Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Monday, March 30, 2009
We have hired my brother's best friend, John in our office and today is his first day. Perhaps because I've known him since the beginning of time, John and I have apparently established a rather casual professional relationship.
"Oh my God, did you feel the earthquake?"
"You didn't say anything?"
Oh, I don't know? Maybe because we just had a fucking earthquake?!?! Perhaps I'm the weird one. Our office is one big room and I regard it as my job to have loud public conversations with everyone about current events, earthquakes included. John needs to get with the program. Just because he's the only man in here doesn't mean he's exempt from the 25% of time spent chatting...
Thursday, March 26, 2009
I have to admit, I thought rooms like the one pictured here were Hollywood creations. I mean, this shit actually exists! In Reno! It's not even Vegas. Someone needs to propose to me because I would like my honeymoon to be spent sitting side by side in these luxurious chairs sipping mocktails while watching a roaring fireplace on a TV screen. Actually, this is what I'd like my permanent boudoir to look like, complete with the little dudes holding the spears.
Thank god I don't drink anymore because if I woke up in this joint drunk, I'd completely freak out and start screaming. Or do something wildly inappropriate to the dudes holding the spears. Or I'd wake up and think to myself, "Yeah. This seems about right..."
Wednesday, March 25, 2009
I turned and looked at her.
"Is this the way to 101 North?" She hollered from her PT Cruiser.
"Are you trying to get on the Golden Gate Bridge?"
"Then yeah. Just turn left on Lombard and follow traffic."
She smiled and thanked me and I drove off, unwilling to take on the grave responibility of letting this nut follow me. After turning left and making it halfway down Lombard, I looked over. There was Ms. PT Cruiser with a huge smile on her face giving me the big thumbs up.
I gave her a solid thumbs up back.
I don't have to tell you I suddenly felt like the nicest person ever to walk the Earth. My God, I'm like San Francisco's Ambassador to lost souls. Someone should be paying me for these little gifts my benevolent personality delivers throughout the day. You, world, are welcome.
My self-congratulation lasted a good 10 minutes and then I went back to feeling sick and horrible, but I think we can all learn a valuable lesson from my moment.
Sometimes, providing accruate directions to someone in a stupid car can be a gift not only to them, but one to you as well.*
*Cue Doogie Howser music...
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Monday, March 23, 2009
Saturday, March 21, 2009
No Treasury Department! Don't Do It! Could this woman muster the slightest giggle? Nope. She's too busy washing dogshit off 20's. Obviously, she's getting paid under the table. Why would a physical therapist keep her cash compensation lying around for her idiot dog to eat? Weird. Anyway, she called it a deposit. Ha!
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Beth: This is Beth.
Lady: I must have the wrong number!
Lady: This isn't Moosetree?
Lady: This doesn't make any sense!
Beth: This is (my office number.)
Lady: That's what it SAYS!
Lady: WELL I DIDN'T MAKE IT UP!
Beth: I'M NOT ACCUSING YOU OF MAKING IT UP!
Lady: IT'S RIGHT HERE IN THE YELLOW PAGES!
Beth: WELL THE YELLOW PAGES ARE OBVIOUSLY WRONG!
Lady: WHY WOULD THE YELLOW PAGES BE WRONG?
Beth: MAYBE IT'S BECAUSE NO ONE USES AN ACTUAL PHONEBOOK ANYMORE!
LADY: I PREFER A PHONEBOOK!
BETH: Then I guess sometimes you're going to get the wrong number.
Lindsay Lohan: "She was a wonderful woman and actress and treated me like I was her own."
Dame Judi Dench: "It's just so shocking, really shocking, and I hope that everybody leaves the family quietly to somehow pick up the pieces."
Sam Mendes: "It defies belief that this gifted, brave, tenacious, wonderful woman is gone."
Jane Fonda: "My heart is heavy."
And then of course, John Mayer: "This heart didn't come with instructions."
