Thursday, April 30, 2009
So this is my ADORABLE nephew Miller. He has quite an attitude, just like his Aunt Kate.
Yesterday, I updated my Facebook status to say, "Kate is tired of seeing pictures of babies. Was that ugly?" And some people, naturally were offended. My thinking is that if you were offended, then you are guilty of showing too much of your baby. Facebook has gone from seeing pictures of people having fun and doing super amazing things and documenting their lives to posting baby pictures. How boring! I want to see pictures of you doing things that I can discuss with my friends later. It's either that, or we'll discuss how ugly your baby is. Maybe it's the age that I'm at. Everyone is popping out children. Perhaps I should find younger friends. Or perhaps I should delete Facebook (yeah right.)
I don't care for children. Except this one. And his baby brother or sister (hopefully sister) that I just found out about!!! Wooo hoo! I'll care for that one as well.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
My family doesn't really have reunions (there are like 4 of us, total). Or maybe they do, but they know that I would make up any excuse to get out of going to them so they just stopped inviting me. That is more than likely the case.
Also, they have a margarita machine and a pool (not that I am about to go parading around in my bathing suit in front of people), so the kids are occupied. Every year they make t-shirts for everyone to put on. 2007 they were yellow (see above). And last year they were blue:
This past summer I finally investigated what all the buzz was about regarding the show Jon and Kate Plus 8. Basically there's this couple who has 8 kids - 6 of them are sextuplets and the other 2 are twins. So the show documents the family life and yada yada.
It's not really that interesting of a show. I'm not sure why I even continued watching it but there are two things that stood out to me. I think that they have excellent parenting skills. They have taught the kids how to chip in, do their part, get along, share, etc.
The other thing that stood out to me is that Kate is a raging bitch. She constantly talks down to Jon, tells him how dumb he is, and basically makes fun of him on national television. Bless his heart, Jon is so passive-aggressive that he just sits there and takes it and never stands up to defend himself.
So, this morning when I checked my usual celebrity blog sites, I was not surprised IN THE LEAST when I saw this:
Basically the article talks about how Kate was off promoting her new book somewhere and Jon was out at a bar. No big deal. He has the right to go to a bar, right? Well, he's caught leaving said bar with some chick driving his new car. When asked who the girl was he says:
“I went to Legends to speak to the owner. A friend of mine wanted to check out my car, so I let her drive it to her car,” he says. “Yes, I have female friends — but that is all she is. I’m not going to end my friendships just because I’m on TV.”
What an idiot!!!!! There's nothing wrong with going out and having some drinks and having a designated driver, but why didn't he just say that? Maybe that wasn't even the case. All I know is that Kate may be Maleficent from Sleeping Beauty, but she doesn't deserve to be cheated on.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Sporadically over the past two weeks, my boss has decided to bring one of her pets to work with her. No big deal, right? I LOVE dogs (not cats) and get along pretty well with most four legged creatures. So, I think to self: "Great, something fun to entertain me." Wrong:
Now, I know in this day and age no one watches the Game Show Network. (Except me!) I love old reruns of Let's Make A Deal, Family Feud, Pyramid, The Newlywed Game, etc. John constantly nags me about changing the channel when I decide that I want to watch an episode of Lingo, which is one of their newer shows (hosted by Chuck Woolery, formerly of Scrabble. God, I loved that man growing up).
One day whilst perusing the Guide option on the Direct TV remote, I saw that a show called Russian Roulette was on GSN. I thought, "Wow, this HAS to be good." Let me just say that I was not disappointed. First of all, it's hosted by Mark Wahlberg:
I knew that's the Mark Wahlberg that you were thinking of. But no, it's actually THIS Mark Wahlberg:
(If he looks familiar, but unplaceable, please refer back to the 90's when he was the host of Shop Til You Drop. It came on after Supermarket Sweep on Lifetime.) Apparently, Mark here has taken a career nosedive after that. Since STYD he has partaken in Temptation Island and Antiques Roadshow. I guess life threw him a bone, because now, like I said previously, he is the host of Russian Roulette.
