolate obsession" (chocolate and raspberry)

The famed cake topper

Next was the bouquet toss, which I did to Eva Cassidy's "I Wish I Was a Single Girl Again." The bouquet went straight to my friend Lacey. She didn't even have time or a chance to avoid it! So, Lacey, you're next! ;0)

That was followed by the garter toss. The second I heard Queen's "Another One Bites the Dust" start, I realized I had completely forgotten to even put the garter on! In a frenzy, I dashed upstairs, fished the garter out of my bag and jammed it onto my right leg. I don't even know if that's the leg it was supposed to go on, but nevertheless, that's where it went. Ryan made a cute little show of taking it off, which I can't wait to see the photos of. Who caught the garter? Ryan's 10-year-old nephew (and the ring bearer) Colby. Colby looked like he had just caught the plague. LOL. He's not into girls -- or anything even related to girls -- yet. It was cute.

Oh my goodness!

Then we danced some more, I went out for air, talked to people, took wayyyyy more photos and then it was over! Our last dance was to Trisha Yearwood's "To Make You Feel My Love." I love that song, but knew Ryan would think the Garth Brooks version was too country. So I tried to tone down the twang by picking the Trisha version. I think it worked out well.

Here's me taking a break. Whew!

It all went by so fast. Everyone tells you that beforehand, but you don't realize how true it is until it's all over. Our bridal party managed to sneak out to our car at some point and decorated it with "Just Married," our names and requests to honk because we were newlyweds -- which people did all the way home!

It was a beautiful day that we will always remember. We hope to have the professional photos in a couple weeks, so I will post some when they come in. And don't believe all the bad hype about married life. It's great!

Pre-wedding Daily Routine

2007-10-24T11:34:00.000-07:00

-Oatmeal and OJ for breakfast (Still working on all that leftover oatmeal from our Appalachian Trail trip. Thanks, Costco.)
-Teeth-whitening strips: 30 mins. (usually while I'm getting ready in the morning)
-Bronzing lotion (after showering)
-Vitamin E oil on gigantic burn scar to reduce appearance (burned my arm with a cookie sheet a few months ago). And yes, it does work. The scar is not as prominent.
-Airborne -- tons of people in the office are sick right now.
-Wash face before bed. If I don't, I break out.
-Daily vitamin (but that's normal for me anyway)

H-ween '07

2007-10-22T15:35:00.000-07:00

Well, we managed to pull a last-minute success out of our butts this Halloween. (Nice mental image, huh?)

You might remember that last year I was a banana and Ryan was President Bush taking out the trash (Osama). This year we had no idea what to be in order to live up to last year's costumes.

So we hit up the Spirit store in Fremont on Saturday. Ryan's old buddy is the manager there. We scoured the store, and we thought we found a winner for Ryan when we picked up a costume that can only be described as a man riding an inflatable ostrich. But it required wearing a battery-operated air pump to keep part of the costume inflated, which Ryan thought didn't sound comfortable, and the hat was missing from the package.

A second scouring of the store yielded a sexy U.S. Border Patrol agent's costume for me, and...I don't know what the name of Ryan's was. Basically, a Mexican wearing a belt full of shot glasses. We didn't even realize our costumes kind of went together until we were already walking out the door. But anyway, talk about serendipity...just as we were going to pay, Ryan's friend shows up. He wasn't supposed to be there, since he was taking time off for Oktoberfest, but had happened to stop by. And he rung us up with a fat discount -- $100 worth of costumes for $43. Rock on, Dave!

We were once again a hit at this year's party. Whew! Here are some photos:

Our hostess, Danielle, as Frida Kahlo, and of course yours truly with El Hombre.

Frida, show me your papers!

Jeanine and I looking completely innocent...

Almost there...

2007-10-18T17:35:00.000-07:00

Not including today, 10 days left until I tie the knot!

I have made a lot of progress since my last posting. I had a second dress fitting, and I'm happy to say that after shedding 10 excruciating pounds, I can now breathe better in my suit of arm...uh, I mean, my wedding gown. Final alterations are being made and I should be able to pick the dress up in a few days.

I finally nailed down the schedule of what's happening on wedding morning, and talked to my friend who's doing my makeup and confabbed with my mom on hair. The table cards arrived today and look great (I finally decided to just put them in gold frames). Ryan finished the cake topper on Monday and took it to the baker on Tuesday, and I paid the caterer today. We're meeting with the winery people on Sunday to finish paying for the beverage package and go over where things will be set up. And we met with the DJ last Saturday and finalized our list and order of events.

What's left to be done: Almost done shopping for attendant gifts; favors arrived yesterday so they need to have ribbons tied on; buy two makeup items that my friend requested; look into some sort of envelope box.

I do have to admit I'm a little freaked out about the weather...I've been checking the 10-day forecast for Livermore every day this week, and so far, that Friday and Saturday are partly cloudy and the temperature looks like it's dropping every day. Right now, it shows the day before the wedding as partly cloudy and 68 degrees (the day before it says 70, and the day before that 73, and that's down from 77 in the beginning of the week!). So, I'm hoping things don't go completely funky. I can handle chilly, but not rainy. Please no rain! (Yes, the ceremony is outdoors. The reception isn't.)

Last night some ladies in chorus threw me a little bridal shower at one of their houses in Blackhawk. I have to say it was a fantastic party! Those who attended were the select few I like and would invite to a party. ;) There were maybe 12 or 13 of us there, and two people couldn't make it. Even though I was the youngest, and most everyone out-aged me by an average of about 20 years, we had such a great time! We played the game where you make wedding dresses out of toilet paper and model them (I got to be the judge), and it was hilarious. I'll have to post some pics when I upload them. We sat around and ate, drank champagne and hot cider, had some cake, laughed a LOT, opened a ton of presents, and I even tickled a few of the ivories on the hostess's rockin' Bosendorfer. Mmm...Bosendorfer. Her house was absolutely gorgeous, and HUGE, and I felt like a schlub when I brought all my presents home and felt like I had nowhere to put them. ;) Ah, it will be nice to own a house someday! She had a carousel pony in her house. I can fit My Little Pony in mine. Heh.

So, something non-wedding-related. We are scheduled to appear at the annual j-crew (journalism crew...all my j friends) Halloween party on Saturday, and after Ryan won best costume last year, we have no idea what to wear this year to live up to that. Remember, I was a banana. Anyway, I toyed with the idea of being Olivia Elton John, but couldn't figure out a way to make that instantly recognizable. Then I thought about being a toilet, but all the toilet costumes I found are kind of hokey, and I don't have time to make my own. So...back to the drawing board. Although one could say I technically never left it...

I'm alone at work this week...the other editor's on vacation...so back to the grind!

17 Days

2007-10-10T17:44:00.000-07:00

That's right, 17 days until I enter into one of my biggest life commitments!

Of course...what else did you think I'd be blogging on?! And wow, I actually found some time to blog. ;0)

I'm ready. There's almost nothing left on the list. I ordered favors and printed ribbons...ribbons arrived; favors should be arriving shortly. I have what I think is a final head count and a rough seating chart drawn up (word to the wise, seating chart is actually proving to be one of the hardest things in the whole planning process! but, unfortunately, it seems to be frowned upon to let more than 100 people just choose where they want to sit, so seating chart is a must). I have a final dress fitting on Saturday, as well as final DJ appointment. Saw a mock-up of the flowers...they look great. Corresponded with the photographer today and everything looks like it's set. My sister has taken care of the bridesmaid jewelry. And all the groomsmen have been fitted for their tuxes. Mom is having a brunch for out-of-town family the day before the wedding, and I designed and sent out invitations for that too.

The only things that are still outstanding are getting a color swatch to the baker, which I plan on having Ryan do tomorrow on his way home from work, and we also have to get them the cake topper. That's been a little detail that's flown under the radar because we wanted to design and build it ourselves. However, Ryan didn't order the pieces until very recently, and we're still waiting for them to arrive. So I had to call the baker yesterday and cajole them into letting us bring it in 10 days in advance instead of 2 weeks (they explained that they have to approve it beforehand, and if they veto it, they want us to have enough time to come up with a back-up plan. Now that I think about it, though, if they veto it, we just won't have one. Easy.) Oh, and one other outstanding thing...I can't figure out what to have as table sign holders. Y'know...the signs that tell you what number the table is. I designed the signs myself using funny vacation photos of Ryan and I (individually and together). Those traditional metal stands that hold signs are not expensive, but I can really only find them online and the shipping is ridonculous! Probably because they're metal and heavy. So I've been perusing stores trying to figure something out. I'll probably go with (sigh) picture frames or something.

I also have to find time to get to my mom's so she can practice on my hair. She used to be a hairdresser, so I have a built-in stylist! I also have to meet with my friend who's doing my makeup to practice probably on the Friday before the wedding, which is also probably the same day I'll take my sister to have our nails done.

I know it sounds like a lot, but really, those are things I can't do until closer to the wedding. All the pre-planned stuff is pretty much done.

What's been fun is doing a lot of details myself. I don't know if it really saved us any money, but that wasn't really the point anyway. I like adding personal details so that our wedding will be memorable and reflect "us" and our tastes. We don't have a traditional first dance song. The cake topper (if it works out) isn't very traditional either. Neither is my choice of song for my procession down the aisle. Many of the songs we requested from the DJ are songs I had to burn to disc to give him because they're off the beaten path (but don't worry, I'm not talking Bjork/Beck kind of stuff...just lesser-known artists). As I blogged before, the flower girl is not a girl but a woman. :) I won't have a veil. Our recessional song is the Peanuts theme. I designed the invitations myself. The bridal party arrival song is the Imperial Death March from Star Wars. Need I say more?

So, as you can see, we just decided to do what we want, within traditional boundaries but with personal flair. There were times when we wanted to just run amok and all wear Chuck Taylors and walk down the aisle to Guns N Roses (c'mon, that Sweet Child O' Mine guitar solo is SWEET!) and go crazy, but after laughing about it for a minute, realized that we can't cater only to our tastes...our parents have been waiting our whole lives to see us get married, so it should be pleasant for them too. Besides, I don't even think my mom knows what Guns N Roses is. She might think it's a shooting range at a nursery. ;0)

Oh, I just remembered I have to set up a meeting with the winery before the rehearsal dinner. So that's one more thing on the list. I'll call them tomorrow. Oh, and attendant gifts! Haven't finished that either...although we've made progress. That's actually kind of hard too.

Meanwhile...cramming a bunch of holiday songs for some Special Blend and chorus gigs coming up right after my honeymoon. Work is crazy with meetings and projects...I guess you can see why I never have time to blog these days!

Will update soon...hopefully before 17 days is up!

You Know You Missed Him

2007-09-20T10:45:00.000-07:00

Mysterious lil ol' "CM" sent an e-mail to my work again this week...it's an "emergency," people! Yeah, I'll say...but not in the same way he's thinking.

To whom it may concern:

Recently, I reported about a strange incident that happened to me last year. A copy of it is below. It is an emergency that I speak to someone about what I saw & was told. I have sent copies to law enforcement. And I will continue to try to get in contact with someone about this. Thank you

Here is a copy of a letter that I sent to Government.

Regarding having seen a human spirit in person in November of last year. Who told me that the people here had 1 year from the time that I reported this to get off this land. And if not he would do it himself. For we were made by a scientist for an experiment, and also to set up the land for living. And I reported it immediately after this happened in November of 06 in person and through email and fax to the FBI in San Francisco, and CIA through email. The man said he placed the people here, ga! ve us the supplies, and mentally put in our brains how to do the job of setting things up here for living, building, and infrastructure meaning everything that you see here on the land. All of the businesses, everything here etc. everything that has been made by man he gave us the supplies, and the how to do it. And we were supposed to do the rest. Meaning build everything that you see here on the land and to live here. Now according to him, because conception was set from the start to happen naturally between a man and woman, there are too many people here and they are steady coming. That is the only reason we were put here is for an experiment and the work of setting up things here for living. And all of the resources and all supplies for living are too much. We are using up too many resources. And he has too keep adding to the resources. And our being here is not for the reason that we thought we were here, which is for religion. There is no religion according ! to the man, it is a made up story. So that we would feel safe her e on the earth, and to have structure and rules in the way that we live, not seeing or knowing anything about who placed us here. But the story is false according to the man. Also, he has people up there with him. They also get all of there supplies for living through this place. The guy drops the supplies that we turn into stuff for everyday living and they get there stuff for living through this place also. It was all about living here and the stuff that is dropped here that we turn into supplies for living that is all life here is about according to the man. Only about turning the supplies that are dropped into everyday items for living for the people who live above us and for us while we are here. That was the purpose for life here. According to the man, he does not even know who made him, he just appeared and had power, but he does not know how he came about or why he is even here. I first notified the FBI in San Francisco in person in November of last year about this. I will continue to try to notify the authorities to this thing. It is very important that I am contacted to find out exactly what happened. Thank you.

Cm
Calif

Odds 'n' Ends

2007-09-07T11:17:00.000-07:00

Again I have been remiss in blogging. Work seems to experience these waves of busy-ness and then periods of calm, and the past few weeks have been a wave of busy-ness. I was alone for a week while the other editor was on vacation, then I've been having to deal with legal threats from an elementary school mad about a blog item (but I consulted the company lawyer and the blog item is fine, sheesh), and the company is still blindly feeling its way around the new consolidation, which means all of us have to come along for the (bumpy) ride. Good times.

But anyway, updates! As of this writing I have finally dropped a total of 10 pounds. The same 10 pounds I've been battling for so long, I had almost resigned myself to keeping them around just for company. It's been a struggle, no doubt, but this droppage has been achieved simply by eating better. I am probably eating with the same frequency as before, but the quality has improved. Instead of junk, I'll snack on edamame or yogurt or a cereal bar...or an occasional (small) piece of chocolate. Portion control, too, has been important. It can be a killer when you go out to eat. I try to pick a salad or something I can eat half of and take the rest home. Gone are the days of yummy fries and Taco Bell and such. Although I do crave those things sometimes. ;) I'll steal a fry off Ryan's plate every now and then. And I did indulge in many a chip at Chevys the other night. But, on the whole, I've been eating healthier, and keeping in mind that I need to breathe in my wedding dress. That has been a good motivator.

Everything wedding-related is still right on track. I'm down to a few things that I can't tackle until I know exactly how many people are coming...such as ordering favors and drawing up a seating chart (we're doing assigned tables, not assigned seats). I've been polishing off the DJ list, which is actually harder than I thought it would be because you have to put a lot of care into selecting which songs you want played when. We still have to go get our marriage license, but the court we have to go to is in Oakland, and they're only open on weekdays, and they need BOTH of us there at the same time to issue the license. So we have to plan that into one of our upcoming workdays. (Plus it's a whopping $85!) We also have to finish shopping for attendant gifts and I have to figure out what the hell I'm going to do with my hair. Mom will be doing my hair, but we should have some idea in advance of how we should do it.

I have to say that I'm not in the least nervous about getting married. Lots of people talk about "cold feet" or wondering if they're doing the right thing or feeling daunted by such a huge lifetime commitment, but I am excited, confident and happy about this next step of my life. It sounds impossible, but everything is perfect. We have a nice home that we worked hard to buy and improve ourselves, both have steady and pretty well-paying jobs, we both enjoy the same things and each other, the cats are crackheads but they are happy and well-taken care of, and we aren't really struggling with anything. We don't fight (we have argued in the past, but nothing serious and it's infrequent), we both have pretty easygoing natures and we tackle life's problems together to come up with a solution. And we laugh A LOT. Things in the Hicks house are pretty good, which I am very thankful for. Marriage just seems like the next natural step, not some huge, frightening hurdle. And it's going to be fun to be able to say "this is my husband" to people. :)

Well, this is odds 'n' ends, so I'll move on to another topic, especially since this has been pretty mellow so far. So Ryan and I just recently bought an Xbox 360 (thank goodness for 6 months no interest on the Best Buy card!). I am addicted to Guitar Hero II, and I think I may soon develop carpal tunnel in both wrists. I finally beat "medium" career difficulty mode and have been dabbling in "hard" on the practice mode. They're not lying, it's hard! I don't know how people can read the "notes" that fast...or even play them that fast. There are five colored buttons on the guitar, and all of them are used in "hard" mode. Except you only have four fingers to push the buttons with, so grabbing the last button with your pinky always screws everything up. How am I supposed to get from a yellow-orange chord all the way over to a crazy green-blue thing in two milliseconds? You also have to strum with the other hand, which poses its own problems. Anyway, yes, I actually played Freebird yesterday. Let's just say it was a biotch even in medium.

