I guess if I have time to look at T-Shirts, I have time to blog, right?

I know, I know. You're wondering where the hell I've been. Well, I've been swamped at work, that's where I've been! My blogging hobby would greatly benefit from having access to a computer at home...and all that time I spend sleeping in the wee hours of the morning could be spent writing, instead. No such luck. My computer is archaic, at best, and can no longer serve me the way a good computer should. So, for the time being, you must suffer the inconvenience of my infrequency. I offer you my deepest regrets.

On another note...you'll recall my recent story about the "Interpretive Dance Joke" at work, right? Well, I was visiting my favorite source of T-Shirt wear the other day when I found this.

Because I knew they'd get a kick out of it, I passed the link around to my coworkers. After what I'm sure turned out to be a great deal of tweaking and somewhat illegal graphic manipulation, my friend (and co-worker), wandered into my office and posted this sign:



Please do not call 1-800-Dance4U at this time. I'm all booked up for the Holiday season. Feel free to try after the new year begins.

It's interesting to me that this picture is posted on a Mullet Enthusiast Website because, really, the mullet is the last thing I notice.

Okay, Okay! I Give In.

I was doing SO well for a while, wasn’t I? I succeeded to distribute a steady stream of good reads for over a month, and then, much to my dismay, I just ran out of steam. I was hoping that maybe nobody had noticed I’ve been slacking. Or that, maybe, my recent posts were of such impeccable quality that their influence would carry on for a while and cancel out the need for replenishment. Seems like I was wrong on both counts. shucks.

I had the time to visit Elise’s site (All or Nothing...linked at the left) this morning and immediately experienced two emotions simultaneously. First—joy. I was quite the excited girl to see that she’s posted like 57 fabulous and funny new entries in the past month. And not only that, but she’s upgraded the site with cool fonts and an even cooler fun-looking, cool-vintage, old-timey sexy lady character mascot thingy. Second—shame with a sprinkling of jealousy. I realized that I have to catch up with her now. After all, she’s posted like 57 fabulous and funny new entries in the past month. And not only that, but she’s upgraded the site with cool fonts and an even cooler fun-looking, cool-vintage, old-timey sexy lady character mascot thingy. You tryin to make me look bad, punk? It’s ON, my friend. Oh, yeah. It’s ON.

Who I am kidding? Competition takes too much effort. I’d rather just pretend that we’re equals. Humor me.

There IS one challenge that I’ve decided I can manage to meet. Elise made it a point to mention in her blog that I “DESPERATELY” need a new post and that I should complete the lame little quiz that she agreed to complete per the request of someone else. Okay…so it’s not much of a challenge. But it is one that I can handle. So, here goes.


Three Things that Scare Me:
I’ve actually written quite a bit about fears in the past year and a half or so, but I’ll try to think of some new ones.
1. Moose (They can kill people, ya know. Seriously, they can.)
2. Poverty (Which is why I work so hard to eradicate it from my own life and the lives of others.)
3. Being stuck in an elevator with John Lovitz for an extended period of time. Correction: Being stuck in an elevator with John Lovitz for ANY amount of time. Correction: Being physically stuck to John Lovitz by means of super glue, bodily fluids, or grape jam.

Three People Who Make me Laugh:
1. myself
2. Conan O’Brien
3. almost every single member of my family. Does laughing AT someone count??

Three Things I Hate the Most:
Again…I’ve covered this topic many times. But I’ll NEVER run out of things to gripe about hating. Or hate about griping…whichever makes more sense.
1. Rudeness
2. Ignorance
3. John Lovitz

Three Things I Don’t Understand:
1. Rudeness
2. the ever-growing popularity of “Crocs”
3. the rules to poker

Three Things I’m Doing Right Now:
1. Listening to “In the Name of Love” (a compilation of U2 covers that was recorded to aid WorldVision’s efforts in Africa. It’s an old one that I happened to dig out this morning.)
2. Watching our office cleaning crew fight (rather loudly and humorously) about the CORRECT way to mop.
3. Thinking about all the work that I should be doing instead of writing this blog.