I apologize for the small photo. But please note that THE CONTESTANT DROPS THROUGH THE STAGE UNEXPECTEDLY AND IS NEVER SEEN FROM AGAIN!!!!
Seriously, THANK YOU Game Show Network. This is the most entertaining game show I have ever watched. Please, if you have a DVR, I beg of you... for guaranteed laughs, record this show and think to yourself "Wow, television can't get any better than this."
Monday, April 27, 2009
This weekend, whilst celebrating our 1-year anniversary, John notices that Bull Durham is on TV. I casually mention that I've never seen it. To my dismay, he wants to watch it and says it's the best movie ever. No one in the world dislikes this movie, blah blah. (For the record, I wanted to watch First Knight but was told that it sucked... sending me into a tyrade. First Knight is AWESOME!)
Eat that Belushi! You were wrong. He tried to say that The Ladybugs was horrible, but I beg to differ. That movie was freaking awesome. Rodney Dangerfield is a classic. God rest his soul.
So this is a story that I wanted to write down before I forgot it. Alzheimer's runs in my family, folks. Here goes...
Once upon a time, I was working as a production assistant for the TV show 'Sordid Lives: The Series.' Yeah, I was a big shot Hollywood film industry broad. Production Assistant = everyone's bitch. I had to fix people's coffee and bagels and play on the internet to appear busy so that I wouldn't be called on to do such tasks. So, one day, my boss Roy asks me and the other two PA's "Which one of you wants to work on Sunday?" Susana piped up "I have something to do that day," and Nancy added in "I'm going out of town." I crouched behind my computer screen to hopefully go unnoticed. "Kate, Congratulations!" he says. I was pissed.
So, he goes on to say that I had to pick up Olivia Newton-John from her hotel and take her to a recording studio so she could record some tracks for the show. Ok... now I was less pissed. I asked him if he thought it would be a big deal if I showed up with Gladpys:
He said a flat out no. I don't know why. I mean Gladpys is a classy broad. Anyway, he rents me a sweet minivan and tells me to pick her up at Sam's Town at 9AM.
Well, Sunday rolls around and at some point between Friday and then I became deathly ill with the Shrevebola. (This is basically the cold/flu/chest infection that every Shreveport resident gets roughly twice a year.) So, on Saturday I stocked up on Cold-eeze, Tylenol Flu, Mucinex, basically the whole cold/flu aisle at CVS and am medicated and ready to go on Sunday.
I pull up to the valet area of Sam's Town in the Chrysler Town and Country and wait. Ok, should I go in? Ok, I should go in. So I go in and tell the front desk people who I'm waiting on and I go sit down. At this point, I'm thinking, I should have researched what this chick looks like. Last time I remember, she looked like this:
Well, needless to say, she looks NOTHING like that now thanks to the Gods of plastic surgery. So this lady (her) comes out and sits on the opposite couch from me and appears to be waiting. I just sit there like a dumbass b/c what if it isn't her. So finally after she paces back and forth a few times, I say "Are you Olivia?" (such an idiot) and she replies 'Yes.' So we go to the van and off we go. At this point I wasn't sure if I should turn on the radio. I mean, what would she listen to? Does she like Easy Listening? Country? Top 40? I sit quietly and choose nothing. Thank God that she had an assistant with her and they chatted the whole time.
We get to the recording studio and I discover that there is another girl I know there (THANK GOD) and we put out snacks and settle in for some sitting and waiting. All of a sudden, Olivia's drunk sister Rona arrives. She was nice, but right off the bat she says: "Honey could you make us some Bloody Marys?" "Sure, I'll be right back."
(Keep in mind that I am constantly going in and out blowing my nose, coughing, sneezing, catching the snot running down my face, etc. yet trying to keep this on the downlow).So I approach my friend Liz and tell her the deal and she says, "But we're out of vodka." I say "Where are we supposed to get vodka on a Sunday?" You can't buy hard liquor in Shreveport on Sundays, I learned. So after about 30 minutes of brainstorming where we can get the forbidden fruit, I called a friend and Praise the Lord, they had a bottle of vodka at home. Crisis averted.