Meanwhile, Ryan has been slaying Germans in Call of Duty 3. I haven't played it yet...mostly I like to watch him play. But I have kicked his butt at the tennis game and Madden '07. Yes, Madden! Who knew I could open a can of whoop-ass in video foosball?! My secret: use the "ask the coach" feature for picking plays. ;)

Um, what else. Chorus has started up again and we're working on a bunch of holiday music. We'll be doing a big performance at the giant Mormon temple in Oakland in December. They invited us to sing there, which is awesome if you've seen the temple over there. I'm not Mormon, but the architecture is pretty neat. We're also working hard in Special Blend to get a holiday set together for live parties and events this winter. If you know of someone who needs live entertainment at their party, have them check us out! www.specialblendgroup.com or www.myspace.com/specialblendgroup

Wow, this is long. OK, enough for now. Live long and prosper!

Interesting Stuff

2007-08-24T17:04:00.000-07:00

From yet another e-mail I received...

Q: Why are many coin banks shaped like pigs?
A: Long ago, dishes and cookware in Europe were made of a dense orange clay called "pygg". When people saved coins in jars made of this clay, the jars became known as "pygg banks." When an English potter misunderstood the word, he made a bank that resembled a pig. And it caught on.

Q: Did you ever wonder why dimes, quarters and half-dollars have notches, while pennies and nickels do not?
A: The U.S. Mint began putting notches on the edges of coins containing gold and silver to discourage holders from shaving off small quantities of the precious metals. Dimes, quarters and half-dollars are notched because they used to contain silver. Pennies and nickels aren't notched because the metals they contain are not valuable enough to shave.

Q: Why do men's clothes have buttons on the right while women's clothes have buttons on the left?
A: When buttons were invented, they were very expensive and worn primarily by the rich. Because wealthy women were dressed by maids, dressmakers put the buttons on the maid's right. Since most people are right-handed, it is easier to push buttons on the right through holes on the left. And that's where women's buttons have remained since.

Q: Why do X's at the end of a letter signify kisses?
A: In the Middle Ages, when many people were unable to read or write, documents were often signed using an X. Kissing the X represented an oath to fulfill obligations specified in the document. The X and the kiss eventually became synonymous.

Q: Why is shifting responsibility to someone else called "passing the buck"?
A: In card games, it was once customary to pass an item, called a buck, from player to player to indicate whose turn it was to deal. If a player did not wish to assume the responsibility, he would "pass the buck" to the next player.

Q: Why do people clink their glasses before drinking a toast?
A: It used to be common for someone to try to kill an enemy by offering him a poisoned drink. To prove to a guest that a drink was safe, it became customary for the guest to pour a small amount of his drink into the glass of the host. Both men would drink it simultaneously. When a guest trusted his host, he would then just touch or clink the host's glass with his own.

Q: Why are people in the public eye said to be "in the limelight"?
A: Invented in 1825, limelight was used in lighthouses and stage lighting by burning a cylinder of lime, which produced a brilliant light. In the theatre, performers on stage "in the limelight" were seen by the audience to be the center of attention.

Q: Why do ships and aircraft in trouble use "mayday" as their call for help?
A: This comes from the French word "m'aidez" -- meaning "help me" -- and is pronounced "mayday."

Q: Why is someone who is feeling great "on cloud nine"?
A: Types of clouds are numbered according to the altitudes they attain, with nine being the highest cloud. If someone is said to be on cloud nine, that person is floating well above worldly cares.

Q: Why are zero scores in tennis called "love"?
A: In France, where tennis first became popular, a big, round zero on scoreboard looked like an egg and was called "l'oeuf," which is French for "egg." When tennis was introduced in the U.S., Americans pronounced it "love."

Q: In golf, where did the term "caddy" come from?
A. When Mary, later Queen of Scots, went to France as a young girl (for education & survival), Louis, King of France, learned that she loved the Scot game "golf." So he had the first golf course outside of Scotland built for her enjoyment. To make sure she was properly chaperoned (and guarded) while she played, Louis hired cadets from a military school to accompany her. Mary liked this a lot and when she returned to Scotland (not a very good idea in the long run), she took the practice with her. In French, the word cadet is pronounced "ca-day" and the Scots changed it into "caddy."

So now you know!

Special Request

2007-08-13T17:44:00.000-07:00

I had lunch with Lulu the other day, and she requested that I blog about my impending nuptials. I realized that she's right, I haven't really written about anything wedding-related! So here you go.

So far everything has been going well. (OK, sorry, here I have to interrupt to note that my co-worker is loudly talking on the phone about how a catheter irritated his bladder. Volume control, please! There are actually some things a newsroom should not know.) Anyway, we got a lot of things done early, and now we're basically down to the fine details. The last big thing on the list is meeting with the DJ, which we're doing on Saturday, to set the playlist.

What I'm tackling right now is the fact that I can't take a deep breath when I have my dress on. The alteration lady advised that I lose 5 pounds. I already lost 6 before I went in for the fitting, so now I have to shed 5 more! She actually repeatedly reminded me not to lose more than 7-10 pounds, or the dress would be too loose. I was like, don't lose MORE than that? I really don't think that's going to be a problem! So here I am, fiendishly dieting...and by that I don't mean I am starving myself, I mean that when faced with an item of food, I have to ask myself: "Do I really need this?" Most of the time it's no. If I'm hungry, I eat a snack or some fruit. Lean Pockets are great for lunch, and I can usually have a normal dinner. For afternoon snack I have a cereal bar (because we have a TON left over from our Appalachian Trail trip). I've also been eating breakfast religiously, because I've read in numerous places that eating something within 2 hours of waking up jumpstarts your metabolism. So I usually have cereal with almond or rice milk, or oatmeal. (Recently I discovered a nice concoction: heat up some regular oatmeal and stir in a spoonful of peanut butter and a little sugar...good source of fiber and protein.) Wow...long paragraph on my eating habits. But anyway, NO soda -- not even diet -- and occasionally I'll have a little ice cream, but usually some nuts or some fruit for dessert works. Whatever I'm doing is working, because I've lost the 6 pounds. I'm also pumping a little iron, and will soon focus very intensely on the abs.

Whew. OK. What else...we already picked the cake and we're designing our own cake topper. It will be a little Lego bride and groom, each sitting at a computer, because that's how Ryan and I met (hooray, Match.com). I designed the invitations and response cards, got them printed and my sister is in the process of addressing them so they can be mailed out. I'm pretty sure I've got the favors picked out, and I've shopped a little for bridesmaids gifts. The limo is booked, and everything is set at the hotel for out-of-towners. I met with my family friend last week about the flowers, because she is a flower arranger, and everything seems pretty set on that front.

Oh, Lulu found this interesting, so I'll share. The flower girl is actually not a "girl." She is the same age as me. She has been begging me for years to be the flower girl when I get married. Originally, a friend's twin daughters were going to be the flower girls. But then I had to fire that friend (from my wedding, from my life, etc. -- long story), so that also ixnayed the flower girls. When Ryan and I met with our officiant, he was writing out the order of the ceremony and asked who the flower girl was. I said I didn't have one, but joked that a friend my age really wanted to do it. He looked at us for a moment, then broke into a smile and said yes, we should definitely have her do it. So voila, I now have a flower "woman." She will have a cute dress and a little basket and everything.

Tuxes, done. Bridesmaid attire, done. Still need to do: programs, seating chart, order the favors, finish shopping for attendant gifts, figure out what the heck I'm doing for my bachelorette party! Oh yeah, and lose 4-5 pounds before my next dress fitting!

That's it for now. I probably have more to write, but I have to run out the door...

A Rant

2007-08-01T10:49:00.000-07:00

Well, after all, this is the Rant Farm.

I need a moment to vent about the career field I have chosen for myself. I got into journalism because I felt I actually have some talent when it comes to writing, and the other journalism-y things just seemed to come naturally. Journalism sounds like a respectable field. When you go to parties and people ask what you do, and you say "journalist," I'll admit it sounds impressive.

However, no one tells you before you get into the j-field that it is looked upon with the same respect that garbage men command.

I get so frustrated with and tired of journalists always being dumped on. We're called liberals (which in itself is not really an insult, but since journalists are supposed to be unbiased, its intended meaning changes), communists, stupid, incompetent, inflexible, sensationalist...etc. I myself have been insulted on numerous occasions for what I do for a living. People really have NO understanding of how journalism works.

Everyone complains that they want fair and balanced coverage that we're not giving them. Yet they piss and moan all over us when we don't do a story entirely on their point of view. Why don't we? Because it's not fair and balanced.

Every time there's a controversial issue, people explode when we feature BOTH sides. Why? Because they feel that putting the other side in ruins their message. Yeah, well, that's not our problem. Yet, I still have to waste my time explaining this to these people over the phone and by e-mail. Over and over and over again. All the while they are calling me a liberal leftist communist bastard or whatever...and I'm supposed to sit here with my $50K a year and just swallow it? Want me to bend over, too? WTF?

Journalism has tainted my view of people. While I have encountered many nice folks who just have an interesting story to tell, there are still the flies in the ointment. The people who use and take advantage of you, yet still turn around and complain to your boss -- or anyone who will listen -- that it was your paper who took advantage of them! Shady. Shady, shady people. No common sense. They'll do anything to get their way. They want fair media, but they want it to be fair only when it favors them. It. Does. Not. Make. Sense.

I guess it's just really annoying to have to deal every day with people unhappy about EVERYTHING, and blaming you for it. They're grumpy, cranky, angry, etc., about things that happened in their past, which has turned them into the person they are today, and they have to take it out on you. Now it's the newspaper's fault we're not fulfilling their needs. Seriously, you'd be surprised at some of the calls/letters/e-mails/comments I receive. And some of them get really personal. All because I chose to be a journalist? WTF? That doesn't seem right.

I've been thinking about pursuing graphic design. I don't know how much money this will cost. If it's a lot, obviously I won't be able to do it. But I do want to look into what it would entail.

I'm not saying I don't have a thick skin. I'm just saying that this stuff is so irritating after a while! Anyway, I'm done ranting. Now I have to go to a meeting where who knows what will happen. Ciao!

Tuning In Tokyo

2007-07-31T11:53:00.000-07:00

Yet another winner of an e-mail I got yesterday at work. It's either the answer to what's going on in Lost, or another Matrix sequel waiting to happen.

--------------------

To whom it may concern:

Here is a copy of a letter that was sent to Government.

Regarding seeing a human spirit in person in November of last year. Who told me that the people here had 1 year from the time that I reported this to get off this land. And if not he would do it himself. For we were made by a scientist for an experiment, and also to set up the land for living. And I reported it immediately after this happened in November of ‘06 in person and through email and fax to the FBI in San Francisco, and CIA through email. The man said he placed the people here, gave us the supplies, and mentally put in our brains how to do the job of setting things up here for living, building, and infrastructure meaning everything that you see here on the land. All of the businesses, everything here etc. everything that has been made by man he gave and give us the supplies, and the how to do it. And we were and supposed to do the rest. Meaning build everything that you see here on the land and to live here until contacted. Now according to him, because conception was set from the start to happen naturally between a man and woman, there are too many people here and they are steady coming. That is the only reason we were put here is for an experiment and the work of setting up things here for living. And all of the resources such as animals, and all supplies for living, etc are too much. We are using up too many resources. And he has too keep adding to the resources. And our being here is not for the reason that we thought we were here, which is for religion. There is no religion according to the man, it is a made up story. So that we would feel safe here on the earth, and to have structure and rules in the way that we live, not seeing or knowing anything about who placed us here. But the story is false according to the man. Also, he has people up there with him, According to the man, he does not even know who made him, he just appeared and had power, but he does not know how he came about or why he is even here. I first notified the FBI in November of last year about this. I will continue to try and notify the authorities and media to this thing. Thank you.

CM

Calif

Finite Incantatem

2007-07-30T15:56:00.000-07:00

So I will rip a page from WGD's book (yes, I read WGD too) (and no, no pun intended) with my own...

HARRY POTTER PREDICTIONS

(I'm halfway through the book, so I still don't know "what happened.")

-Harry and Hermione fall in love, alienating Harry from Ron and Ginny forever and making Harry and Ron arch rivals. If there were more books in the series, they would follow the Potter/Weasley feud, in which life would prove to be so hard to bear that Ron turns to the Dark Arts and becomes the next You-Know-Who for a new generation.

-Rita Skeeter turns out to have been under the Imperius Curse. When Harry breaks the curse, Rita rescues The Daily Prophet and turns it into the crown jewel of the wizarding world. Until Ron's brother Percy infiltrates...

-No one dies. Yes, that's what I'm predicting, no one else dies! OK, maybe Fleur. She's annoying. I do not like reading 'er accent all ze time.

-Dumbledore is really bad and Snape is really good. The houses of Gryffindor and Slytherin are devastated, and a fatal incident at a Quidditch match suspends the sport at Hogwarts indefinitely.

-Dumbledore is still alive. Dun-dun-DUN!

-Voldemort is Harry's dad. A la "Luke, I am your father." Umbridge is Harry's mom. (Why did I suddenly think of the love scene between Dr. Evil and Frau Farbissina in Austin Powers?)

-It is all a figment of an autistic child's imagination. Harry Potter turns out to be a blond 6-year-old boy who lives in Brooklyn and has an odd fascination with cardboard boxes. He likes chicken nuggets and crayons. Preferably together.

Really Disciplined Prisoners

2007-07-27T10:33:00.000-07:00

Check out this YouTube video of Filipino prisoners dancing to Thriller. They're inmates at Cebu Provincial Detention and Rehabilitation Center in Cebu, Philippines. There are other related videos of them on YouTube, but this is the best one. Happy Friday!

Here I Am

2007-07-24T14:39:00.000-07:00

No, I am not under the bed collecting dust bunnies. Nor have I been chasing leprechauns or counting the infinitesimal sands of the world's beaches. But I have been away a lot! Last we left off, I was departing for my Appalachian Trail adventure. The photos are done, but I need to tweak some of the narration before I post the link.

After I got back, I worked for a week while the other editor went on vacation. Which means I was way too swamped, what with catching up and doing the work of two people, to blog. Je suis désolée.

After THAT week, I left for a 3-day business trip to Denver. Got to see some old friends from Movies 7 while I was there, which was the highlight of the trip. The rest of the time was spent butting heads with other editors and publishers in the company, and learning about/discussing the future of online content and print journalism.

I returned last Tuesday, worked for two days, then left on Friday for Monterey with Ryan and our friends Bryan and Julie. Destination: Moto GP! As Ryan puts it, it's the NASCAR of the motorcycle world. We had a blast riding around, checking out bikes, watching the race, being silly, taking pictures and just all around gawking at people. Oh yeah, and coming thisclose to getting two of the big Moto GP stars to autograph our tickets. Alas, we got the shaft. Next time!

Here's a link to the Moto GP photos (with Ryan's narration): www.wilit.com/motogp.html. Enjoy!

wbaad

I Know How to Make President Bush Smart!

2007-06-21T16:54:00.000-07:00

I have finally figured out a way to make our boy W seem smart.

Y'see, it started when I was watching Prince William and Prince Harry (secretly known as the Royal Hotties...oh shoot, now it's not a secret!) doing their interview on TV the other night. And I realized how intelligent people sound when they speak with an English accent. Even little kids.

Ergo, President Bush should begin speaking with an English accent. He will start to sound like he actually knows what he's talking about, and -- since Ryan says the accent might give people the impression that W is, as the British say, "a puff" -- it will endear him to a new section of the voting population.

Voila! I present to you: Operation Bangers and Mash.

-------------

Doing that blog tag thing the other day got me to thinking of other weird factoids about myself. Such as, I never take off my watch. Seriously, it's waterproof and I never have a reason to remove it unless I feel like wearing another watch. Which isn't often, since my preferred one matches with everything. I don't know...it's always been a thing with me and my watch. I like being able to see what time it is if I wake up in the middle of the night. I like being able to see what time it is when I'm in the shower. But, just to show that I'm not a COMPLETE slave to habit, I have stopped wearing my watch upside-down (with the dial on the bottom of my wrist instead of on the top). My old one was getting scratched up while I typed at work. Ryan hates my watch. He said it pulls out his (meager) stomach hair when we cuddle at night. Feh.