Three Things I Want to Do Before I Die:
1. Write a book!! (at the TOP of MY list, Elise.)
2. Try to be a platinum blonde
3. Stand at the foot of the Sphinx in Egypt

Three Things I Can Do:
1. make people laugh
2. make a mean peanut butter and banana milkshake
3. stay calm in an extreme emergency (as I was just recently reminded)

Three Ways to Describe My Personality:
1. Someone who doesn’t like me might say “over analytical”. Someone who does might call it “insightful”.
2. quirky
3. emotional (interpret that how you choose)

Three Things I Can’t Do:
1. pretend to enjoy the company of idiots
2. anything that involves wearing non-shoe items on my feet. Rollerblading, snowskiing, waterskiing, skateboarding, and stilt-walking included.
3. tolerate the smell of pickles

Three Things I Think You Should Listen To:
1. the rain
2. Kristen’s music…any of it
3. what people are REALLY saying when they talk to you

Three Things You Should Never Listen To:
1. me singing in the shower
2. your neighbors having sex. or people in vehicles outside your bedroom window having sex.
3. Marilyn Manson’s Christmas album

Three Favorite Foods:
1. strangely, surprisingly….sushi is climbing the charts
2. ice cream. Definitely ice cream. This is why Elise and I get along so well.
3. anything with cheese on it

Three Beverages I Drink Regularly:
This is such a boring question.
1. coke
2. milk
3. chai

Three Shows I Watched as a Kid:
1. Pinwheel’s Playhouse (a generic version of Seasme Street that ROCKED!!)
2. General Hospital. Somehow my mother didn’t mind me watching HER soap operas. But she thought that 90210 was “too mature” for me. What-ev, mama…what-ev.
3. Kids Incorporated (I’m completely traumatized that Stacey Ferguson now shakes her ass and pees her pants on stage with the Black Eyed Peas. What happened to her?)

Three People I’m Tagging (to do this):
This is unfair b/c I don’t have many friends with blog sites.
1. Kristen
2. Dancuh-Boi
3. Elise, how about you do it again?? But this time…be funny.

be a member of my entourage

In efforts to increase my savy in the ever-growing field of technology, I have installed a subscription link to my blogsite. If you're interested, you can sign up through the link down on the left hand side of the screen. I guess you'll get an email every now and then when I've posted a new entry. Honestly, I'm not exactly sure how it works. We'll find out together!

Don't think for a second that I haven't noticed that NOBODY has responded to my request for bad date stories....

more gross stuff

Can't really tell what this is a picture of? It's a python eating an alligator. I was completely horrified and disgusted by this story. To read it, click on the link: http://msnbc.msn.com/id/9600151/

There was only one thing that disgusted me MORE today. While I was talking to a woman with a glass eye this morning, some type of gooey substance started oozing out from underneath it. Seriously, I almost vomited. I had to walk away from her.

ch..ch..ch..changes...

New look, but same great taste! Yes, so you can see I've made some changes on my blog page. Slow day at work today, kids.
Because I've made changes, I had to install a new site meter...which means we've started over at "1". This makes me sad because as of this morning, I think the hit count was over 1,600. Oh, well.

At the top of the page is the infamous Bridget. My pride and joy. Ain't she cute? If you want to see her adorable kitty face up close, you'll have to click. Just above is...me. In case you've always wondered what I look like...there I am...waving at you in reluctant glee. Your imaginations probably served you better. Just for the record, though...I'm REALLY unphotogenic. I promise I look better in person.

i'm a pretty pretty princess

You know what I just LOVE? Walking under blooming Crepe Myrtle trees and getting showered by the little tiny pink petals and what I like to call "tree juice". (It's like a little baby rain shower just for you in that moment.) It makes me feel like I'm in a poem or a Jane Austen film.

Bathtime Occurrences on This, Our Hypothesized Last Day on Earth

Two things occurred to me while I was in the shower this morning. Things often occur to me in the shower. In fact, that's really the only reason I ever take showers; so that things will occur to me. Otherwise I wander the streets completely incoherent and void of all thought. Last time that happened I was picked up for prostitution.