Long story short, well not really, but back to it... around 10PM I took Olivia back to her hotel. I eavesdropped into her conversation and learned that Chloe (the daughter who appeared shortly thereafter on some VH1 reality show about children of famous singers) was off in California vacationing and is going to Australia soon with her boyfriend. Rona is working on her tell-all book (and has been for 10+ years. If she'd put down the sauce, maybe she'd get that thing finished.) So I pull up to Sam's Town and they get out, thank me for the ride, and that was the last I ever saw of Olivia.
Moral of the Story: Always have a vodka reserve on hand. You never know when you might need it.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
One of my favorite hangouts in the world is known as the ever classy Tiki Tavern (not to be confused with the Tiki Bar). When a person steps through those doors on a Friday evening, they should have already prepared themselves for some sort of show. If not a drag queen who calls herself 'LaTina Turner', then the antics of Jim Pittman (the karaoke ringleader) are enough entertainment for the weekend.
This Friday I met these friends there:
(I hung out with the two humans, not the dog). So as we are sitting there amongst the regulars, John and Rex Rupert, in walks the spitting image of Scott Baio:
(I apologize for the blurriness and the bright light... I wasn't using a flash for nonchalant purposes, folks). For most of the evening, I only had the back view. It wasn't until he had a few drinks that I got this:
He was getting very handsy/feelsy with this lady in the pink. At this point, he had a Javier Bardem thing going on. For the rest of the evening, Claire, Eric and myself watched the show. There was butt grabbing, making out and I'm pretty sure there was a lesbian who was waiting in the wings getting very, very jealous. At one point, Scott Baio was petting the hair of said lesbian and Claire and I were caught laughing. So, lady in the pink comes over to me and says and I quote:
"Never in your life have you had a man touch you as gentle as he does." Wow. Necessary? So, she continues unwelcomed and tells me a story of how last weekend some girls came up to herself and Scott and asked if he was the guy on Myspace who is all in spandex. (I'm thinking WHAT?!?!?!?!? the whole time.) So, over the course of this 'pow-wow' with "Lady In Pink" I learned that Scott was 53 and according to her, had 'Abs of Steel' and his real name was Philip. Too much information.
Well after I had my fill of people watching, John and Rex took me home. As soon as I stepped through the threshold, I got on Myspace of course. Behold:
Just a little teaser:
You are welcome, Shreveport. You are welcome.
Friday, April 24, 2009
A co-worker and I were conversing just the other day and she dropped the word 'lackadaisical' in a sentence. I thought to self: 'Wow!!! That is a word that I would love to put in my vocabulary.' So, I've been thinking and thinking of how I would casually throw it into a conversation...
without interest, vigor, or determination; listless; lethargic: a lackadaisical attempt.
lazy; indolent: a lackadaisical fellow.
If you told me a year ago that I would still be dating this man, I would have laughed in your face:
John Belushi and I have been in an on-again, off-again relationship for 10+ years. Hard to believe, but yes, we finally got together and surprisingly we haven't killed each other. All jokes aside, he's precious and I wouldn't trade this past year for the world. I love you, honey!
I guess that's one of the drawbacks of being a fair-skinned redhead. Anytime that I get flustered or drunk, or embarrassed, it shows up right there on my face in the form of two red streaks on my cheeks. I mean, you can't have it all, right?
NOW, when I have had or am about to have too much, instead of just having a 'Sexy Flush', I start to ask questions that are so dumb. Lately, my question is: "How do you feel about navy?" I ask this question to close female friends of mine that I would consider being in my imaginary wedding party. Why? Why, does this happen? The latest victim was Sass, bless her heart.
She's so precious! How appropriate for her to actually be wearing navy in this photo. She's a girl after my heart I tell you. Anyway, last night we gathered for a toddy and the longer we visited, like clockwork, the question came out. She says she likes navy. So that's good. Because she's gonna have to wear it one day in the form of a bridesmaid dress that she won't be able to wear again. I'm not going to lie to people. No you can't shorten it and wear it as a cocktail dress. That is the biggest bunch of bullcrap I've ever heard.
Whoa, what just happened? I think I just went off on brides when I was supposed to be talking about how great vodka tonics are.... Sorry brides, I'm a little crabby today. Happy Friday!