Another weird thing about me....I have a total phobia of walking in front of someone pushing a shopping cart. Bad experiences when I was little, coupled with an inattentive little sister at the store, have left me with a fear of having my Achilles tendons driven through the fronts of my ankles. Just the other day I was walking home and there was someone behind me with a shopping cart. I felt apprehensive the whole time I crossed the street. I just can't stand that feeling of knowing something with wheels is behind me!

---------

Well, there will be another long stretch without blogs...we leave for our Appalachian Trail adventure at Buttcrack A.M. on Saturday and don't return until July 8. I'll update you on the trip when we get back!

Tagged...

2007-06-07T13:24:00.000-07:00

OK, Lulu tagged me and I promised I'd do it because I haven't been blogging as much. So here it is.

The rules: Each person tagged gives 7 random facts about themselves. Those who are tagged need to write on their own blog their own 7 random facts as well as the rules of the game. You need to tag seven other people and list their names on your blog. Then you leave those you plan on tagging a note in their comments so they know that they have been tagged and to read your blog.

7 Random Facts:
1. I can come up with 7 random facts about myself in my head while I'm walking to work, and then forget them all when I sit down to type them out.

2. I'm a total armchair critic. I don't mean I criticize armchairs, that would just be silly. Unless, of course, the armchair is being insolent and deserves it. Then it's totally merited. What I mean is that I love watching Idol and other such things on TV (or in person) and giving my own critique. It's funny when about 75 percent of the time, the judges on Idol say exactly the same thing I just said a minute before, such as that the person had no dynamics or intonation was off or whatever. On the flip side, I don't really like exposing my talents to people for their critiques. ;0) Not that I can't handle it, it's just that I like to keep my bubble intact.

3. I'm always coming up with ideas and inventions, none of which I ever do anything about beyond mentally conceiving them. Examples: the heated motorcycle helmet, and a bumper sticker that says "Geologists are gneiss."

4. "Bad" things seem to happen to me all at once. Like they want to get it over with in one fell swoop, so they all happen in the same day. For example, I blogged not too long ago about how I had to wait in a Jamba Juice for 20 minutes, only to get the wrong size drink and drop it on the ground outside before stepping in gum. This morning I happened to drop my keys in the dumpster in our complex. I was throwing away a bag of used cat litter, and had my keys in the same hand (the other hand was occupied with purse, a set of clothes and my tote bag full of sheet music for rehearsal tonight). Luckily, Thursday is garbage day and the dumpster had just been emptied. Still, the keys landed in the inch of slime/gunk (slunk?) on the bottom, and I had to climb halfway in to retrieve them. Extra upsetting was the fact that I had just gotten out of the shower 15 minutes before. I hastily made use of the Lysol disinfectent wipes I had in the kitchen. But anyway, I just came back from lunch break and guess what happened again? No, I didn't drop my keys in the garbage, thanks for going there. No, I stepped in gum! GRR. And it was all extra moist and gooey, and that reallymintyblue kind. Argh. I had to use my hands to get it off because it got all up on the side of my shoe. Now, you might say that I seem to be clutzy or whatever. Partly true, I admit, but I also allege that there is some kind of "bad stuff" magnet out there, and sometimes it finds me! I have to admit that I got really mad at whoever decided to spit their gum out on the sidewalk instead of throw it in the garbage.

5. I hate doing performance evaluations at work. They are annoying, time intensive and can be so personal. Especially when you have to tell an employee that basically they are crap. My life would be so much easier without them. The evals, I mean, not the employee. Although...

6. Sometimes I'm fascinated with other people's conversations in public places. I know. I can't help it.

7. I love e-mail. I love it more than the phone or going across the room to talk to someone. I realize this is considered "unhealthy" and that I am a product of the technology generation. But e-mail is so easy. I can read it when I want. If someone sends me something I don't want to deal with, I can delete it and "oops, I never got it." I can save them into different folders and keep everything organized for reference. I can even e-mail myself with reminders! I heart e-mail. Sometimes I doodle "Mrs. Kim E-mail" in my notebooks. Kidding. Sort of. ;0)

Well, that's it. And I don't know anyone on blogger who hasn't already been tagged! Sorry!

Hello? Hello? Is This Thing On?

2007-05-30T17:07:00.000-07:00

I once again apologetically acknowledge that I have been remiss in blogging. Seriously, work is a ton busier than I thought it would be, and at the end of the day all I want to do is stuff my face with dinner and complete my to-do lists at home.

But anyway. To update a few things, the gigs went great. Special Blend pulled off the two-hour set at the Blackhawk Film Festival without any problems on our part. Now, to the $#*&( lady who was running the SILENT auction and screaming into a microphone every two minutes that such-and-such auction was about to end, I would like to extend a big F.U. You heard me. That screaming was rude and VERY distracting. Do you know how hard it already is to sing 5-part harmony and concentrate on what expression to have glued on your face, what lyrics come next, how far away from your mouth you need to be holding the mic and at what angle, pondering whether you're using stands or stools for the next song, etc., and THEN have to slog through it all while an obnoxious woman screams into the P.A.? She's lucky I have a little bit of tact, or I'd have left there minus a shoe.

The chorus shows were fine too. While I wasn't nervous at the film festival at ALL, I was super nervous at the big show at the regional center in Walnut Creek. I don't know...I guess it's something about a captive audience all staring at you at once. At least at the film fest they were wandering around, talking, eating food, passively listening. At the regional center, you feel hundreds of eyes burning into you. But, I managed to paste on some expression that said "I'm totally having fun and don't feel like barfing or peeing my pants at all!" Huzzah.

Next, we have decided on our summer vacation plans: We'll be hiking a 100-mile portion of the Appalachian Trail, ostensibly from New York to Connecticut (and Massachusetts, if we're not dead by CT). Yes, this is going to be a physically demanding trip. We thought we'd save money on not doing a road trip this year because gas prices are so high. However, after buying plane tickets and gear, we're pretty much breaking even. Ryan and I will each have to carry a 40-pound pack on our backs, with everything (including food) that we'll need to survive for two weeks. As you've probably guessed, that means not a lot of clothes. I will be bringing more socks and underwear than shirts and pants. Hey, it's all about lightweight stuff that dries quickly after you wash it.

Anyway, we did a practice trip this past weekend in Henry Coe State Park in Morgan Hill. It was exhausting. We hiked 20 miles in two days, and did tons of elevation even though our portion of the AT appears to not change elevation much. We also left a day early because a) so sore even my hair hurt and b) day 2 campsite looked like something from The Hills Have Eyes. No thanks. It was only 3.5 miles back to the car at that point, so we decided to come home. We learned that I will need to slather every inch of myself in bug repellent. And sunblock (yeah, my left ear burned, as well as the area around my watch). Either we need a new tent or need to set it up better, because the ceiling sagged and collected condensation from our breathing. Water is heavy. Outhouses in the middle of the wilderness are marked with the little wheelchair symbol because....? Do those really need to be handicap accessible? How are you gonna get a wheelchair down there?! Also, the word "Restroom" was also written in braille. Again, middle of the wilderness. Yeah. If you're blind and you're hiking, you're probably with someone who can see. Which would negate the need for braille, because the seeing person would just tell you "here's the bathroom." If you're alone and you need the braille, how are you gonna know the bathroom's even there in the first place?!

Saw a California King snake, some fuzzy caterpillars, a red-winged blackbird, a giant slug that looked like a cousin of a banana slug, and a deer. Ryan was most frightened by...the slug.

More later. Also, I see Lulu has tagged me, so I'll have to tackle that as well. :)

Back to the grind...

Show dates...

2007-05-03T16:44:00.001-07:00

Hi everyone,

I'll be performing with The Blackhawk Chorus and Special Blend on the following dates:

BHC AND SPECIAL BLEND:
Friday, May 11
The Rettig Center, St. Isidore Church
440 La Gonda Way, Danville
Time: 7:30 p.m.
Admission: $15 suggested donation
Program: The Great American Songbook

Sunday, May 20
Dean Lesher Regional Center for the Arts
1601 Civic Drive, Walnut Creek
Time: 3 p.m.
Tickets: (925) 943-SHOW or order tickets online
Program: The Great American Songbook

SPECIAL BLEND ONLY:
Thursday, May 17
Blackhawk Food, Wine & Film Festival
Blackhawk Museum
3700 Blackhawk Plaza Circle, Danville
Time: 5 p.m.
Click here to order tickets

Monday, June 11
with The Contra Costa Jazz Band, and Garry Stevens
Del Valle Theatre
1963 Tice Valley Blvd., Walnut Creek
Time: 8 p.m.
Admission: Free

You can also get this information on the Blackhawk Chorus Web site, www.blackhawkchorus.com, and the Special Blend site, www.specialblendgroup.com.

I SWEAR I Am Alive!

2007-04-26T17:50:00.000-07:00

OK, whew, the teachers strike has ended. Hopefully things will start calming down at work now. I was really getting the lifeblood sucked out of me every day. Who know a strike could be so stressful for someone who's not even involved in it??

Anyway, I wanted to shoot off a quick blog on a weird incident at chorus the other night. I know you know this line from a song: "Pardon me, boy, is that the Chattanooga Choo Choo?" Well, we're singing that song. This guy in chorus raises his hand and says that especially nowadays, the term "boy" is pejorative. As in racist. Half the chorus nods. The other half, like me, shakes their heads in disbelief. That's a classic song and a very well-known line...you can't just go and change it!

But they did anyway. Now we sing "Pardon me, sir." And it sounds absolutely weird. Besides, I think changing such a well-known line like that just brings even more attention to the fact that it used to say "boy." And then people start to think about it and realize the word must have been replaced because there was something wrong with it. So how is it fixing anything by putting in a new word?

Not to mention that our first performance is next week, and I don't think half the guys are gonna remember to say "sir" instead of "boy." Habit.

Anyway, back to the last few minutes of the grind...then off to mega rehearsal with the small group. Hope to write again soon! (BTW, you can find my concert dates at www.blackhawkchorus.com, under the "performances" tab, and at www.specialblendgroup.com, under the "shows" tab.)

Yes, I Am Alive

2007-04-10T16:57:00.000-07:00

But I was promoted two weeks ago and haven't been able to do much blogging since stepping into the new position. I am still at the same office, but I am now the editor of the paper. This means I spend a lot of my day fielding (even more) weird phone calls and tons of ranting letters to the editor, in addition to the new influx of spam that my account receives daily because of a new work e-mail group I've been added to that is advertised on our Web site. Throw into the mix the fact that we have a huge teachers strike going on here, and voila, you can see why I haven't been blogging. I'm also in the process of planning a wedding, attending rehearsals twice a week, squeezing in workouts where I can and trying to maintain some semblance of a social life. On the plus side, the work day does go by faster. And I'm on a normal 9-6 schedule, which I love.

Oops...I just remembered I have to take some stuff to Salvation Army across the way before I head out to visit my mom and then go to choir. Hope everyone is well!

A Nice Little Story

2007-03-29T13:12:00.000-07:00

This came to me via a broadcast e-mail from chorus. I like the message.

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On Nov. 18, 1995, Itzhak Perlman, the violinist, came on stage to give a concert at Avery Fisher Hall at Lincoln Center in New York City. If you have ever been to a Perlman concert, you know that getting on stage is no small achievement for him. He was stricken with polio as a child, and so he has braces on both legs and walks with the aid of two crutches. To see him walk across the stage one step at a time, painfully and slowly, is an awesome sight.

He walks painfully, yet majestically, until he reaches his chair. Then he sits down, slowly, puts his crutches on the floor, undoes the clasps on his legs, tucks one foot back and extends the other foot forward. Then he bends down and picks up the violin, puts it under his chin, nods to the conductor and proceeds to play.

By now, the audience is used to this ritual. They sit quietly while he makes his way across the stage to his chair. They remain reverently silent while he undoes the clasps on his legs. They wait until he is ready to play.

But this time, something went wrong. Just as he finished the first few bars, one of the strings on his violin broke. You could hear it snap -- it went off like gunfire across the room. There was no mistaking what that sound meant. There was no mistaking what he had to do. We figured that he would have to get up, put on the clasps again, pick up the crutches and limp his way off stage -- to either find another violin or else find another string for this one. But he didn't. Instead, he waited a moment, closed his eyes and then signaled the conductor to begin again.

The orchestra began, and he played from where he had left off. And he played with such passion and such power and such purity as they had never heard before.

Of course, anyone knows that it is impossible to play a symphonic work with just three strings. I know that, and you know that, but that night Itzhak Perlman refused to know that.

You could see him modulating, changing, re-composing the piece in his head. At one point, it sounded like he was de-tuning the strings to get new sounds from them that they had never made before. When he finished, there was an awesome silence in the room. And then people rose and cheered. There was an extraordinary outburst of applause from every corner of the auditorium. We were all on our feet, screaming and
cheering, doing everything we could to show how much we appreciated what he had done.

He smiled, wiped the sweat from this brow, raised his bow to quiet us, and then he said -- not boastfully, but in a quiet, pensive, reverent tone -- "You know, sometimes it is the artist's task to find out how much music you can still make with what you have left."

What a powerful line that is. It has stayed in my mind ever since I heard it. And who knows? Perhaps that is the definition of life -- not just for artists but for all of us. Here is a man who has prepared all his life to make music on a violin of four strings, who, all of a sudden, in the middle of a concert, finds himself with only three strings; so he makes music with three strings, and the music he made
that night with just three strings was more beautiful, more sacred, more memorable than any that he had ever made before, when he had four strings.

So, perhaps our task in this shaky, fast-changing, bewildering world in which we live is to make music, at first with all that we have, and then, when that is no longer possible, to make music with what we have left.

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2007-03-21T19:07:00.000-07:00

Whatever you do, do NOT look up "harlequin" in Google Images.

That is all.

This'll Make Your Head Hurt

2007-03-15T14:16:00.000-07:00

I would like to take this time to again point out the contradiction that words can present. It just occurred to me that by saying, "I'm speechless," you are technically NOT speechless. If you were speechless, you would say nothing at all. Not a single sound would emanate from the mouth hole on your face. Actually, that's not true, because technically a noise is not always considered speech. So if you were to utter "kweeeeee!", that, as far as I know, is not a word (an English word, anyway), so it wouldn't be considered speech. It'd be considered noise. So the next time you want to say you're speechless, say "kweeeeee!" instead. But don't say, "I'm speechless!", because that's not true. You have just used speech.

It's just like the word "unmentionables," which I think I previously blogged about. As in, "Don't look at my unmentionables!" Well, by calling them unmentionables, you are mentioning them. Therefore, somewhere a grammar geek's head has imploded. Possibly mine. Yes, very possibly mine. Oh dear...that would make me speechless.

Lastly, Ryan and I came up with a brain bender. We were discussing (for whatever nerdly reason, don't ask) the properties of an infinite line. Now, if it were a straight line (not a circle, which is an unbroken -- but not straight -- line), that means it must have end points. If so, the line cannot technically be infinite. Because those end points have to fall somewhere. Therefore, the line is finite. Now, my boss tried to explain to me something about space curving, and then Ryan said something about Stephen Hawking and space being a parabola...at this point, I become (haha) speechless. Seriously, my loss of speech is unmentionable. Oops! But anyway, even if the line did become a parabola because of the shape of space, the same thing applies. There must be end points on this "infinite" parabola, meaning it isn't infinite.

That's where I start to think about the universe, and empty space, and how it must end somewhere, and if so, what does it look like and what's beyond it, and if not....HOW IS THAT POSSIBLE?!

Whew, I need a nap now. Maybe I should start devoting my attention to more important and easier to grasp things, like Britney's cue ball.

This is so true!

2007-03-12T17:11:00.000-07:00

Except for me, of course, who keeps a freakishly neat desk. But I will attest to the general messiness of newsrooms...and people stealing my pens. Oh yeah, and I'm not kidding, I just threw away a dead plant. This guy has it dead on!

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The myth of a neat newsroom -- exposed!

Peter Hartlaub
Thursday, March 8, 2007

Hollywood filmmakers are big fakers. This becomes especially clear when they create a movie or a television show about your chosen profession.