The first thing that occurred to me this morning was that I seem to have temporarily lost my desire to make fun of people I don't know. (okay. not true. the FIRST thing that occurred to me this morning was actually that I had an unusual amount of eye crust upon waking.) I've had no trouble at all lately making fun of people I know...to their faces. It's my dysfunctional way of showing affection; or maybe my passive aggressive way of revealing underlying hatred. Either way, I've had no trouble doing it. But when it comes to the normal vituperation of strangers (or even people that I know but just don't care for) that I strive for, I've become soft. For instance: I've attempted to write several blog entries in the past week serving no purpose at all but to gibe, but my conscious has prevented me from publishing them, or even finish them, for that matter. I've pasted one example below. It was birthed from a bitter dislike...and I just couldn't bring myself to complete it.


"There's this woman I know who talks incessantly about her daughter. I've never met the girl, but apparently she is the most charming, brilliant, hilarious, life-impacting human being of all time. It would be impossible for me to calculate the number of glorifying stories I've heard her tell about her beloved flesh and blood.

Crystal (not really her name...but I picture her the way I picture a "Crystal"...fat, unsettlingly unattractive like her mother, promiscuous, and of sour personality) is the epitome of what's good (good, not great. because the two are very different concepts) about today's youth. Believe it or not, EVERY single one of her peers from birth till now have been jealous of her to the point of sabotaging her physically, emotionally, or relationally. Every story told about Crystal paints her as an unappreciated savior. She's a modern day martyr. And all of this despite her earlier days of drug and alcohol addiction, frequent incarceration, flunking out of school, and whoring around (the latter two she's never overcome). "


I got that far and stopped to remind myself that this woman is someone who carries no significance in my life; and therefore, why would I bother to think enough of her to continue writing about her? If I considered her a friend who might actually get a laugh out of my ranting, then maybe it would be worth my time. My efforts suddenly felt snide and pointless. My balloon of contempt was deflated. Part of this condition is the fact that I'm working with really wonderful people now. I, as most people, have always enjoyed complaining about my employers/coworkers. Seems like I can't do that anymore. My new workplace has thrown me in with a bunch of freaks that so far seem like wonderfully gracious souls. What will I do now?? I can't afford to lose my edge. I'm too young to lose my edge.

The second thing that occurred to me this morning really has nothing at all to do with the first. Some of my most beloved and most lovable friends are coming here to spend my birthday with me this weekend. I'm absolutely joyous in this fact, by the way. I've been stressing out a tad bit, however, as I attempt to plan something of a celebratory nature for the big day. Many people know that I've been less than thrilled with my social life since moving back to Louisiana. I know lots of people here. Lots of great people. But the percentage of these great people that I have been enchanted with to the point that I actually like to spend time with them is a bit on the smallish side. I've invited a few of them already to participate in the grandeur of my birthday, but I'm struggling to make much progress. It has OCCURRED to me that I don't have a clue how to begin to plan something that will accommodate/appeal to all of my friends here.

I've bragged before about how all of my friends are "so very different"...like it says something good about ME...and this social detail has popped up once again. However, I currently find it more troublesome than charming. I can't imagine putting all of these people in a room together (or around a table, or at a bar, i.e.) with the outcome that they'd all enjoy each others' company. I picture a party at which Anna Nicole Smith is serving up the queso, Jim J. Bullock is pouring the booze (and throwing quite a few back, I'm sure), Ann Graham Lott is playing DJ, and George Stepanopolous is in charge of the kareoke machine. I think such a gathering would be categorized somewhere in rank between a cock fight and a car wreck. Sounds like a rockin time, huh? Would be for me, in fact, but my constant concern for the emotional comfort of others would have me unbearably anxious throughout the entire event. Perhaps I just don't have enough faith in people. Why do I always assume that others will always be more uncomfortable than myself in social situations? Is it more adult of me to be concerned or to expect everyone else to behave as adults and fend for themselves? tough one. As long as I don't force them all to play Truth or Dare, they should be fine, I guess. My project for tonight is create a way to combine Trivial Pursuit, Strip Poker, and Bible Monopoly.

I've had so much to say lately....just no time to say it. Not here, anyway. Blog, my love....I miss you.