Thursday, April 23, 2009
This afternoon while at work and enjoying my 48th game of Solitaire for the day (it's harder than it looks, folks), I was listening to my Pandora. If you haven't heard of Pandora.com, you should quickly open a new tab and check that out. It's internet radio where you can put in an artist and it will play that artist along with artists who are similar or have similar musical qualities. You have the option to "Thumbs Up" songs if you like them or "Thumbs Down" if you think they are crap (careful, you can only "Thumbs Down" so many things in an hour, or you get punished and are forced to listen to stuff you don't like.... which is bullcrap, but whatever).
This entry is inspired by the most domestic: Kristen Blair. I would say that I'm not very well versed when it comes to cooking. I would also say that when I do get a wild hair and decide to make something at home, I usually do a Google search and find the least complicated recipe possible. That would be where I found this little spicy number:
Taco Soup (looks like vomit, tastes like heaven):
1 lb ground beef
2 cans whole kernel corn (drained or undrained if you want it to be soupier)
2 cans Mexican style tomatoes
2 cans Ranch style beans
1 pkg Ranch mix
1 pkg taco seasoning
Cook ground beef and drain. Add all ingredients and let simmer for 20 minutes or until it thickens.
The author of the recipe also included this little side note which I avoided:
This dish can also be prepared like a taco salad.
Tortilla chips topped with taco Soup, cheese, lettuce, sour cream and taco sauce or simply eat as a soup with tortilla chips.
Seriously, easiest recipe of all time. And I got to eat on it for about 4 days!
Growing up, we had a cat. Don't ask why. We all hated cats for different reasons. My brother was allergic, Mom hated all the hair everywhere, and I thought they were shady. Nonetheless, one day Keithy brought a cat to the house and it ended up becoming a permanent resident. She looked a lot like this:
We didn't know what to name her because none of us really liked her. We decided that in certain lights she had a blueish tint to her coat, so therefore we named her Blue. Original, I know. (Turns out she came with a different name, but we all thought that Sir Nelson was a little formal and weird, AND Sir Nelson turned out to be a Miss Nelson, thus the name change).
Blue lived with us for about 5 years when Mom came up with the idea that she wanted to build a new house. So Blue and the 4 dogs that we had at the time (My stepdad is a vet, don't judge) moved. Sue decided that Blue shed WAY too much to have her live in the house, so she was banished to the garage. She acted like she always wanted to come inside, but secretly I think she loved it out there. She got to hunt bugs, mice and had numerous adventures to where she would go missing for a few days here and there.
Over the course of her garage life, she lost an eye. So then her name changed from Blue to Blue the One Eyed Cat. At some point I accidentally ran over her with the car when backing out of the garage. I never told my parents that for obvious reasons... then eventually she passed away a few years later. I eventually told Mom, but not Keithy.
So last night, under the influence of a Tylenol PM, Blue came to me in a dream. It was very surreal because in the dream, I lived at the house in Ruston that I lived for 2 years. There were all of these cats wanting to come inside the house, and Blue was one of them. (I called her simply Blue because in this dream, she had both eyes). She seemed to be trying to tell me something.... then my phone rang in real life and woke me up. I wish I could have been asleep just a little bit longer in case she had something important to tell me.
Oh well. I'm just glad to know that when she went to heaven, she got her other eye back.
Wednesday, April 22, 2009
Beginning about a month or so ago, The Cub (home of the best steak in the world as well as the best au gratin potatoes) started offering Burgers on the Patio Wednesdays.
I heard about this from someone on Facebook and decided that it was up to me to figure out if the burgers were as good as the steak. So my friend Mark (Thanks for the photo), Laura and I checked it out today. Those burgers are super delicious! And they are super cheap! For $7 (not including tip) you can get a dressed burger, chips, baked beans and a beverage (soda, though I saw SEVERAL people there with beers... which makes me think to self: "What do these people do for a living to where their employer allows them to drink on the job?" followed up with, "Must be nice!"). To me, that is a deal! Plus, you get to sit on the patio with a nice breeze, friends and regulars that you are sure to have seen at the Cub during any regular evening.