Whether you're a doctor watching "Grey's Anatomy" (doesn't anybody at this hospital ever do rounds?), a lawyer watching "Law & Order" (how did they get from an arrest to a murder trial in three days?) or some guy on a deserted island watching "Lost" (what are these people doing for clean underwear? And why doesn't anybody have scurvy?), the problems are in the details.

Which is why I could never totally get into "Zodiac," an otherwise solid movie that happens to take place inside The Chronicle. Despite good acting, a fascinating story and a great director, the reporters' work spaces are way too tidy. From television comedies such as "Ugly Betty" to big-budget movies such as "The Devil Wears Prada," directors and production designers seem incapable of re-creating the gravity-defying clutter that fills most American newsrooms.

The first thing they always get wrong is the desks, which in "Zodiac" are neatly organized with metal book ends and carefully marked manila folders. In real life, newspaper reporters just lie down a few of their heavier books horizontally to keep the others from falling, or they cram everything into the shelf tightly so all solid matter surrounding it is unable to move, like a well-played game of Tetris. Sure, a few desks are organized, but many others dot the newsroom like little islands of compost -- resembling the living room of one of those crazy guys who never throws anything away.

This isn't saying that all newspaper desktops are festering piles of decomposing pulp. But if I'm an opossum who has been recently displaced by construction work, I'm going to the nearest newsroom and making a home within the work space of one of the cops or courtroom reporters. You could burrow a basketball-size hole, feed off half-eaten ham sandwiches and birthday cake and raise a nice opossum family.

The typical journalist's work area will also include at least three of the following:
-- One dead plant, partially covered by a pile of used reporter's notebooks.
-- A bunch of stuff the ergonomics consultant dropped off two years ago, in an unopened pile.
-- Several posters of Giants and 49ers players who have long since been traded or released.
-- A movie poster that was an inside joke between two other staff members -- both of whom quit or retired at least seven years ago.

That last one may sound strange, but it holds true at almost every newspaper I've worked at. I just took a three-minute hike around The Chronicle, and found movie memorabilia for "Dirty Dancing," "Elektra" and -- I swear to God I'm not making this up -- a full-size poster from the Harrison Ford-in-Amish country thriller "Witness."

Messy desks and random decor aren't the only things that television and the movies get wrong about newsrooms. "Absence of Malice" suggested that a reporter could get a story into the paper without any of her editors knowing about it. Several movies have reinforced the idea that a beat reporter can just drop everything for months at a time. And some journalists on TV shows do no work at all. In 10 combined seasons of "Suddenly Susan" and "Just Shoot Me," did Brooke Shields or Laura San Giacomo write or edit a single story?

Next, there's the alternate reality in Drew Barrymore's "Never Been Kissed," where copy editors have their own offices. Every group of copy editors I've worked with is lined up in two evenly distributed rows of tightly packed cubicles, like a team of basketball players flying in coach.

Over the years, a few journalism movies have gotten the little things right. "All the President's Men" is hallowed ground. I'm told by multiple colleagues that "Deadline USA" with Humphrey Bogart was a good film, deftly handling the clutter issue. And occasionally, an otherwise forgettable movie will display a keen eye for journalism culture.

"True Crime," one of the worst Clint Eastwood-directed movies in recent years, fails as a thriller, but works OK as a tribute to crusty old guy journalists. While the plot -- Eastwood as an Oakland newspaper reporter trying to prove a death row inmate's innocence -- has problems, his character's held-together-with-duct-tape convertible and general neglect of loved ones in favor of work is spot on.

Even less serious movies such as "Spider-Man" can include knowing nods to reporting culture. Although this may be a case of the cart pushing the horse, every journalist on the planet has had at least one boss who talks exactly like J. Jonah Jameson. ("Hoffman! Run down to the patent office and copyright the name 'Green Goblin.' I want a quarter every time someone says it.")

The newsroom in "Zodiac," however, seems like a completely foreign place, even though the building it depicts is one I walk through every day. While I admittedly wasn't alive when the events in "Zodiac" begin, the portrayal of a journalist's work space seems off -- something that was confirmed by a few veterans here.

In "Zodiac," Chronicle reporter Paul Avery, played by Robert Downey Jr., is clearly supposed to be the "messy one." This is conveyed to the audience by six or seven balled-up pieces of typing paper on his desk. Almost every other work space in the movie has a Nurse Ratched-like dedication to orderliness, with neatly stacked books and cups that are well-stocked with pens and pencils.

I steal all of my pens from Tim Goodman's side of our shared office, one of the penalties suffered by the handful of reporters who keep neat work spaces. And our desks? You could gather every piece of paper on every one of the rows and rows of desks in "Zodiac," pile them onto one surface -- and it still would be shamed by one of our messier cubicles.

Here are a few suggestions for the next Hollywood director who wants to make a movie about a newsroom. Just get the last one right and I'll be happy.

More birthday cakes: At any given moment at every newspaper I've worked at, there are three separate groups of people singing "Happy Birthday." It's like working at Chevy's, except without a constant flow of fresh tortillas. Any journalism movie worth a damn needs to have at least one pile of frosting-encrusted paper plates.

Fewer hot people: Before "Zodiac" started, a trailer ran for the movie "Perfect Stranger," where Halle Berry plays an investigative reporter. In addition to Robert Redford in "All the President's Men," other incredibly beautiful actors depicting newspaper reporters include Julia Roberts ("I Love Trouble") and Hayden Christensen ("Shattered Glass"). In reality, the average journalist is charitably a 4.5 on a scale of 1 to 10. Start your casting with Larry David and Shelley Duvall, and avoid anybody who ever did a guest spot on "Friends."

Kill the plants: Another niggling detail that "Zodiac" got wrong: The movie version of the Chronicle newsroom has a small greenhouse worth of thriving flora. In the typical newsroom, there will usually be a maximum of two healthy plants, and 47 others in varying states of death and decay. Kill the plants, and your movie will flourish.

E-mail Peter Hartlaub at phartlaub@sfchronicle.com.

My Favorite Story of the Week (so far)

2007-03-07T13:21:00.000-08:00

Wassup! Princes Pull Phone Prank on Queen Elizabeth II

FOX News

LONDON — Princely pranksters William and Harry have been accused of recording a bogus message on Queen Elizabeth II's answering machine.

The pair were asked for help by their regal gran when she was baffled by the technology.

But she was reported to be mortified when she heard the end result.

"Hey wassup!" their message said. "This is Liz. Sorry I'm away from the throne."

"For a hotline to Philip, press one. For Charles, press two," the recording continued. "And for the corgis, press three."

According to The Daily Star, the Queen saw the funny side later when she thought about which VIPs might have heard the message.

But her private secretary was not so amused.

The paper says he almost fell off his chair the first time one of his calls was put through to the voicemail.

The Queen, who is 80, has been taught by Prince William and Prince Harry how to send text messages on her mobile phone.

But she banned servants at the royal palaces from carrying phones on duty, after becoming annoyed at their ring tones.

The ban was reportedly prompted by several mobile phones ringing during a major banquet held for foreign dignitaries.

Our Tax Dollars at Work

2007-03-01T14:15:00.000-08:00

What more could I possibly say.

----------

Arkansas House to argue over apostrophes: Should possessive form be 'Arkansas's' or Arkansas'?

By JON GAMBRELL
Associated Press Writer

LITTLE ROCK — Call it Arkansas' apostrophe act — or, as Rep. Steve Harrelson would have it, "Arkansas's apostrophe act."

Harrelson filed a resolution Tuesday to declare the correct possessive form of the state as "Arkansas's." The resolution carries no legal weight, Harrelson acknowledged, but said a family friend who works as a historian asked him to carry the grammar fight to the floor.

"This is merely a favor," said Harrelson, a Democrat. "He's been asking me to do this for years and years."

Rules on forming the possessive with the Natural State can be confusing. The Associated Press Stylebook calls for singular proper names ending in 's' to solely have an apostrophe. However, Strunk and White's "The Elements of Style" calls for "'s," unless using it with an ancient name.

Harrelson's friend, Parker Westbrook, describes himself as a "longtime practical Arkansas historian" and makes a case for the "'s" based on history. With English, French and Dutch explorers passing through the state, he said the state at different times was "spelled 70 different ways and pronounced 70 different ways" in its early history.

"It is an esoteric subject, yes, but it is amazing how many people don't understand the possessive case," said Westbrook, 81, of Nashville, Ark.

After Arkansas became a state, confusion remained on its spelling and its pronunciation, as many maps from the time spelled it without its final "s." A resolution by the Legislature in 1881 formalized its current spelling and pronunciation, making its final "s" silent.

"What they neglected to do is go one step farther and say what we're saying now," Westbrook said. To give the state a "possessive sound," he said it should be spelled "Arkansas's."

If passed by the House, Harrelson said he'd seek a Senate sponsor for an identical measure there.

The non-binding resolution would not affect Arkansans' use of apostrophes in Illinois, Kansas, Massachusetts or neighboring Texas.

Movie Monday

2007-02-26T18:47:00.001-08:00

I took last week off from blogging, but I'm back! And it's Movie Monday again. So here are some videos of an adorable fifth-grader in New York who can sing like nobody's business! And, he can even write songs. Check it out.

(Here's the one he wrote...)

And if you're further interested, do a YouTube search for PS22 and it will pull up a bunch of amazing videos featuring talented kids and stuff by their 5th-grade chorus. PS22 is just a regular public school in New York...I really love seeing kids start music and the arts when they're young. I hated practicing and taking lessons when I was younger, but now, I'm glad I did!

Celebrity Death Match: Stem vs. L

2007-02-16T13:57:00.000-08:00

OK, look at the above logo, which was featured on the Google home page on Valentine's Day.

Notice something missing? I did. The "L."

Or WAS it missing? I was so ecstatic about finding this apparent error (believe me, this is normal behavior among people who make their living with words) that I called over one of my reporters.

His reaction: "Hahaha, it says 'Googe!'"

We debated for a while why Google would make such a mistake. "Perhaps the stem of the strawberry is supposed to be the L?" we mused. "No, c'mon, that's such a stretch. The stem is all the way up there, and the rest of the word is all the way down here. Plus it's so disproportional compared to the other letters."

I called for a second opinion, my friend who's a reporter at a recently acquired sister paper.

Her reaction: "Hahaha, it says 'Googe!'" She was beside herself. I made the decision to contact Google about this seeming blunder.

Yeah, well, you'd almost have better luck reaching Santa Claus than anyone at Google. First of all, the number listed on their contact page doesn't work. So then I had to Google Google (does that make sense) just to find another contact number. I came up with a handful of press contacts, none of whom I was able to reach.

Finally, and I don't even remember how, I found a number that worked. Except I then had to sit through a 5-minute automated menu because, as the robotic Google voice told me, a live person does not staff the number. "Screw this," I said, and pressed 0. That usually works, right?

Yup, it did (gasp!), I got a live operator. She asked how she could direct my call.

Me: "Um, I'm not sure...your logo today is missing the L."

Operator: "The stem represents the L."

Me: "Oh really. I guess you've had a lot of calls about this already today?"

Operator: "Yes we have. Thank you."

I say...BS! There is no way that stem is supposed to represent the letter L. I think Google just overlooked the error, and then tried to save face when called out on it.

Now, check out this posting on the official Google blog. "True romance and poetry in their soul"? Pshaw. That's a bunch of crap. The fact is, the damn thing says Googe!

We Have a Winner

2007-02-14T18:08:00.000-08:00

Check out this letter to the editor we received today, under the subject line "Global Warming."

ALL I GOT TO SAY IS, WHEN ON EARTH IN THIS CENTURY OF 2007 MOVING ON UP, DO YOU ALL GET SERIOUSE ABOUT BEING SERIOUSE AND PROTECKING MOTHER EARTH AND STOP BEING LIKE ARNOLD A TRUE ACTOR?!?!?!!?!?!?!? IS IT BEFORE I MEET JESUS CHRIST OR AFTER GIVING THAT FACT THAT THE 2 BORDER AGENTS CAN'T EVEN GET THE PROTECTION LIKE HOW YOU ALL DO WITH THE LOCAL POLICE AND UNDERCOVERS WILLING TO PROTECK YOU OWNE FREEDOMS EVERYDAY, WILLY MINE IS GOING SOUTH OF THE BORDER LIKE THE 2 INNOCENT BORDER AGENTS AND LIAR AND COWARD FOR NOT ACCEPTING THE TRUTH CHINESES THAT I AM FORCE TO DEAL WITH JUST LIKE THE ONE STAR SCREAM CINDY CHAVES HAD THAT ILLGALLY TOUCH MY OWN PERSON BODY WITHOUT MY PERMISSION JUST FOR LOOKING AT THE HILLS THAT I LOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

I'll be the first to say...huh?!

All About Me

2007-02-12T12:21:00.000-08:00

A=Available - Not unless a large sum of money is involved.
B=Best friend - Ryan...
C=Cake or Pie- Hmm, tough call. Pie. Pumpkin, apple or peach.
D=Drink- Sparkling water, Diet Coke.
E=Essential item you use everyday- Mouth.
F=Favorite color - Blue.
G=Google your name (first), what comes up- Kimco Realty Corporation.
H=Hometown- Alamo, bastion of all things undiverse...
I-Indulgences- It would be a shorter list to say what ISN'T an indulgence.
J=January or February - January. It has my b-day!
K=Kids- Yes, I know what they are.
L=Life- Is so much better than the alternative.
M=Marriage date- 10/28/07.
N=Number of siblings- 2. 1 younger sis, 1 older bro.
O=Opinion (state one)- Food is good.
P=Phobias or Fears- Some of my friends have weird ones. Most involve clowns.
Q=Quote- "I'm Carol! Can I get a Cosmopolitan in a soup bowl?!"
R=Reason to smile- Unexpected salary bonus?
S=Season- Spring/summer. I hate being cold.
T=Tag 3 or 4 peeps- I have mostly lurkers on blogger, so Lulu.
U=Unknown fact about you- Unknown...hmm. Oh man, I can't believe I'm about to say this, but when I was younger and couldn't sleep, I would pull out a big calculator that plugs into the wall and play with it because I liked the green glow of the numbers.
V=Vegetable you don't like- I'm not a big fan of raw broccoli.
W=Worst habit- Anal retentiveness...
X=Xrays- Mouth/head when I got braces; ankle when I broke it.
Y=Youth (a memory)- My friends and I drew comic strips about teachers we hated.
Z=Zodiac sign- Aquarius.

End of the Week Laugh

2007-02-09T19:46:00.000-08:00

Via yet another e-mail. I present to you...The Female Demerit System.

In the world of romance, one single rule applies: Make the woman happy. Do something she likes and you get points. Do something she dislikes and points are subtracted.You don't get any points for doing something she expects. Sorry, that's the way the game is played. Here is a guide to the point system:

SIMPLE DUTIES

*You make the bed (+1)
*You make the bed, but forget the decorative pillow (0)
*You throw the bedspread over rumpled sheets (-1)
*You go out to buy her what she wants (+5)
*In the rain (+8)
*But returnwith Beer (-5)
*You check out a suspicious noise at night (+1)
*You check out a suspicious noise, and it is nothing (0)
*You check out a suspicious noise and it is something (+5)
*You pummel it with iron rod (+10)
*It's her pet (-20)

SOCIAL ENGAGEMENTS

*You stay by her side the entire party (0)
*You stay by her side for a while, then leave to chat with a collegebuddy (-2)
*Named Tina (-10)
*Tina is a dancer (-20)
*Tina has silicon implants (-80)

HER BIRTHDAY

*You take her out to dinner (+2)
*You take her out to dinner and it's not a sports bar (+3)
*OK, it's a sports bar (-2)
*And it's all-you-can-eat night (-3)
*It's a sports bar, it's all-you-can-eat night, and your face is painted the colors of your favorite team (-10)

A NIGHT OUT

*You take her to a movie (+1)
*You take her to a movie she likes (+3)
*You take her to a movie you hate (+6)
*You take her to a movie you like (-2)
*It's called "Death Cop" (-3)
*You lied and said it was a foreign film about orphans (-15)

YOUR PHYSIQUE

*You develop a noticeable potbelly (-15)
*You develop a noticeable potbelly and exercise to get rid of it (+10)
*You develop a noticeable potbelly and resort to baggy jeans and baggyHawaiian shirts (-30)*You say, "It doesn't matter, you have one too." (-8000)

THE BIG QUESTION

*She asks, "Do I look fat?" (-5) [Yes, you lose points no matter what]
*You hesitate in responding (-10)
*You reply, "Where?" (-35)
*Any other response (-20)

COMMUNICATION

*When she wants to talk about a problem, you listen, displaying what looks like a concerned expression (0)
*You listen, for over 30 minutes (+50)
*You listen for more than 30 minutes without looking at the TV (+500)
*She realizes this is because you have fallen asleep (-4000)

Now Presenting...The Dress!