Yes, so, I'm starting a new job tomorrow. Everyone keeps asking me if I'm excited. My answer every time has been a non-hesitant "no". I'm not caught in the antithesis of excited....I'm not dreading this new position. I don't think I feel anything about it at all at this point. You know how your body defaults to shock when the nerve endings detect a certain level of physical pain? Fascinating (and appreciated) nature-made protection device. Well, I think I'm in emotional shock. My body is allowing me to feel no emotion so that the culmination of it all won't finish me off. Remember my not-so-long-ago complaint about my crying overages? Well, amazingly, I haven't shed a tear in 6 weeks or so. I could get used to this.

The feeling will return before long. The numbness will begin to fade, and then I'll just feel all tingly for a while, and before I know it....all will be back to normal. Even if it doesn't, I'm sure I'll have reports from this....yet another.... new career venture. What is this---like number 35??

If Luck were a baby, he'd be a bastard.

WooHoo!! I'm the big winner! My car was broken into yesterday....again. When it happened 6 months ago or so, everyone on my street said "That hasn't happened on our street for years." Of course, they also said that several weeks later when the house got broken into. The cops and my landlord both said (in regards to yesterday's incident) "That hasn't happened at these apartments for a couple of years." Fascinating, don't ya think? Has anyone noticed a freakin spotlight shining on me from somewhere? Why am I so damn lucky?

I know what you're thinking....you wish I'd shut up and drop the defeatist attitude. But this is my blog, so I can vent as much as I care to. That's why I have a blog in the first place, after all. I'm signing off now....I've gotta go get a third job to pay for my new car window.

aahhhh.....about the poetry, that is........

The restroom at my office bears the classic poem of the public toilet. Printed and laminated on a discolored sheet of construction paper reads “If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweetie and wipe the seatie.” Next to the poem is the graphic of a not-so-modern robot holding a balloon. I take offense at this cutesie reminder to not piss all over the toilet seat. First of all….I don’t need a reminder. I feel like I’m in the 2nd grade when I have to read that 4 times a day. (6-7 times if I drink a lot.) Secondly….why the robot? Seems like a better spokesperson for responsible restroom behavior would be a nurse or a bluebird or Barney….or even Magic Johnson. I’m just incredibly annoyed with the whole thing. I never thought I’d say it, but I’d rather read fowl cusswords and phone numbers of strangers when I pee in a public place. That’s the way it should be.

Does it make anyone else sad that The Boy Who Could Fly is now the middle aged man who sells Advil?

Watch Out. It's a Bull Market out there. Or, so I've heard.

What day of the week will April 15th, 2019 fall on? What day did it fall on in 1942? If it's 5:00 p.m. in Lisbon, then what time is it in Vancouver? Does your business fall under a "1R" or a "2R" rating in the D&B system? What is the definition of "Greenmail"? How many miles is it from Nairobi and Bombay? If you need the answers to any of these questions, I'm your go-to gal.

I just purchased a $40 day planner, and the above is just a small sample of the wealth of knowledge it contains. Honestly, I haven't used a day planner in quite some time....which might explain my usual brain jumble of appointments and deadlines. Apparently all of the ones I owned in the past were cheap teaniebop versions because they never contained mini-encyclopedias like this one does. (but at least those had extra pages for my weekly updated list of boys that I liked) While this new possession should make me feel all new and shiny--empowered with fancy facts, I'm really just annoyed. Who needs crap like this in their planner? Anyone who does surely wouldn't be using a $40 leather binder to keep their lives straight. Their personal assistants would be doing it for them by way of high tech laser hieroglyphics Or is my professional life just extremely lame and trivial....or lamely trivial....or trivially lame?? No, the Mead Company is mocking me, my friends. It's mocking all of us for our ability to function without a toteable Wall Street dictionary. Now excuse me while I place a few prank calls to the Milwaukee Econo Lodge.

This may frighten the children....