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Last month I went to a wedding. As the groom is getting up to sing karaoke I take out my digital camera that I have had for four months. I turn it on and a message flashes on the screen: "Zoom Error." No big deal. I turn it off, turn it back on: "Zoom Error." I look at John in distress. So I take out the battery, memory card, blow into the empty compartments, try to pry the lens open, hit the menu button and thumb through all of the options. Nothing. "Zoom Error." I was pissed to the point of shedding a tear. John told me not to worry, we will get it fixed when we get back home and to have another beer. Fine. I didn't get to take ANY pictures at the wedding. Sigh.
So we get back home and we Google Fuji Finepix J150w and see what the deal is. We write off to a fix it website only to hear that we have to pay for a subscription blah blah. Yeah right. I give up. I started researching prices for new digital cameras. I was so frustrated and disappointed that this happened. I mean, I had the thing for 4 MONTHS! AND I kept it it's protective case the whole time.... whatever.
So last night I decide to give it one last try. I do the same Google search that I did before adding the words "Zoom Error." This time a different website comes up where people have written in their problems and other people write in and try to help. On my camera, and most Fuji cameras actually, this was a common problem.
One user suggested something that I thought was the dumbest thing I've ever heard of. He called it the "Telephone Book Trick." Meaning that you slam your camera (lens down) repeatedly against a telephone, or other hard object. No way am I going to do this. So I keep searching. One person recommended unscrewing things and basically disassembling the camera and getting a can of air and cleaning the whole thing out. Like I could figure out how to put it back together....
So I go back to the "Telephone Book Trick" that the first guy was talking about. It seemed that 30 or more people on this site eventually tried it as a last resort and it made their cameras work. I thought to self, well I'm going to have to end up buying a new camera anyway since this piece of crap is a piece of crap so I tried it.
First, I slammed it against the coffee table. No luck. Then I slammed it against the kitchen counter. No luck. Then I thought, well this is going to break it... so I slammed it against the ceramic tile. It seemed to want to turn on... I had a visual of something on the screen. So I slammed it on the floor again. A little bit more of a picture on the screen. Then slam, slam, slam, slam, slam against the palm of my hand and THE THING TURNED ON!!!!!!
I'm still in shock. Who knew?
Monday, April 20, 2009
After giving this answer, the media, gays, lesbians, and the pageant world is pissed off. My question is why?
She gave an answer for how she believes, however no one will accept it. It's interesting to me that the people who oppose her answer want people to accept how they believe... Why can't they practice what they preach? It's frustrating that when this topic was put to a vote in Prejean's home state of Califorina via Prop 8, a majority of the state (at 52%) voted against gay marriage.
I understand that homosexuals want the same rights as heterosexuals, but when it is put to a vote and opposed, there isn't much more that they can do. Why crucify this girl for not only being in the majority of California's views, but standing behind what she believes?
Well, this weekend I was hanging out at John's house with he and his roommate James and they mentioned that tickets for the U2 concert were going on sale Monday morning at 10AM. They were both trying to figure a way to be able to be online at that exact time. Neither of them were able to so I volunteered myself to purchase tickets for them. So starting this morning at 8AM, I began getting ticket buying tips. One was 'be online at 9:50 and be logged into your account and just start hitting refresh'. So, that's exactly what I did. And I GOT TICKETS! Yay!
We are going October 12th (it's a Monday) in Dallas (technically Arlington). We have General Admission floor seats, meaning that we can get as close to Bono and The Edge as we want. I'm really excited! I never thought I would be able to go to something like this. I've already programmed my Pandora to play U2 songs and like artists. This way I can practice the lyrics that I'm uncertain of as well as familiarize myself with the songs.
PS: Steph, if you are reading this, you MUST come along... Seriously.
Friday, April 17, 2009
I wonder when Beyonce decided to become the next Webster (of the dictionary sect). I heard a song of hers on the radio recently ('Diva') and thought to self, hmmmm... 'This is the dumbest thing I've ever heard.'
In the lyrics she proclaims: "A diva is a female version of a hustler." And then repeats it over and over again to the dismay of my hearing... I wonder where she comes up with her logic.