2007-02-08T16:39:00.000-08:00

Here are some photos of my wedding dress, but I will probably take this post down in a few days, just in case HTB (Hubby To Be) comes lurking. He probably won't, but ya never know. Enjoy!

P.S. Lulu, I still need your address and The Man's full name, for various invitation purposes. Please to e-mail it to me? Thanks!

Get Edjum-icated

2007-02-02T12:29:00.000-08:00

Yet another interesting "history lesson" e-mail I received:

*The next time you are washing your hands and complain because the water temperature isn't just how you like it, think about how things used to be. Here are some facts about the1500s:**

Most people got married in June because they took their yearly bath in May, and still smelled pretty good by June. However, they were starting to smell, so brides carried a bouquet of flowers to hide the body odor. Hence the custom today of **carrying a bouquet** when getting married.

Baths consisted of a big tub filled with hot water. The man of the house had the privilege of the nice clean water, then all the other sons and men, then the women and finally the children. Last of all the babies. By then the water was so dirty you could actually lose someone in it. Hence the saying, **Don't throw the baby out with the bath water.**

Houses had thatched roofs-thick straw-piled high, with no wood underneath. It was the only place for animals to get warm, so all the cats and other small animals (mice, bugs) lived in the roof. When it rained it became slippery and sometimes the animals would slip and fall off the roof. Hence the saying, **It's raining cats and dogs.**

There was nothing to stop things from falling into the house. This posed a real problem in the bedroom where bugs and other droppings could mess up your nice clean bed. Hence, a bed with big posts and a sheet hung over the top afforded some protection. **That's how canopy beds came into existence.**

The floor was dirt. Only the wealthy had something other than dirt. Hence the saying, dirt poor. The wealthy had slate floors that would get slippery in the winter when wet, so they spread thresh (straw) on floor to help keep their footing. As the winter wore on, they added more thresh until, when you opened the door, it would all start slipping outside. A piece of wood was placed in the entranceway. Hence the saying **a thresh hold.**

**(Getting quite an education, aren't you?)**

In those old days, they cooked in the kitchen with a big kettle that always hung over the fire. Every day they lit the fire and added things to the pot. They ate mostly vegetables and did not get much meat. They would eat the stew for dinner, leaving leftovers in the pot to get cold overnight and then start over the next day. Sometimes stew had food in it that had been there for quite a while. Hence the rhyme, **Peas porridge hot, peas porridge cold, peas porridge in the pot nine days old.**

Sometimes they could obtain pork, which made them feel quite special. When visitors came over, they would hang up their bacon to show off. It was a sign of wealth that a man could, bring home the bacon. They would cut off a little to share with guests and would all sit around and **chew the fat**.

Those with money had plates made of pewter. Food with high acid content caused some of the lead to leach onto the food, causing lead poisoning death. This happened most often with tomatoes, so for the next 400 years or so, tomatoes were considered poisonous.

Bread was divided according to status. Workers got the burnt **bottom** of the loaf, the family got the **middle**, and guests got the top, or the **upper crust.**

Lead cups were used to drink ale or whisky. The combination would sometimes knock the imbibers out for a couple of days. Someone walking along the road would take them for dead and prepare them for burial. They were laid out on the kitchen table for a couple of days and the family would gather around and eat and drink and wait and see if they would wake up. Hence the **custom of holding a wake.**

England is old and small and the local folks started running out of places to bury people. So they would dig up coffins and would take the bones to a bone-house, and reuse the grave. When reopening these coffins, 1 out of 25 coffins were found to have scratch marks on the inside and they realized they had been burying people alive. So they would tie a string on the wrist of the corpse, lead it through the coffin and up through the ground and tie it to a bell. Someone would have to sit out in the graveyard all night (the graveyard shift) to listen for the bell; thus, someone could be **saved by the bell** or was considered a **dead ringer.**

**And that's the truth...Now, whoever said history was boring ! ! !**

------------------

And while I've got your brain engaged, try out this puzzle/IQ test:

http://freeweb.siol.net/danej/riverIQGame.swf

Click on the blue circle at the bottom right of the screen. Use the rules below. Apparently this is an IQ test given to job applicants in Japan. (Took me about 20 minutes to figure out, and yes, it can be done.)

"Everybody has to cross the river" The following rules apply:

-Only 2 people on the raft at a time.
-The father cannot stay with any of the daughters without their mother's presence.
-The mother cannot stay with any of the sons without their father's presence.
-The thief (striped shirt) cannot stay with any family member if the policeman is not there.
-Only the father, the mother and the policeman know how to operate the raft.

To move the people, click on them. To move the raft, click on the pole on the opposite side of the river.

An Interesting Friday...

2007-01-30T13:52:00.000-08:00

Apparently, growing up means you have to lose your sense of modesty.

Take Friday, for example. I spent the morning at a routine doctor's appointment and then followed up with trying on wedding dresses, and all told, I was naked in front of no less than three people by day's end. Which is two to three people more than usual. And four more people than I would prefer.

You know how the doctor's thing goes...you sit there and make awkward conversation while you get checked for lumps in various places and they do the "well woman" exam (which I'll leave to your imagination). The doctor's doing her thing while the whole time you're thinking, "I'm freezing!" and "Is it OK to leave my socks on?" and "Hurry up, I'd rather be jabbing my eye with a pencil."

Like I said, modesty has to be put out of your mind as you get older. At the dress shop, I had to stand there in nothing but my skivvies as gown after gown was pulled over my head. Which was not that bad, considering it was fun to try on different dresses, but there's a certain awkwardness in just standing there with no clothes on, trying to hold a conversation and having the lady tell you you're "tiny" in the bust area. Super.

To go off on a tangent: As if I hadn't already experienced enough uncomfortable moments that day, the doctor decided to flush my right ear. She made it sound like a 2-minute process that would be no big deal. OK, I would NEVER recommend getting this, unless you're going Beethoven deaf. Basically, it was 5-7 minutes of having a syringe full of water and peroxide pumped into my ear with the force of a mini firehose. It was super uncomfortable -- didn't hurt, but it was one of the weirdest feelings I've experienced -- and by the end, the whole front of my shirt was wet. I'm not sure I even really needed the flushing, but the doctor wanted to do it to be safe. Egad, just recalling the whole thing makes me cringe.

But back to the issue of modesty: Luckily I was clothed during the flushing process. And at least I did finally find and get a dress. All it cost me was a $20 co-pay and three birthday suits. Sheesh.

Fun stuff

2007-01-23T12:25:00.000-08:00

Not sure how true these are (and I haven't devoted any time to researching them), but interesting nonetheless. Someone forwarded them to me in an e-mail.

-----------------------

In George Washington's days, there were no cameras. One's image was either sculpted or painted. Some paintings of George Washington showed him standing behind a desk with one arm behind his back while others showed both legs and both arms. Prices charged by painters were not based on how many people were to be painted, but by how many limbs were to be painted. Arms and legs are "limbs," therefore painting them would cost the buyer more. Hence the expression: "OK, but it'll cost you an arm and a leg."

As incredible as it sounds, men and women took baths only twice a year (May and October)! Women kept their hair covered, while men shaved their heads (because of lice and bugs) and wore wigs. Wealthy men could afford good wigs made from wool. They couldn't wash the wigs, so to clean them they would carve out a loaf of bread, put the wig in the shell and bake it for 30 minutes. The heat would make the wig big and fluffy, hence the term "big wig." Today we often use the term "here comes the bigwig" because someone appears to be or is powerful and wealthy.

In the late 1700s, many houses consisted of a large room with only one chair. Commonly, a long wide board folded down from the wall and was used for dining. The "head of the household" always sat in the chair while everyone else ate sitting on the floor Occasionally, a guest, who was usually a man, would be invited to sit in this chair during a meal. To sit in the chair meant you were important and in charge. They called the one sitting in the chair the "chair man." Today in business, we use the expression or title "chairman" or "chairman of the board."

Personal hygiene left much room for improvement. As a result, many women and men had developed acne scars by adulthood. The women would spread bee's wax over their facial skin to smooth out their complexions. When they were speaking to each other, if a woman began to stare at another woman's face, she was told, "Mind your own bee's wax." Should the woman smile, the wax would crack, hence the term "crack a smile." In addition, when they sat too close to the fire, the wax would melt . . . therefore, the expression "losing face."

Ladies wore corsets, which would lace up in the front. A proper and dignified woman, as in "straight laced," wore a tightly tied lace.

Common entertainment included playing cards. However, there was a tax levied when purchasing playing cards -- but only applicable to the "Ace of Spades." To avoid paying the tax, people would purchase 51 cards instead. Yet, since most games require 52 cards, these people were thought to be stupid or dumb because they weren't "playing with a full deck."

Early politicians required feedback from the public to determine what the people considered important. Since there were no telephones, TVs or radios, the politicians sent their assistants to local taverns, pubs, and bars. They were told to "go sip some ale" and listen to people's conversations and political concerns. Many assistants were dispatched at different times. "You go sip here" and "you go sip there." The two words "go sip" were eventually combined when referring to the local opinion, and thus we have the term "gossip."

One more: Bet you didn't know this! In the heyday of sailing ships, all war ships and many freighters carried iron cannons. Those cannons fired round iron cannonballs. It was necessary to keep a good supply near the cannon. However, how to prevent them from rolling about the deck? The best storage method devised was a square-based pyramid with one ball on top, resting on four, resting on nine, which rested on 16. Thus, a supply of 30 cannonballs could be stacked in a small area right next to the cannon. There was only one problem . . . how to prevent the bottom layer from sliding or rolling from under the others. The solution was a metal plate called a "monkey," with 16 round indentations. However, if this plate were made of iron, the iron balls would quickly rust to it. The solution to the rusting problem was to make "brass monkeys." Few landlubbers realize that brass contracts much more and much faster than iron when chilled. Consequently, when the temperature dropped too far, the brass indentations would shrink so much that the iron cannonballs would come right off the monkey. Thus, it was quite literally "cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey." (All this time, you thought that was an improper expression, didn't you.)

Spam, Bam, Thank You Ma'am

2007-01-17T11:53:00.000-08:00

As if I need to do any more to convince you that I spend all day fielding calls and e-mails from crazies, here's an e-mail a staffer forwarded me yesterday. And yes, it's spam. But read it! The thing gives me a headache just trying to get through the first sentence.

Dear Editor,
It's My Pleasure to informed about the advert of my little baby Yorkie which is avalaible for Nice Home in to be in your paper so let me know the price to schedule the advert for 4 weeks and also my ad line in Include too for the price to Quotes Me On including the Mailing Address.
=========================================
Text; FEMALE Yorkie Terrier suit for Nice Home She so Nice and playful.She for Only for a Nice Home. contact xxxxx@yahoo.com =========================================
Mailing Address
Name Karen Scott
xxxx Southwest Freeway, Suite 600,
Houston, Texas 77098
=========================================
So i will be waiting to read from you soonest and the Price so that i can be able to proceed with the pre-payment information such as credit card account details..
Thanks And God Bless You.

Movie Monday...

2007-01-15T13:38:00.000-08:00

We've got a news theme goin' on today...

I can't stop laughing about this one!

Here's a related bit...

And this comes out of nowhere! Yep, it was on live TV.

Holy crap!

2007-01-12T12:52:00.000-08:00

What is this world coming to?

And then there's this!

And this!!!!

Am I Hearing Wedding Bells, or Voices?

2007-01-09T13:44:00.000-08:00

Man, Blogger was being weird for a while there.

Anyway, guess what I found out? Planning a wedding is hard work! What I wanna know is...some places list their capacity as (for example) 100 for a standing reception, 50 for seated dining...who the heck is going to have a 4-hour reception where everyone has to stand?! Also, is there anything BUT seated dining? Does one not usually sit whilst eating? I find these conventions odd.

Also, I think I should start a wedding company/venue that features an EASY to navigate Web site, all the info up front, and clear, visible contact information. I hate going to some site that tap dances around all the details. I work and have to spend most of my phone time fielding calls from crazies...I don't have that many spare moments to call someplace and get all the details and sales pitch over the phone, just to determine whether we want to go there to look at the place. We don't have time to peruse 5 million places, either. Just tell me how much, what's included, and what I can customize. It's that simple!

Sigh. I hope I'm not bald by wedding day. Lulu, please to send me your mailing address and The Man's full name. Either gmail or work account is fine. Thanks. :0)

Ooo...veri word = smenita

Fun!

2007-01-05T18:39:00.000-08:00

Dave Barry's right, who needs work when you have this?

Then again, I don't have THIS much time.

Happy weekend!

fvuffrsy

What Kind of Example is This to Our Children??

2007-01-03T16:59:00.000-08:00

This merits very little introduction. Alls ya need to know is it's Tara Reid counting down from 60 to 1 on New Year's Eve.

Goshdarnit, it won't let me embed the video. Here's the link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pkoJR7xOE6Q.

Kitten the Pig

2006-12-29T15:32:00.000-08:00

This here's a tale of my kitten, whose real name is Toulouse but whom I shall call Pig.

'Twas a few nights before Christmas
When all through the house,
There was nothing but scratching
And the jingle of a catnip mouse.
It seemed a few of Pig's claws had fin'ly gone bare,
And we had no more caps; there were none there.
So out we ventured into the cruel, bitter cold
To make a special trip to the closest Petco.
At the cash register we noticed not yule logs,
But what can this be? Breath mints for dogs?
Wait, we said, they have some for cats!
Let's try it, we nodded, they're called Pit'r Pats!
Home we brought them, and each cat got a treat,
Never mind that they smelled oddly like meat.
Skip forward, to 4 in the morn,
I woke up to sounds of metal on floor.
Bleary-eyed, I searched for the noise
Who could it be, but of course Piggy boy!
There lay the Pit'r Pats tin on the ground
Face down and open, not one mint around.
He had eaten them all, the gluttonous pouncer.
That's the last time I leave something up on the counter.

"The Ring"

2006-12-28T23:40:00.000-08:00

Welp, here it is:

An Observation, A Photo, and Some News

2006-12-27T14:10:00.000-08:00

Observation: Why must Starbucks make its hot tea no less than 247 degrees F? Instead of "refreshing hot tea" or whatever they list on their menu board, it should say "scalding hot drink guaranteed to burn all your taste buds off...enjoy!" Don't get me wrong, I like me a nice cup of hot tea every now and then -- especially when I'm sick -- but not when it leaves my mouth in agony. The mouth can be a delicate place...why, Starbucks, why subject it to such torture?! Your tea is cheap, but there's something else it isn't: potable.

-------------

Photo: I have been promising forever to post the dang photo of me in the banana costume, and I keep forgetting. Here it is. In case you can't tell, Ryan is George W. "taking out the trash" (Osama).

--------------

And finally, the news: Drumroll, please....Ryan and I are engaged! He popped the question at the top of a ski run on Christmas Day at Sierra at Tahoe. He got down on his knees in the snow and told me he had one more Christmas present for me. After crying like a little girl into my ski goggles, I of course said yes. No date set yet, but we are looking at September or October 2007. I'll post a pic of the ring when it gets back from being sized. :0)

Hope you all had a good Christmas too!

London Calling?

2006-12-21T18:19:00.000-08:00

Not much to blog about today...I think I'm getting sick, and I'm not keen on having to work another whole DAY before I can enjoy the long weekend, but I thought I'd tell you about yet another winner of a phone call I got today.