Now, I realize that Oprah must be, on some level, a genius. How else does one become the richest and most popular person in the entire freakin universe? But I wonder where this genius hides itself in her person, because observing her only leads me to the conclusion that she’s a moron. (or, as I like to say, a moe-ron) Watch her show one day and pay attention to what she does and doesn’t say. I’d bet you a dollar (maybe two) that at least once during her show you’ll her say “Yeah, girl. You KNOW that’s true!” or “That’s what I’m talking about!”….and then she laughs her horsey laugh. Really, her show is just an hour of her saying one of those two things in a variety of ways. Anyway….this is my overall opinion of her, so I try to make fun of her as much as social conversation allows.

Then there’s Tom Cruise. I think he’s a good actor. I enjoy his movies. But we all know he’s gone a bit crazy. Okay, he’s gone a lot crazy. But what would I know about crazy, anyway? HE’s done all the research, and none of US have. What the hell do we know?

Much to my delight, my cousins recently introduced me to a video clip that made my world very happy for about 30 seconds. It brilliantly highlights a touching moment that flatters two of my most favorite people. Make sure you view this with the sound up....

www.zippyvideos.com/153109597471325.html

So, apparently, the new XBox 360 was released this week. I do know what an XBox is, of course, but the "360" part means absolutely nothing to me. Not that it meant anything to me without the "360", either. Anyway...thousands of teenaged boys and young men all over the country camped out for up to 3 days in front of various locations of Best Buy, Tweeter's, and Target stores just to get their hands of the first shipments of this computer game miracle. For 3 days? Their girlfriends really must have missed them while they were gone. Oh, wait. What was I thinking?


On a sidenote....I must issue a clarification of something I mentioned in my last entry. When I referred to the hair tragedy of 2001, I didn't mean that looking "like a Hispanic" was a bad thing! And, obviously, I'm not so at ease with stereotyping that I would imply that
Black Hair = Hispanic. It was simply the sharing of a memory...and one of the irrational exclaimations I recalled making at the time. Besides, all of my Hispanic pals are freakin gorgeous. If black hair could, in any way, make me look like all of them...I'd dye it back in a second.

Take my picture by the pool...


...cuz I'm the next big thing.

"WELCOME" ....to my blog

I was talking with someone the other day….don’t recall who….about what we wanted “to be” when we were kids. I always love asking people that. I think it can be very revealing about one’s childhood and what has happened on their journey to adulthood.

For many years, I was dead-set on being a Marine Biologist. I know a lot of little girls are drawn to that profession simply for the allure of swimming with smiley Bottle Nosed Dolphins on a daily basis. There was something more that appealed to me, however. I’ve always been fascinated by the ocean. Scared by it, too…but I guess that’s part of the fascination. I wanted to dive into unseen worlds and discover new species and have my own series of documentaries…just like Jacque Cousteau. I took a Marine Science class in middle school and threw myself into every assignment as if my career depended on it. I even started out in college as a Biology major…knowing that would lead me to my destiny. Funny thing was…I hated biology. And the whole idea of my future profession taking place under water was always a sham because I’ve had horrendous ear problems since babyhood that prevent me from getting ANY water in my ears; and I would never be able to dive because my eardrums can’t take the pressure. I finally accepted these facts as a freshman in college and moved on to discover other interests.

To make a VERY VERY long story short, I’m finally in a job that suits me well. But, as content as I am, I know I won’t do this forever. There are too many other things out there that I want to do before my life ends. Even though I’m “all growed up” now, I still have a mental list of dream jobs….things I want to be when I grow up even more. I realize that the likeliness of any of this occurring is equal to the likeliness that I’ll run into Orlando Bloom at Wal-Mart on the cereal aisle and marry him 3 weeks later (running away hand in hand under a confetti shower of Fruit Loops in honor of our meeting)….but it’s good to have dreams.

Here’s my list (yay!…another list!):

1. I want to own a children’s book store just like the one Meg Ryan owns in “You’ve Got Mail”. I haven’t come up with a name for it yet…but I’ve got ideas. I’ll have to move back to a big city to do this…but that’s all part of the plan.

2. Preceding, or in conjunction with, or following the above listed venture…I want to be a published author of children’s literature. I’ve started some books but never have the time (or determination) to actually finish them and do something with them. One day.

3. I want to be an ambassador for UNICEF or The International Justice Mission and travel the world making things better for children and women who don’t have the ability to change things themselves.