According to dictionary.com, a diva is:
1. a distinguished female singer; prima donna.
And a hustler is:
|1.||an enterprising person determined to succeed; go-getter.|
|2.||Slang. a person who employs fraudulent or unscrupulous methods to obtain money; swindler.|
|3.||Informal. an expert gambler or game player who seeks out challengers, esp. unsuspecting amateur ones, in order to win money from them: He earned his living as a pool hustler.|
|4.||Slang. a prostitute.|
|5.||a person who hustles.|
I guess if I were as rich and famous as her that I would feel entitled to make up definitions for words and then sing about them too. Sigh... I wonder when the last time Beyonce went to market, bought a bunch of fake Louis Vuitton's and sold them on a markup out of her trunk?
I sort of have a fascination with this Lady Gaga person. Her music is discotheque catchy. I really like her song "Poker Face" (the original version, notsomuch the dance/Phoenix remix). Turns out that it IS NOT about the ridiculous things that John Belushi told me it was about (basically oral sex), however it IS about her having sex with a guy and fantasizing about a girl, thus having a 'Poker Face.' Good for her, I guess.
So, again she's fascinating in more ways than one. Especially the decisions she makes regarding her wardrobe. See for yourselves:
In this photo she is wearing something kooky, but not soooo kooky that it looks like she is off the rocker. I would even go as far to say that this is fashion forward and original. Then we have this:
Ok. She isn't wearing pants. It's hard to classify if this is or isn't slutty for two reasons.
1. It's not like it's a thong or even a bikini cut onesie. They're granny panties, therefore her ass as well as her girly bits are covered.
2. I read in an interview that she doesn't wear pants or sleeves (so basically a swimsuit onesie) AND she has her hair dyed platinum because her grandmother is legally blind. So apparently she can only see Gaga while performing if her legs, arms and hair are all exposed. This makes sense so maybe she isn't all that batshit crazy, right?
Is this a, SHEER PANTSUIT? I guess the pre-concieved notions regarding her sanity are now officially out the window.
Some things just never cease to make me laugh:
I just read somewhere that all this time Super Greg is portrayed by Sasha Baron Cohen. If you have never had the joy of experiencing the class that is, Super Greg, please visit this link:
There's something happening this weekend in Shreve that I'm really excited about. That being the Tournees French Film Festival at the Robinson Film Center. John Belushi accuses me of only liking films with subtitles (because I love Amelie and Pans Labyrinth) so this is right up my alley! The Robinson has a great facility and I hope that there is a big turnout this weekend. I'm planning on seeing "The Diving Bell and the Butterfly" Below is the schedule of shows in case someone wants to join me!
The Diving Bell and the Butterfly (PG-13)
(Le Scaphandre et le Papillon)
Friday, April 17, 7:45 PM
Sunday, April 19, 5:45 PM
Monday, April 20, 7:55 PM
Thursday, April 23, 5:30 PM
Blame it on Fidel! (NR)
(La faute a Fidel!)
Friday, April 17, 3:45 PM
Saturday, April 18, 8:15 PM
Tuesday, April 21, 5:30 PM
Wednesday, April 22, 5:30 PM
Saturday, April 18, 5:45 PM
Sunday, April 19, 8:10 PM
Tuesday, April 21, 7:50 PM
The Last Mistress (R)
(Une vieille maitresse)
Saturday, April 18, 10:15 PM
Monday, April 20, 5:30 PM
Thursday, April 23, 7:50 PM
Flight of the Red Balloon (NR)
(Le Voyage du ballon rouge)
Saturday, April 18, 3:15 PM
Sunday, April 19, 3:15 PM
Wednesday, April 22, 7:30 PM
Family Friendly Showcase:
The Red Balloon & White Mane (G)
Saturday, April 18, 1:30 PM
Sunday, April 19, 1:30 PM
Thursday, April 16, 2009
I read this information from a blog elsewhere (link below) and thought it was interesting enough to repost. Enjoy!
Have you ever wondered why Coke comes with a smile? It’s because it gets you high. They took the cocaine out almost a hundred years ago. You know why? It was redundant.