Me: (Standard work phone greeting)
Weird Guy: "Yes, I wanted to tell you about my friend. My friend was in the movie 'Terrorists of the Neighborhood,' and one time, I couldn't find my bus pass, and when I found it in my back pocket, I ripped it up. But my friend was in this movie and he told me, 'You wanna know some shit?' and I..."
K: "Uh, is this about a story? Are you calling me with a story?"
WG: "Yes, this is the story of my everyday life. If you wanna know some shit, I'll tell you. But anyway, as it says in Corinthians 14, and Chapter 2, if you know what I'm talking about, is..."
K: (tunes out, wondering what to do with this call and worrying that if crazy guy gets pissed off, he'll come down to the office)
WG: "...so God bless you. I believe anyone who listens to my story is right with God, and that's all I want to say."
K: "OK, thank you."
WG: (click)

When the clerk returned from his lunch break, he said his voicemail was half full of similar messages from the same guy...he was unintelligible, saying something about the ghetto, and war, and who knows what else.

Yep, never a dull day.

Movie Tuesday!

2006-12-19T17:22:00.000-08:00

This is to make up for no Movie Monday yesterday. It took me forever to figure out the blonde guy is Justin Timberlake! OK, I gotta give it to him for having a good sense of humor.

That Darn Cat

2006-12-18T19:42:00.000-08:00

Sadly, people are dying of carbon monoxide poisoning in Washington.

This recalls an odd little tale I'll call "Kim's brush with death, 2004."

It was December, and I had just moved into a rental house in Livermore with my best friend at the time and her 3-year-old son. I broke my ankle moving a mattress, too, but that's neither here nor there. Just remember that I was a cripple at the time. ;)

Anyway, my roommate had been talking about wanting a cat, so I thought it would be a nice present for her and her son for Christmas. I searched high and low for this cat, because I wanted to make sure it would be somewhat compatible with my cat.

So I spent days and days scouring all over the place for the perfect cat. I finally found what I was looking for on craigslist. So I think it was Dec. 24 when I drove out to SSF to pick up the kitty, Rusty. He was pudgy and cute, pretty much what my roommate liked and wanted in a cat. I brought him home and the cats promptly hid from each other.

Well, I think it was that night or maybe 2-3 nights later that Rusty started coming out more and we discovered he really likes to meow. And by really likes to meow, I mean he would MARRY meowing if it were another cat. He liked to meow more than Britney Spears likes not wearing underwear. Y'catch my drift. So this constant dangnabbed meowing would keep us up at night.

Meanwhile, the heater was on the fritz. The freaking thing had been installed in 1978, when the house was built, and was never replaced since. The pilot light kept going out, and my friend's boyfriend would relight it to make the heater work for a little while. My friend called PG&E to come look at it, but they couldn't come right away. They told us we just had to wait a few days...or weeks, I don't remember which, either way it didn't really help us out and it was freezing because we had hardwood floors...but we had to deal with it.

So anyway, that 2-3 nights later, Rusty's constant meowing kept waking us up every couple hours. It was so frustrating because we were already cold, and I also kept waking up feeling mysteriously nauseous. We were getting mad at the cat because he wouldn't shut up, and it just wasn't a fun night all around.

Finally, the next day, PG&E agreed to come out and look at the heater, because we had a little kid in the house and told them we couldn't risk him getting sick from being cold. Well guess what? The idiot heater had apparently been spewing some form of carbon monoxide (started with an "a," I don't remember the exact name) into the house the night before. The heater was red-tagged and the landlords had to put in a new one (which took frustratingly long, but that's not really relevant to the story). What saved us was...the darn cat! Seriously, if the cat had not been waking us up every few hours, we would have stayed asleep and began to deeply breath in all the bad stuff, doing a lot of damage.

I ended up giving Rusty to my ex-boyfriend, and yes, he still meows a ton (Rusty, not the ex. The ex whines, but I don't know that it's a form of meowing. Maybe.). Weird how things like that work out, huh? So thanks, Rusty, for saving us!

Oh Please!

2006-12-15T15:37:00.000-08:00

Now, I am not a huge Rosie O'Donnell fan. Not for any specific reason...I just don't think about her that much. But people are making too huge of a deal over this. Seriously...she's a comedienne. Not that that pardons her from making offensive statements, but I just don't find this to be offensive. Jeesh!

Headline of the Year: "You Kiss Prince Eric With That Mouth?"

2006-12-14T16:44:00.000-08:00

First, check out this story.

I have to say, I was curious. So forgive me when I got all hyper yesterday upon learning that a co-worker in another office had purchased the doll. Through the magic of speakerphone, I listened while she mashed the button. At first all I heard was a tinny, high-pitched, somewhat distant "wa-wa-wa-WAAAAA..." But after a few times, I could indeed make out a faint "You're a sluuuuuut!" If someone hadn't told me the word was "slut," however, I might not have guessed on my own. Regardless, I find it hilarious. Oh Ariel, you poor unfortunate soul.

*BTW, our headline was: "Mermaid's mouth more like sailor's"

So Long, and Thanks For All the Fish

2006-12-14T13:34:00.000-08:00

I present to you the next Crocodile Hunter....Dr. Mongolian!

*Bonus points if someone can name the source of this blog title. No Googling allowed!

Scientifically Speaking

2006-12-13T19:18:00.000-08:00

A weird and somewhat philosophical thought randomly came to mind the other night as I was standing on the risers singing at a chorus concert. It suddenly hit me that science is manmade. Just like time is manmade, and the definitions for everything we know are manmade. (I'm sure my choir director would love to know how my mind wanders during performance, of all things. Yeesh.) Yet, science purports to be the answer to all things we don't know. Where does cancer come from? Well, we don't know...but SCIENCE is working to figure it out. People who don't believe in God tend to side with science. Yet, we made up the concept of science. So how is it any better to believe in that? And I guess the peripheral thought is, if we can't physically prove God exists, and we base our world on science but science was created by us, then technically no one belief is any better than the other. There's so much more to this, but I'll stop here to let you mull it over. Less is more, as they say in the journalistic world.

*No kidding, my word verification is smokr. Wootka!

Noooooo!

2006-12-11T18:15:00.000-08:00

I called him first!

Just Have to Share

2006-12-08T12:18:00.000-08:00

This is amazing!

Diary of a Mad Black Goat

2006-12-07T15:59:00.000-08:00

I wonder where the phrase "got my goat" came from. As in, "you know what really gets my goat? Taxes!"

Is there a random goat somewhere that keeps disappearing? If so, who takes it, and where does it go? And why did you have the goat in the first place? Obviously not a very good caretaker, because if you had been watching it, no one would've gotten your goat. Now you are a goatless, irresponsible loser who smells like barn funk. And nobody likes a goatless, irresponsible loser. Sometimes we can deal with the barn funk.

Goat, if you're out there, I'd like to know how you feel about this. That's my job as as journalist, to ask "how does it make you FEEL?" And then I stand there while your lip quivers and you sob out the tragic story of how you were abused as a kid and bullied by the farm pigs, and now you are forced to live a life of walking around in public with some idiot who gets mad about things like taxes, and then all of sudden you *poof* into the netherworld of got-goatliness, where other confused, abused goats swirl around in the surreal ether of Out There, bleating in solemn despair, and how you'd give your left horn for the farm-pig-bullyin' days, when you could at least rely on one thing: getting your ass kicked. (Poor donkey, I heard he drowned on a raft from Cuba a few years back. Truly sorry, man.) I am here to serve, Goat. Tell me your story. Let it out.

And now a little friendly advice to all of you out there who regularly get your goat gotten: Stop it. No. Baaaaaaad. (I'm rubbing your nose in goat right now.)

Hug and kiss your barnyard pal today. Redeem thyselves.

Ugh

2006-12-05T15:55:00.000-08:00

Don't you hate it when you're, like, in...oh, say Longs...and you're standing behind a troll lady who's buying Vagisil? Effing VAGISIL?!!! It's enough to make me puke, put my Reese's Big Cup back on the shelf, puke, and then leave. And then puke outside. And THEN, the puddle of puke would get up and puke on itself.

Dude. A troll lady. ::shudder:: I don't wanna think about her having a hoo-hoo, and then that hoo-hoo having problems. She's a freaking forest queen. She resides under bridges! Vagisil. OMG. And she had hairy ears.

Happy holidays.

Update: Here you go, Cyn.

Movie Monday

2006-12-04T19:11:00.000-08:00

We're taking it mellow today here at The Rant Farm. Here's a nice photo montage someone made on YouTube set to one of my favorite songs, "10,000 Miles" by Mary Chapin Carpenter (also one of my favorite singer/songwriters).

And while we're on the topic of music, I'm also posting another of my favorite songs ("Everlong") by, you guessed it, another favorite singer/songwriter, Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters. The acoustic version kicks the original's arse.

Breaking the 'Laws'

2006-11-30T17:28:00.000-08:00

A disturbing thought came to me the other day. (As if any other kind comes to me, right?) But anyway, it has to do with the concept of in-laws.

When you get married, your husband's parents become your in-laws, right? You are encouraged to call them "mom" and "dad," and hubby's siblings also become YOUR de facto siblings. You treat your husband's family as if they're your family, and vice versa.

That is so messed up, because essentially you are becoming your husband's sister. No, seriously...hey, where are you going? Come back here and hear this out! I'm serious. Where did this practice come from? Why is it socially acceptable to become your MIL's and FIL's next child, thereby making you somehow related to other people in their family in ways that were popularized only in the South? (Us having more teeth, however, and wearing actual shirts with overalls.)

Am I the only one who has thought about this? I mean, of course I will someday also have in-laws and carry on this odd tradition, because that's just how things are done, but I really want to know where and how this originated. No kidding, I'm going to look it up. I hope I don't find out some freaky thing, like we're all related or something. That is another creepy thought in itself. Because I really don't want to think about how that involves people like Richard Simmons.

Word.

The Visitor

2006-11-28T15:51:00.000-08:00

Homeless Lady who has been sleeping out back just walked in and told our receptionist that her family has been living on an island on Alpha Centauri in the Andromeda galaxy, and she doesn't know what they're doing for money or food.

Mustang Roundup

2006-11-24T18:03:00.000-08:00

I started this off as "Quickie" on Friday, but I'm back now to make it a full-fledged blog entry.

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A lot can happen in 10 years. People get married, divorced, have kids. Countries go to war, governments change hands, economies fluctuate wildly. Technology advances, body parts get replaced by plastic and metal. New discoveries are made. But perhaps the biggest thing about 10 years going by is that it's possible for nothing to change at all.

And that pretty much sums up my high school reunion. The popular kids were still the popular kids. The smart kids still the smart kids and the party kids still the party kids. People fell into their regular old groups, and it was an interesting phenomenon to observe. Not that it was bad or anything...just amusing.

Some people were so drunk that they probably won't remember they were there. The food was lacking and there was a closed bar, but the venue was nice if a little small for our event. The DJs played cheesy music that wasn't really 1996-specific as it was late-'80s-specific, but who cares of you're jammin' with a glass of Cutty Sark that's probably been behind the counter since they actually SOLD Cutty Sark on this side of the country? Overall, it was really just being able to talk to people that made it worthwhile.

One classmate just bought a $1 million home. Another is on his way to a PhD. and yet another has five children. Careers spanned from former boxing promoter to People magazine correspondent to Iron Man athlete. When people asked me what I do and I said I'm a newspaper editor, most said, "Of course! You were always a good writer!"

Which is weird, because I don't remember writing being one of my public focal points in high school. I mean, I could ace English papers and the like, but I didn't go around telling everyone. I always thought people would remember me as a music geek more than a wordsmith.

But who knows. I've been known to "forget" things sometimes. :0) I would say I have changed though. Much more outgoing. Much more perspective on life. I think I had to grow into myself because I was secretly very sensitive when I was younger, but was surrounded by thicker-skinned and confident-to-the-point-of-cocky people.

I went to a high school that prided itself on its...shall we say money? The school is in a well-to-do town, where many people's parents work in Silicon Valley and own six-bedroom homes built within the past 10 years. However, my parents came to the area in the '70s, when property was quite a bit cheaper, so we didn't need to have tons of money to be there. Consequently, I was not one of the "rich" kids. We weren't poor, but neither did a I get a brand-new SUV on my 16th birthday. Yadadamean?

So, anyway, neither was I the most popular kid in school. Or even slightly popular. I was heavy and a big chorus geek who enjoyed foreign languages. I read voraciously, kept up pretty good grades (lettered in academics my senior year), mostly stayed out of trouble and no, did not go to prom or senior ball. Had some friends and a boy who made life a little miserable for a while, but hey, who didn't have an experience like that in HS? That's what makes it HS.

I was friends with a few cheerleaders, we didn't hang out but always cracked jokes in class, and I was known for my biting sarcasm (which obviously has not abated one iota). I fudged some grades for my friends when I was a French T.A. and yes, occasionally sought "help" on my physics tests (before I dropped physics altoghether...yuck!). I worked weekends at the movie theater and sometimes let my friends in free. I climbed up the ladder at the theater from concessionist/usher to projectionist, assistant manager trainee and assistant manager. That's were I met boy #2.

After graduating HS, I went to junior college thinking I wanted some sort of career in music. OK, I'll be honest, I wanted to be a concert pianist, even though I hated practicing/memorizing and had horrible stage fright. Chalk it up to another pie-in-the-sky Aquarian ideal. But even Aquarians have to get real now and then, so my second year of JC I took an interest in journalism and ended up on the school paper, where I was the features and news editor for two semesters and the editor in chief for a year.

Won some awards, worked full-time, basically lived the boring and mostly tame life of your typical over-achiever. Boy #2 was always getting in trouble and needing me to bail him out of or help fix bad situations, but I always thought that's just the way things are in relationships...they are work and not always easy, right? So I just plodded on, doing my thing, trying to do my best.

I dropped about 60 pounds my first year of college (I've gained back about 10-15) and kept my nose to the grindstone. I wasn't interested in drinking or partying. I always thought that it was because I just didn't feel like ruining my life. And then when I thought about it some more this weekend, I concluded it was because of this:

When you're not popular, you don't have crazy expectations put on you by other people. You know that when you leave high school, life is going to be different, but you're pretty ready for it because you're already living a down-to-earth life. Some people leave the "bubble" of high school, and all of a sudden they're just another face in the crowd, not the homecoming king or the star cheerleader that everyone knows and loves. And the bursting of this bubble can be pretty harsh, because all they've ever known is "the good life." They don't know disappointment and obscurity. I guess what I'm saying is, I've always known what to expect from the world, and haven't needed anything to help me escape it.

Anyway, after three years in JC (I took an extra year to spread out some of the work because I was overloading myself), I transferred to a four-year college, worked as the editor in chief of the university publication, earned my BA in journalism and went on to the chain of newspapers where I now work. Boy #2 finally severed my last nerve over two years ago and I gladly rid my life of him. I met Ryan, the perfect person for me, and was finally surprised to learn what a real relationship is supposed to feel like. I've never had someone save all of my e-mails before. :0)

It will be interesting to see everyone again in another 10 years. That, I feel, is when the true test of time will manifest. We will all be close to 40! And doing who knows what. Now THAT will be creepy. But I can take it.

*BTW, if you're wondering about the title of this blog, our mascot was the Mustangs.

Odds 'n' Ends

2006-11-22T14:06:00.000-08:00

First of all, I have to put this out there: Can you pass the third grade?

A friend sent this to me (coincidentally, she's a lurker of this blog...hi Mo!), and I have to say it made quite a splash in both my and the CC Times newsrooms. My CCT friends were e-mailing me saying, "Thanks a lot, the whole newsroom has been playing this game for the past few hours."

Hours? Well, I guess that means not many people were passing. Hey, I have to admit that it took about 10 attempts using trial and error to get to a point where I finally passed. NOW I can pass it every time. But a few days ago? Pssh. Where the hell is Missouri.

Complaints: Why the freak can't Delaware and Maryland be one state? Why can't Maine just engulf N.H. and Vermont? How scary is it that I had NO idea where Iowa really was? How many people ever even THINK about Iowa? I know it comes to my mind about, oh, say, once every six months. It's just not a memorable state. Sorry if I've offended any Iowans out there. Wait, you have Internet in Iowa?!

Heh heh. Well, go on. See if you pass. If not, I'm sure you'll have lots of company on the short bus. And Mo, if the East Bay news industry was remiss in reporting anything yesterday, it's your fault. ;0)

-------------------

I was musing the other day in the shower (because apparently I am given to pondering such things while performing routine, mindless tasks such as showering) on how the words "parting" and "departing" are virtually the same thing. I usually think of the "de-" prefix as being the opposite (negative) of something, such as "detract" and "attract." But here we have "part," which basically means to separate, and "depart," which means to leave. If you de-separate (de-part) something, it becomes a double negative! Essentially, de-separating would mean "putting back together." So how do we arrived at "departing" meaning to leave? I don't get it. Maybe I should've rinsed and repeated on it.