4. Second to ambassadorship, I’d like to work for the same type of organization as a photographer.

5. I can work at a vineyard stomping grapes for wine production. I think customers would like that. A lot.

6. Inspired by a close friend of mine in the same profession, I’d work to further establish international adoption agencies that operate with integrity and efficiency.

7. I would be a GREAT greeting card designer. I wouldn’t work for Hallmark, though…I’d have my own label. There would be lots of laughs and a minimal amount of cheese involved.

8. The San Diego Zoo may one day hire me to train Orangutans. I’ve submitted my resume already.

9. I’d be happy to work for a cosmetics company in the marketing department. Somebody has to come up with interesting names for products and lipstick colors. Origins seems to be the most creative in this area, so maybe I’ll bless them with my innovative mind.

10. I share this particular dream with a few other friends, I think….so perhaps we can do it jointly….When I’m MUCH older, I’ll buy a bed and breakfast in some beautiful location and people will travel for hundreds of miles to bask in the serene hominess…and my charm and wit.

11. I’ve saved the best for last!! What I want more than anything is to be the spokeswoman/greeter for movie theater companies. You know how, when the lights dim, an obnoxious intro sequence plays that takes you on a not-so-virtual roller coaster ride through outer space? I wanna be the lady with the cool space-like haircut whos’ head is like 15 feet wide who says in a dramatic voice, “Welcome”…and then your roller coaster zooms through her nose or wherever. Everyone knows what I’m talking about, right?? I think she’s the same chick that Six Flags uses on the “Mr.Freeze” ride that warns you repeatedly as you walk through the 3-hour-long-mazed line that the Gotham Nuclear Ice Plant is about to self-destruct. I can be inviting, ominous, and sexy all at the same time. Just listen to my outgoing voicemail message.

Yeah, so, my neighbor and I had a charming conversation this morning in our underwear.

Just when I think maybe I AM kinda sorta of the smart type, I go and do something stupid. Needing to drop some items in the mailbox, I stepped out onto the porch in my jammies. My roomate's Down Syndrome-stricten kitty runs out whenever given the chance, so I pulled the door to the jamb as I exited to keep him inside. Unfortunately, I pulled too efficiently. The damn thing locks automatically, and I immediately realized what I had done. Ironically, we used to keep a spare key (for this very reason) on the porch. But two weeks ago, our house was robbed, and we rethought the idea.

When spouting explictatives didn't seem to be helping, I had to make a plan. The only one that seemed logical was to wake up my neighbor to use his phone. We all know that our pajamas aren't often presentable to the public. If they were, they wouldn't be pajamas at all. Today wasn't as bad as normal. My main concern was my see-through pajama pants. No, they aren't SUPOSSED to be see-through. They're just old and worn and SUPER comfy in their tissue-paper thinness. So, I rang the neighbor's bell....barefooted, hair unbrushed, and my cartoony panties in complete, unsheilded view. Having been awakened, the (very) cute neighbor was in similar shape with a pair of boxers. We both pretended not to feel awkward as we talked for the first time ever in his living room. I don't know whether to be thankful or regrettful that I hadn't worn my lace nightie to bed....maybe I could have gotten a free breakfast out of it.

Sink your teeth into a jelly donut for goodness sake!

Have you ever noticed that ALL vampires are lean and stylish? Why is that, exactly?

The leanness could certainly be attributed to thier high protein, low carb diet. But surely they consume something other than blood. I don't guess I've ever seen a vampire eat a cheeseburger and fries, but I think it's plain unrealistic to assume they don't have other cravings.

The stylish factor is a little more puzzling. First of all, I've never seen a vampire with a real job. Vampires are never accountants or school teachers or construction workers. Do they ALL come from hundreds of years of family money? I doubt it. How can they afford such nice wardrobes? It seems like nowadays, they'd be wearing crap leftovers from generations past. We all hated having to wear hand-me-downs from 2nd cousins, but it would really suck to be stuck in moth-eaten scraps from 1865. Maybe it's just that they stick mostly to black....classic pieces that stay up to date.

What I really want to see is a fat ass vampire with a comb-over and sweatpants; channel surfing and scratching his balls. Isn't that what we ALL want?