- In The First 10 minutes: 10 teaspoons of sugar hit your system. (100% of your recommended daily intake.) You don’t immediately vomit from the overwhelming sweetness because phosphoric acid cuts the flavor allowing you to keep it down.
- 20 minutes: Your blood sugar spikes, causing an insulin burst. Your liver responds to this by turning any sugar it can get its hands on into fat. (There’s plenty of that at this particular moment)
- 40 minutes: Caffeine absorption is complete. Your pupils dilate, your blood pressure rises, as a response your livers dumps more sugar into your bloodstream. The adenosine receptors in your brain are now blocked preventing drowsiness.
- 45 minutes: Your body ups your dopamine production stimulating the pleasure centers of your brain. This is physically the same way heroin works, by the way.
- 60 minutes: The phosphoric acid binds calcium, magnesium and zinc in your lower intestine, providing a further boost in metabolism. This is compounded by high doses of sugar and artificial sweeteners also increasing the urinary excretion of calcium.
- 60 Minutes: The caffeine’s diuretic properties come into play. (It makes you have to pee.) It is now assured that you’ll evacuate the bonded calcium, magnesium and zinc that was headed to your bones as well as sodium, electrolyte and water.
- 60 minutes: As the rave inside of you dies down you’ll start to have a sugar crash. You may become irritable and/or sluggish. You’ve also now, literally, pissed away all the water that was in the Coke. But not before infusing it with valuable nutrients your body could have used for things like even having the ability to hydrate your system or build strong bones and teeth.
This will all be followed by a caffeine crash in the next few hours. (As little as two if you’re a smoker.) But, hey, have another Coke, it’ll make you feel better.
As I was perusing my Facebook earlier this morning, I came across a photo of a friend's child. (I decided to be nice and NOT post the photo for obvious reasons.) I've come to the realization that some people put bows in their daughters' hair as infants because they are concerned that strangers may think that the child is a male. Or maybe they do it because they want their daughter to be super girly. This is fine. However, I feel that there should be some size guidelines drafted for acceptable headgear. Behold:
One of my favorite things is reminiscing with old friends. Last night, my roommate Nance, and one of my best friends since second grade, The Mark Crawford (voted Senior Class Favorite) got together and visited at Copeland's of New Orleans. We decided that we were celebrating the end of Tax Season. Nance made a good point about why the restaurant was nearly empty: "It makes no sense to have an overpriced Cajun chain restaurant in a town full of rednecks that can make all this stuff themselves at home... and better." Well played, Nance. Below you will find a photo taken with Mark's phone (hence the blurriness... although this could have been an operator error).
So we sat around the table in this nearly empty restaurant telling Nance stories of high school when we were robbed of Most Humorous, about how ridiculous and slutty some of our friends were and still are, amongst many other topics.
I had a few drinks... (It was Happy Hour!) and they were delicious! They were called Pontchartrain Beach Martinis! I highly recommend them for a fun evening of catching up.
This gathering made me think about all of the people in my life that I love. I have a great family and friends and sometimes I don't show that to them. This past year and a half has been difficult on me and my stress level due to an unsteady job with unreliable income and it seems that I have taken this out on the people that I love. Unintentionally, I've started to alienate myself and withdraw from things that I enjoy doing. So... thank you Tax Day for bringing this to my attention. Starting now, I am going to be a better friend. I want to be a person that my loved ones can depend on.
Thanks Tax Day (or the IRS?) for enlightening me!
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
Well I started this blog at the insistence of a friend, so here goes.... I work at this new job. Most of my day entails me checking facebook, the stock market, planning my imaginary wedding, and pretending to be busy simultaneously.
So, my boyfriend John Belushi, mentions yesterday that he wants to go to London next year for a football game. (For the record, he is a football and soccer FANATIC. This stresses me out a lot due to the fact that I couldn't give a damn). I said that if I go all the way to London, I am not going to a football game. He acts like there is NOTHING to do in London, other than to go to this game. Men. London has architecture, museums, guards with furry hats that do not move, palaces, a QUEEN. Why would I want to forfeit all of that to go sit in the cold with a bunch of drunks with their bad teeth and fume? Men....