-------------------

So I discovered a new nervous habit last night. I already know that when I sing in front of audiences with my chorus, I have a reallllly hard time maintaining the "performance smile." Y'know, that fake smile you have to keep pasted on for like an hour and a half so that it's not boring to watch a group of people just stand there and sing. The fake smile tends to make my lips sort of twitch when I'm nervous, which I feel like everyone can see! Anyway, I also have a habit of getting a little weak-kneed when nervous, and having to pee. But guess what, that's right everyone, last night marked the appearance of PITS. Which I will henceforth call PITS!!!.

PITS!!! showed up last night when the small group I've been singing with had to get up and run through our song in front of the other 130 people in chorus. It was fine...we nailed it and sounded good, but dammit, I don't know if it was the shirt I was wearing or what, PITS!!! arrived with almost a sort of fanfare. "Ta-da! Kim is nervous! Mwahaha!" I had to keep reminding myself not to lift up my arms. Damn you, PITS!!!, damn you!

Speaking of which, oh yeah, I'm singing with a small group. It's called Special Blend. There are five of us, and the group is usually a special guest at our chorus concerts. It also usually schedules other gigs, but they had to be canceled when a member suddenly dropped out recently (thus my addition to the group).

Anyway, PITS!!! WTF? I'm really not a big fan. Maybe it was the shirt. Gah, I hope that doesn't happen with my choir dress on. It's uncomfortable enough as it is.

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Well, happy T-giving, all. Eat well, and pass the yams. BTW, I really like the word "yam." Especially if you whine out the first part of it. Yyyyyyammm. Heh.

Movie Mondayyyy

2006-11-20T18:21:00.000-08:00

In tribute to my new hero*, Tina Fey.

*Here's why: www.usmagazine.com/node/3875

Who Are You Kidding?

2006-11-16T12:25:00.000-08:00

Wow, I am dumbfounded. Never would I expect this to come from craigslist! Although, how naive can I be? Obviously there are people who want to take advantage of you all over the place. Anyway, on Monday I posted an ad on craigslist for a wooden table with 4 chairs that I'm trying to sell. (Gotta make property tax, y'know.) The first guy to e-mail me about it asked if it was still available and in good condition. I responded yes. Then, yesterday I got this from him:

Sorry I took time to reply. My grandpa would be going through Chemothrapy in the next few days so I would'nt be able to come see the items because I have to stay with him for a couple of weeks and moreso he lives in Alaska.

I intend pay you with certified checks and I'll be sending a mover to come pick the item. I'd appreciate if you can do me the favour of sending the moving funds to the mover as soon as the check clears.

The mover would only come get the items after you have cashed your payment and sent the shippers funds. I would need your physical address to send the certified check. Thanks for your anticipated understanding.
Mark Legend.

YEAH....RIGHT. My initial reaction was, "Wait, what? That's so complicated. I don't get it." Then I read it again, and one word popped into my head: Nigeria. Yes, this totally sounds like one of those Nigerian scams! Luckily, I've read a lot about them on Web sites where people scam the scammer using some hilariously intricate plot. So I forwarded the e-mail to Ryan, and he agreed: Definitely sounds Nigerian. And then I read it again and noticed he spelled "favor" with a "u," and some other words were missing, making it look and sound like foreign and choppy English.

In talking about it with Ryan last night, I learned the way this type of scam works. Dude sends me the certified checks. But they're fake. Me, thinking they're real, take them to the bank and deposit them. Meanwhile, if I'm dumb, I trust that they'll clear and send off the money for the "movers." With my money now gone, I find out at some point that the checks bounced. Voila...dude makes his money and I get fleeced.

I have entertained the thought of trying to scam this scammer, but I think it's best if I just don't answer him at all. Or maybe I should answer and say, "But I'm a 12-year-old paraplegic with cancer!" Then again, I kind of doubt Nigerian scammers feel guilt. I hope his computer gets a nasty virus. Or maybe his nether-region will fall into a wood chipper.

Diff'rent Strokes for Diff'rent Folks

2006-11-15T17:49:00.000-08:00

I know I am not a normal person.

I'm not a typical girl, or even perhaps a typical human. But most of the time, I am OK with that. I know that it's weird to:

-Wear a banana costume to a party when most of the other girls are dressed all "sexy." I happen to think being a banana is funny. Perhaps I enjoy amusing myself more than others...?
-Obsessively need to make the bed every morning. I feel like if I leave the bed "messy," it will make the rest of my day feel "messy." Nor do I want to come home to the sight of an unmade bed, which I find to be very uninviting. Call it prissy, call it OCD...I just call it a quirk.
-"Survey" the drivers on the freeway by looking to see how people hold the steering wheel (10-and-2? one hand at 12 o'clock? no hands visible?), and then try to break it down by demographic. (Most Asian drivers over 30 do the 10-and-2.)
-Like shooting guns, riding motorcycles, building things, fixing things, cleaning and crossing things off lists. It's like tomboy meets Mrs. Clean. Chaos meets order. Adventure meets domestication. Matter and anti-matter?
-Enjoy science fiction and comic books.
-Have people honk at my butt when I'm walking down the street. I hate it!
-Be generally inept at graciously accepting compliments. You: "Oh, you look nice today." Me: "Really? I got this for like $12 at Target."
-Not really care if the yogurt or milk is a couple days past date. Does it smell OK? Alrighty then.
-Think things out better than I can write them down. I swear, if you could be in my head, you'd be enjoying the Great American Novel. Out here, it's more like Kerouac.
-Laugh realllly loud at things I find funny. Or blurt out things louder than I should (or at all).

And so much more. What I'm saying is, I'm aware that I don't fit the mold of women who are almost 30. Is that really so weird? I enjoy being different. And I'm not sure I could change that anyway, even if I wanted to.

However, I do admit that my obsession with ice cream is perhaps unforgiveably bizarre. Oooh, and gelato! Don't even get me started. Seriously.

Movie Monday is back!

2006-11-13T12:13:00.000-08:00

Hee hee.

Trapped

2006-11-10T17:02:00.000-08:00

Sigh. Sometimes I just really feel like screaming. This doesn't directly affect my job, but when you have to sit on the sidelines and watch your company basically experiment with cost-cutting measures....it's really, I don't know, embarrassing? Frustrating? Annoying?

East Bay Express blog

You Know You've Missed the Calls

2006-11-09T12:27:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I've blogged on a good (and by good I mean WEIRD) call at work. However, there's this lady named Aida who calls and e-mails me ALL the time, and it just so happens that I'm never around when the phone rings. I suspect this is because she calls my voicemail at 6 a.m. But anyway. Her e-mails and calls are SO stream of consciousness that they don't make any sense whatsoever...her e-mails read like those spams full of unrelated words, and her phone calls are always in a calm tone of voice, slightly accented, but just as scattered as the e-mails. Anyway, here's her latest message, left yesterday.

"Good morning, um, this is Aida (deleted), daily extra extra and review, 510-(deleted). Um, my thoughts, election, divided politics, welcome, bienvenido, viva...George...the Third...bienvenido, your home state, independent (unintelligible word) and that is a little place called King's Landing. There are no winners and there are no losers, just to keep divided politics alive here, in a little place called King's Landing, and that is the school spirit, independent studies, Fordham University, UST and...the rest of the world. But welcome, to a little place called King's Landing. Viva George the Third. Welcome to your home state, the great man, (unintelligible word) man, independent, Republican, Democrat, the school spirit lives on. Divided politics live on in this little place called King's Landing. And I am an author, Quest (unintelligible word) Quest in Eagle's Nest, and that is to see, to see...a man on fire in the sunset, and that is Don Nelson, that is, that is Chris Mullen's pick of the season. (Unintelligible word.) I am older than Don Nelson and I'm still playing tennis, and to see the royal coach behind all this...that is my father, MY father Octagon Camariniso. Divided politics live on and so does... (message cuts off)

I forgot to mention that usually when Aida calls, she relates me to "Flora Santos at the University of Santo Tomas." I have no idea who that is or why she always says, "I'm sure you know her." As if there aren't 6 million other Santoses on the globe. And she always calls us "daily extra extra and review." Hilarious. Honestly, I think she flips through the paper while she writes and calls, and just says the first thing that comes to mind on each page. That would explain the sports references towards the end.

Anywho, I'm still recovering from yesterday. Sleep and coffee are awesome. Yah!

Ridonculous

2006-11-08T17:40:00.000-08:00

My eyes are burning.

So far, this has been the week from hell. Monday I worked overtime because in a fit of frustration over the lack of organization among other editors, I volunteered to compile the tally box that all our papers would share. If you don't know what a tally box is, it's that extremely annoying little feature papers run the day after the election showing who got how many votes in what race. Contrary to what you may think, it's not as simple as plugging in numbers and names. I had to compile the behemoth a day ahead and work with a designer to make sure it flowed on the page without errors. Then I had to enter the total number of precincts in each race -- IF I could find them. Of course, I was also in charge of our local tally box, which involves much gnashing of teeth, hair pulling and nitpicky changes usually around midnight on election night. All put together, I was in tally box purgatory.

Yesterday I worked from 2:30p to 1a, with most of the work crammed between 9 and 12:30. In that space of time, reporters were taking their stories they had prewritten during the day and topping them off with results, quotes, some color from parties and an early direction of where the race was headed. We edited them, then I had to basically overhaul every story for our Web site...which entails recasting the lead sentences, changing everything to present tense, making sure all the "Tuesday"s said "today" or "tonight," softening some of the declarative statements that would work the next morning but not the same night, etc. Tedious. We did, however, get free pizza. Whoo-ee.

I fell asleep at 2a and woke up with Ryan's alarm at 7. Got ready for work and hauled my butt back in at 8 to re-recast all the stories for the Web site with semi-final results. Then I had to start budgeting the paper for tomorrow, sat in on a conference call, gave a few directions on a breaking story, then started to head out the door because I'm working a split shift today and hoped to go home for a nap.

But no. Just before I left, my mom called PLEADING with me to come look at her computer because my sister has homework to do and would be so mad if she came home and the comp. wasn't working. Sigh. So I then hauled out to Danville, where I determined said computer was CHOCK FULL OF VIRUSES. Excellent.

Turns out Target doesn't carry anti-virus software. Funny that. So I next ended up out in Dublin, purchasing above-mentioned software at Best Buy. But it can't be easy, no. Lest I run out of gas, I needed to stop and refuel the car, too. And despite having to wait in a long and irritating gas line at Safeway, the highlight of my day was getting to use my 10-cents off per gallon Club Card reward. Gas at $2.19 a gallon...woohoo!

Back to mom's and installed McAfee, which was still scanning when I left and had so far detected 43 "questionable" items. Forty-friggin-three. Heavy sigh. I'm so tired right now I feel like my eyes are little slits in my head. At least Mom paid for my gas. And gave me broccoli curry. :0) But dude, all that took up the 3 1/2 hours I was hoping to use for catching up on sleep.

Yeah, so I'm whiny. You would be too!

two more hours of work...i hate elections...brain dead

Too Freaking Funny!

2006-11-08T10:17:00.000-08:00

Joke my ass.

Evanescence Concert Review

2006-10-31T15:45:00.000-08:00

It's safe to say that the Foo Fighters now serve as a benchmark of excellence every time I see a big-name band in concert. I can't help it -- after seeing FF live twice in one year, and being blown away both times by the music and Dave Grohl's ease in chatting up the audience, the Foos are on a pedestal that rarely gets touched.

Oh, but Evanescence comes close. Performing at the Warfield on Sunday, the goth-pop/goth-lite band drew a sell-out crowd that was almost too much for the small-ish San Francisco venue. It was as if the atmosphere was hopped up on Red Bull and Pixie Stix. Regardless, we patiently sat through forgettable opening band Revelation Theory, who closed out their tour with Evanescence in SF, and eagerly awaited the first utterings of Amy Lee's unmatched, crystalline voice.

In all her tartan-skirted glory, Lee belted out favorites from the band's debut album "Fallen," including "My Immortal," "Whisper" and "Going Under," and hits from their most recent album "The Open Door," most notably featuring "Lithium" and "Call Me When You're Sober."

At one point, Lee sat alone at her piano, flowing through "Good Enough."

"Good enough, Am I good enough?" she sang.

"Yes, you are!" someone shouted. Amen, brotha, amen.

The thing about Amy Lee is that she makes it look so easy. She never seems to be straining to reach a note, or contorting herself in odd positions to get a phrase out. She simply stands there, sometimes slightly bending forward, and out comes that voice. Meanwhile, the stage is erupting around her in metal-like guitar riffs and seizure-inducing lights, drummer Rocky Gray making good use of his extensive set of skins and cymbals.

You just can't help singing along at an Evanescence concert. You can't help but get wrapped up in the music's energy and familiar hooks. You can't help but admire Lee's songwriting, piano and voice talents. It's nice to see a real rocker chick have such success. The concert is worth every penny because Evanescence sounds exactly like its CDs. Which is more than can be said about lots of popular rock bands out there.

Plus, one should note that the diversity of the audience is also pretty entertaining. From 40-year-old parents down to gothed-out tweens in capes, the Warfield was a mini-Halloween party in itself. Not to mention the number of people who think they can dance (but can't) is proportionately higher than one would expect. Huzzah, amusement all around.

If there are any suggestions for improvement -- after all, we're chasing the FF pedestal here -- it's that Lee should spend a little more time talking to the fans. It personalizes the concert, and lends a little more insight to the talented woman onstage. She also should introduce the band members, since she usually draws most of the attention.

Overall, Evanescence is headed down a long path to success, with enough draw already relatively early in its career to sell out venues and earn popular-radio airplay. And with the announcement that they'll be on tour again next year, one need not wait long to let Evanescence pierce your musical soul.

Movie Monday...

2006-10-30T17:47:00.000-08:00

What is it that is so funny about people hurting themselves?!

Barfy Week

2006-10-25T16:08:00.000-07:00

This week has been jam-packed and just....barfy. Yesterday my boss called in sick, so I manned the ship alone while news broke right and left, and we only have 4 reporters this week. Not to mention I had a headache that lasted all day, all through chorus, and all the way up until I went to bed. I had to wait in a long-ass line at the post office to pick up a package yesterday, and I hate going there.

Today I came in and there were only two people in the newsroom: my boss, and the clerk. There was a press release on the fax about a press conference at 11 a.m. (20 minutes from when I picked up the fax) at the sheriff's office, and being that there wasn't anyone around to cover, I got to play reporter today.

So I went to the sheriff's office and listened to the KTVU and KGO reporter kibbitz about how their stations have to share a helicopter on some occasions, and WHY was that, and how can such an agreement be made, etc. Then we had the presser, which was on a cold-hit rape case, and I came back to the office and wrote up the quick-and-dirty for the Web site. After that I spent another hour fleshing out the real story, then assigned the night cops person to attend the court arraignment. That took me up to 1:30, when I finally got to have lunch!

Oh yeah, did I mention I have cramps today? Yup. Perfect. They actually woke me up at 6 a.m.

Well, that's it. Just thought I'd stop by and bitch today. Tada!

Movie Monday 4

2006-10-23T15:50:00.000-07:00

I know this is a little long, but watch it to the end...some of the funnier parts happen later in the video.

From one of my favorite shows...

A Message From Helmut

2006-10-17T16:11:00.000-07:00

I just love combing through my spam account at work. Newspapers get, like, 12 times more spam than the average bear. So we each have a spam account at work that weeds it all out for us. Unfortunately, sometimes it weeds out something important, so we have to check it periodically.

Found this gem today:

Date: Tue, 17 Oct 2006 12:10:01 +0300
From: "Helmut"
To: "Daniel"
Subject: We are seeking for employers

Hello,

We are seeking for full-time and part-time employers.
Currently there is one position opened - Finance Manager.

Requirements:
- 21 years old
- Must have at least one bank account
- Must have mobile phone for full contact

No special skills required.
To appply please check our website and fill in application form and
we'll contact you providing you all details to start your job
immediately.
As for us we promise highly paid position and company-friendly
atmosphere.

Website - www.clarksa.net

---------

Whew! Let's break this one down.

Task 1: Check out Web site. Yes, it's professional-looking. It employs conversational (and correct) English. The impression it gives is definitely not "cardboard box in India."

However, let's read our little spam a little more closely, shall we?

"We are seeking for full-time and part-time employers.
Currently there is one position opened - Finance Manager."

I believe you mean employEES, dear Helmut. If you want someone to work for you, that's probably the most important thing right there. There's a big difference between employERS and employEES, and if you say the wrong one, you've just weeded out half of your target audience. Not only that, but now you have the WRONG target audience. Also, "seeking for" is redudant. If you're seeking something, you're automatically looking FOR it. But we'll just pretend you majored in con artistry, not English, hm?

"Requirements:
- 21 years old
- Must have at least one bank account
- Must have mobile phone for full contact"

Wow, at least 21, huh? Finance manager at Clark S.A. Hmm. Must have at least one bank account? Why? Do you need it for the ol' Nigerian "wire money" trick? Something sounds fishy here...not that it didn't to begin with, mind you. Why dost thou toy with me so, Helmut?! Er, I should say, why dost thou toy with "Daniel" so, Helmut?!

"No special skills required.
To appply please check our website and fill in application form and
we'll contact you providing you all details to start your job
immediately."

Yeah, NSS (no shit, Sherlock) that special skills aren't necessary...you're advertising the job over mass e-mail and the minimum age limit is 21, with a bank account. As they say in Germany, Helmut, "duh." Also, "apply" has just two p's in it. And if all it takes is filling out an online application to receive details for starting the job, I am VERY interested in seeing who applies. Lastly, please learn about the words a, an and the. Then, insert them in the appropriate places. (We'll ignore the double entendre there.)

Poor Helmut. Don't you realize spams like yours are completely transparent?

The scary thing is, some people actually fall for them. Gullible, unite!

Movie Monday 3

2006-10-16T16:36:00.000-07:00

Ah, nostalgia.

And if you like that, here are a few related items:
www.youtube.com/watch?v=NGCtijHuTjo
www.youtube.com/watch?v=5UlWeqVVxso
www.youtube.com/watch?v=YyT5WN8yEBA

Tips For Running For Local Office

2006-10-13T18:22:00.000-07:00

1. Try to be under 80 years old. If you're over 80, you're going to be cranky and uncooperative, and we don't like this. Especially when -- again, because you're old and cranky -- you start throwing a fit about having your age printed and take it upon yourself to harass poor people who work at the newspaper. Save us all the heartache -- join a quilting club instead.

2. Try to be coherent. Seriously...you're running for public office. If you call me up complaining about how your opponent did such-and-such and then you suddenly veer waaaaay off topic and start talking about Kansas, I'm. Going. To. Hang. Up. On. You.

3. Only one office at a time, please. Everyone knows you're a hack if you sign up for, like, four different races. Yeah right...you're 80, incoherent and you want us to think you can hold four offices? Pssh. Ha.

4. Similar to number 1, don't be under 25. No one will take you seriously. If you're 18 and you're running for mayor because you want to build more skate parks, beeeeep. Next please!

5. Your platform is curbing wasteful spending. Well that's great...until you admit you're not really expecting to win, and you're not raising any money for your campaign. How is throwing away tax dollars and the money spent on employees at the registrar's office putting your name on the ballot, etc., CURBING WASTEFUL SPENDING? It's not. In fact, you're defeating your own point. Idiot.

6. Write down what you want to say BEFORE you call me. This will keep you on topic. Why? Because I generally shoot down all your complaints when they're dumb and unsupported, and then you begin flailing around for...something, anything...that will keep me on the phone talking to you for another 20 minutes. I don't like this game. I will make it known. Repeatedly.

7. C'mon, people, IQs over 100 please. Be serious.

No Salvation For Me

2006-10-12T13:24:00.000-07:00

Ah, such an interesting town I work in.

I decided to check out the Salvation Army today. Heck, it's in the same parking lot as my work, and I found a nice skirt and jacket there not too long ago for a combined $12. It's not beneath me to go to a thrift store...I'm just choosy once I get there. Notice that I'm trying to justify myself here...

But, and I don't want to sound like a snob or anything, I always have to talk myself into going in there. Why? Could it be the obese woman in a wheelchair who smelled like pee and was sitting just inside the door? Or the woman who was sitting on one of the couches having a very involved conversation with.... ? An imaginary friend? No one was there. But she had such conviction while talking to this phantom. At one point she even put her hand next to her mouth and whispered something to it/him/her. Ah, I love the smell of schizophrenia in the morning.

Also, there is the most RANDOM crap there. Who the heck wants a blender that looks like it was never washed? Or an alarm clock from 1971 that only has three of its buttons left. Or a George Foreman grill that looks like it was partying with the blender. OR a T-shirt that once said "Spoiled," but now says "Sp led."

They also have a massive collection of books, but they are in no order whatsoever. It's just like...Tada! Books! I love looking at books, but dude, that room gives me a coronary.

Needless to say, I didn't find anything today.

Then, to cap off that whole experience, I went over to Longs to buy some flavored water. (Longs is right next to my work, so it's not like I have a whole lot of options here, people.) Everything was fine until I was in the checkout line. The old lady in front of me walked away kinda funny, and when I looked down at her sandaled feet, I saw something that must exist only in Lord of the Rings: Her big toes were at a 90-degree angle from where they should be. That's right, each big toe pointed to the side and all the other toes rested on top of them. It must make nail-trimming difficult, because her toenails were all loooong and yellow and...::shudder:: I'm gagging again. Worst feet I have ever seen. EVER.

And everyone wonders why I don't leave the office much.

Stuck

2006-10-11T12:10:00.000-07:00

I have an underdeveloped topic on the backburner, and now I have blogger's block. Therefore, I'll pose this question today:

What should I be for Halloween? (Make it reasonable, please. Nothing that involves, like, 100 boxes of foil, etc.)

Movie Monday 2

2006-10-09T18:31:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know I skipped Movie Monday last week, but that's because...well, I forgot I started Movie Monday.

Anywho, here's this week's selection. One of my favorite things on TV. Guess why?

A Pocket Full of...Horse?

2006-10-05T18:55:00.000-07:00

I envision a world where horses and elephants are as small as squirrels.

Why does no one get this??

Several times I have brought up this idea, and I think only one or two people have agreed that it would be superultracute to have a pet horse that can play with your cat. Or a miniphant that would sit in your lap while you watch TV, trumpeting his content while munching peanuts.

What is with you, people?! Here we can genetically engineer a mouse to grow a human ear out of its back, but we can't do Pocket Ponies? (This is my official name for them. I'm pondering trademarking.) I know, I know...you're worried about potentially stepping on your Pocket Pony as it roams your dwelling. Well, get hardwood floors. Then you'll know where your PP is at all times.

Should Pocket Ponies and Miniphants prove successful, imagine what kind of other Pocket animals we could come up with! How about Minatees? (A small, portable manatee. Perhaps for your purse? Begone, teacup chihuahua!) Or Tiny Tigers? (They'll always stay kitten-sized!) Of course, Bitty Bears. And for you ::shudder:: reptile lovers, Pocket Pythons. (Please, no teenage boy jokes here. We've had enough this week with Congressman Mark Foley.)

I really think this could work. Just stop and think of how awesome it would be to have a horsie you can hold in your hand. It would have only very tiny poops, so clean-up's a cinch. Perhaps you could even litter-box train it! OMG, I am going to fall over from the imagined cuteness that is a Pocket Pony digging in a litter box.

Maybe I should stop drinking coffee. And that was decaf! Hmm.

Merry Madness

2006-10-04T15:20:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in chorus rehearsal last night when I realized...

Some holiday songs just ain't right.

For example, "We Wish You a Merry Christmas." It starts off all nice:

We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
We wish you a Merry Christmas
And a happy New Year.

Good tidings we bring
To you and your kin
Good tidings for Christmas
And a happy New Year.

All of a sudden, it's a multiple-personality song!

Now bring us some figgy pudding,
Now bring us some figgy pudding,
Now bring us some figgy pudding,
And bring some right here!

Good tidings we bring
To you and your kin;
Good tidings for Christmas
And a Happy New Year!

See the odd mood swing there? What is the deal with the sudden demand for this figgy pudding? Have you even looked up a recipe for figgy pudding? It's nasty! Anything that involves pureed figs, walnuts and baking in the oven is an offense to humankind. And I'm not bringing anything without a "please."

But wait! What's this?

We won't go until we get some
We won't go until we get some
We won't go until we get some
So bring some right here!

What?! Not only do you come into my house rudely asking for figgy pudding, now you won't get the hell out without some?? What kind of holiday cheer is this? I really don't want to be going into the kitchen and slaving over fig paste just so my houseguests will leave. There's just something wrong about that. Very wrong indeed.

Next we have "Winter Wonderland." Why is everyone pretending the snowman is Parson Brown? Who IS Parson Brown? Either he's really cool, or he's a total schmuck. You have to be one or the other in order to have a snowman in your likeness. Especially when at one point in the song, he becomes a circus clown and "all the other kiddies knock him down." Hmm. Methinks Parson Brown may be a big dweeb. Might wanna think about a name like Dylan or Chaz. Something less...Parson-y.

Lastly, "Let It Snow" has disturbingly sexual undertones. "The lights are turned way down low"? "We're still goodbye-ing"? So...this is how we celebrate the birth of Jesus, eh? Interesting. I see where the priorities lay...

Also, being from California, what the heck is so cheerful about snow all the time?! It's cold! And wet! I find no reason to be singing such happiness about solidified rain. Or ::shudder/gag:: figgy pudding.

Why Are People Mean/Suck?

2006-09-29T14:43:00.000-07:00

No, I don't have a specific incident that triggered this blog topic, but as I was on my walk today, I started thinking about how more and more it seems that people just aren't nice.

I mean, it doesn't matter how many good things you say or do, how much you go out of your way, how far you bend over backwards, how encouraging you try to be...people just end up sucking. Have you noticed that? And then it turns YOU mean sometimes, and perpetuates the cycle.

Why is it that people just don't seem receptive to a good deed or a kind word anymore? Sometimes you're met with a harsh comment, or at the very least you just get ignored. It's weird. I know when someone does something nice for me or gives me a compliment, I feel incredibly rude if I don't at least say "thank you" or return the favor, or pay it forward to someone else.

Anyway, I don't know why this seems to be a trend. People are hardened now or something. Too wrapped up in their daily stress? What's up?

Playhouse Ponderances

2006-09-28T18:52:00.000-07:00

I was watching Pee-Wee's Playhouse last night (shut up, let a girl live out a little nostalgia, wouldja), and the whole episode centered around Pee-Wee trying to decide who to take to a Hawaiian dinner with him. He had won two tickets, and everyone in Puppet Land was sucking up to him so he would take them.

So. Yes, that took up a whole episode. Finally, at the very end, he remembered that Jambi could grant wishes, and wished "there was some way he could take everyone to the Hawaiian dinner." Mecca-lecca-hi mecca-hiney-ho, the playhouse became the scene of a luau.

But here's the thing. Everyone partied for about a minute and a half. Then, all of a sudden, Pee-Wee went over to the wall, pushed the button and out came his scooter. That's right, boys and girls, after all the hullaballoo, the Peester was ditching his own party.

Didn't anyone there find this odd? Wouldn't you think that at least Miss Yvonne would say something like, "No, Pee-Wee, you can't leave now, we're just starting to have fun!" Nope, everyone smiled and waved like it was perfectly normal that Pee-Wee should need to suddenly leave during a luau in his own playhouse.

Furthermore, it leaves one wondering where the heck it is that Pee-Wee goes when he leaves the playhouse (please keep Paul Reubens jokes to self here...). To the store? What was in those coconut-shell drinks? Did he go to get more? Does he have a "real" house somewhere, and a "real" job? Is he like a stockbroker or something? Also, why would anyone spend only half an hour in his playhouse every day? Why not spend all day there! These issues need to be addressed.

I also want to know:

-How does Jambi go to the bathroom?
-When Pee-Wee leaves the playhouse, does everyone have to leave? Or do they just stay there and he trusts them?
-Do the "live" foods in the fridge and freezer need to eat?
-When Pee-Wee isn't there, what does everyone (Chairy, Magic Screen, etc.) do? Sleep?
-Why does the same door-to-door salesman always knock on Pee-Wee's door when he knows he's just going to get the door slammed in his face? Wouldn't you permanently cross that address off the list after a few times? Also, what is he selling? We never find out.
-Is the driver for the King of Cartoons a lesbian?
-Where exactly is Puppet Land? Do they have taxes there? Does Pee-Wee have to pay electric bills and such? I mean, there's Reba the Mail Lady, so we know he gets mail. What's in the mail?
-Why did anyone ever think it would be a good idea to bring the Mrs. Steve character onto the show?

There you go, Pee-Wee connoisseurs. Have at it.

Yes! See, I'm Not Crazy!

2006-09-27T19:46:00.000-07:00

NYC mulls ban on trans fats in eateries

By DAVID B. CARUSO
Associated Press Writer

NEW YORK - Three years after the city banned smoking in restaurants, health officials are talking about prohibiting something they say is almost as bad: artificial trans fatty acids.

The city health department unveiled a proposal Tuesday that would bar cooks at any of the city's 24,600 food service establishments from using ingredients that contain the artery-clogging substance, commonly listed on food labels as partially hydrogenated oil.

Artificial trans fats are found in some shortenings, margarine and frying oils and turn up in foods from pie crusts to french fries to doughnuts.

Doctors agree that trans fats are unhealthy in nearly any amount, but a spokesman for the restaurant industry said he was stunned the city would seek to ban a legal ingredient found in millions of American kitchens.

"Labeling is one thing, but when they totally ban a product, it goes well beyond what we think is prudent and acceptable," said Chuck Hunt, executive vice president of the city's chapter of the New York State Restaurant Association.

He said the proposal could create havoc: Cooks would be forced to discard old recipes and scrutinize every ingredient in their pantry. A restaurant could face a fine if an inspector finds the wrong type of vegetable shortening on its shelves.

The proposal also would create a huge problem for national chains. Among the fast foods that would need to get an overhaul or face a ban: McDonald's french fries, Kentucky Fried Chicken and several varieties of Dunkin' Donuts.

Health Commissioner Thomas Frieden acknowledged that the ban would be a challenge for restaurants, but he said trans fats can easily be replaced with substitute oils that taste the same or better and are far less unhealthy.

"It is a dangerous and unnecessary ingredient," Frieden said. "No one will miss it when it's gone."

A similar ban on trans fats in restaurant food has been proposed in Chicago and is still under consideration, although it has been ridiculed by some as unnecessary government meddling.

The latest version of the Chicago plan would only apply to companies with annual revenues of more than $20 million, a provision aimed exclusively at fast-food giants.

A few companies have moved to eliminate trans fats on their own.

Wendy's announced in August that it had switched to a new cooking oil that contains no trans fatty acids. Crisco now sells a shortening that contains zero trans fats. Frito-Lay removed trans fats from its Doritos and Cheetos. Kraft's took trans fats out of Oreos.

McDonald's began using a trans fat-free cooking oil in Denmark after that country banned artificial trans fats in processed food, but it has yet to do so in the United States.

Walt Riker, vice president of corporate communications at McDonald's, said in a statement Tuesday that the company would review New York's proposal.

"McDonald's knows this is an important issue, which is why we continue to test in earnest to find ways to further reduce (trans fatty acid) levels," he said.

New York's health department had asked restaurants to impose a voluntary ban last year but found use of trans fats unchanged in recent surveys.

Under the New York proposal, restaurants would need to get artificial trans fats out of cooking oils, margarine and shortening by July 1, 2007, and all other foodstuffs by July 1, 2008. It would not affect grocery stores. It also would not apply to naturally occurring trans fats, which are found in some meats and dairy.

The Board of Health has yet to approve the proposal and will not do so until at least December, Frieden said.

The U.S. Food and Drug Administration began requiring food labels to list trans fats in January.

Dr. Walter Willett, chairman of the Department of Nutrition at the Harvard University School of Public Health, praised New York health officials for considering a ban, which he said could save lives.

"Artificial trans fats are very toxic, and they almost surely causes tens of thousands of premature deaths each year," he said. "The federal government should have done this long ago."