Oh wait. That was about Jennifer Aniston...
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Today is also a really exciting day because it's Kate's 30th Birthday! Adding to the thrill of my oldest friend turning hella old, it's also Queen Latifa's birthday. Shouldn't we get the day off?
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
I've never seen whatever movie you're referring to, but it isn't unheard of for small towns to have the DA actually go to court. Herrera wouldn't do it because he only deals with civil cases (meaning those cases that aren't criminal) like slip-and-fall, civil rights, and stuff, nothing gross."
I realize I still haven't told you about this crab thing but basically, it was like a big, drunken wedding held at a retirement home and everyone on Earth showed up. Gavin's Chief of Staff didn't know who I was yet seemed kind of ticked I didn't know who he was. Also, he asked me what a blog was, so obviously the Bay Area really is the internet capital of the universe. Way to go, Room 200! I would write some long, sassy report but quite frankly, I now really enjoy Sean Elsbernd and thus, refuse to talk (a lot of) smack. See, Peskin? Just be a nice guy. It's really not that complicated.
Bless him, Elsbernd was telling us about the after party and said, "Spotswood knows where it is! Where'd everyone go in high school?!?!" Um, this is the first time I've ever been invited, Supervisor. I have no idea...
Monday, March 16, 2009
A man's body was discovered in the reeds on the far east side of San Francisco's Lake Merced on Sunday afternoon. The body, spotted by a kayaker, was towed across the lake to a dock, then pulled out of the water by firefighters.
The age and race of the person and the cause of death were unknown Sunday evening. The city medical examiner is expected to do an autopsy on the body today.
Police were not ruling out foul play.
"The body was quite bloated, but with the weather conditions, it is hard to know how long it has been here," said San Francisco Police Capt. Richard Corriea. "There's some story here, we just don't know what it is."
Corriea said the kayaker saw the body about 4 p.m. Sunday and called police. The Fire Department handles water rescues and also was alerted.
Two men who were teaching dragon boating to high school students offered their help in pulling the body from the water.
Although the Fire Department has rescue watercraft, none is stored at Lake Merced, according to department Battalion Chief Lorrie Kalos. But dragon boating teachers Colin Morneau and Nikhil Naidu were nearby with a boatful of high school students and pitched in.
After Morneau and Naidu dropped off their students, several firefighters piled into the dragon boat and rowed across the lake to the body.
"We were happy to help out; someone had to do it," Morneau said.
Once the body was located, firefighters tied a flotation device around the waist and clipped the device to the back of the dragon boat. The body was towed all the way to the boat house on the far west side of the lake and removed from the water.
Kalos commended Morneau and Naidu for their help and said she would recommend them for Fire Department award certificates of merit. They were also invited to Fire Station 19 for dinner.
"Their help made this recovery a lot easier," said Kalos. "We might have done it from the land side, but that would not have been as easy to do."
Obviously, I found this really interesting and couldn't put my finger on what KG was able to brilliantly articulate: "You know what's incredible about that? It focuses more on the guys who pulled the body out and not the fact that there was a body floating in the lake!"
Uh, exactly. Hello? Why was there a dead body in the lake? Does anyone care who it is? This seems like the perfect opportunity for a "murder most foul!" extravaganza. Instead, we get a big song and dance about two dudes who helped drag this anonymous, unimportant, probably no big deal dead body across a lake. They get certificates and dinner at the fire station!
Big whoop. Who's the stiff? And so much for evidence. I mean, why waste time collecting any evidence where this fella was floating when you can drag his corpse all over the lake. Awesome...
Saturday, March 14, 2009
Friday, March 13, 2009
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Immediately, I loved him! I imagine him currently struggling through high school PE and having not one, single, solitary male friend.
And immediately after imaging that, I remembered Link.
I took tap and jazz from Kindergarten through 8th Grade at Happy Feet in Mill Valley and give or take a few girls, we were the same group of 15 for my entire childhood. And in our class, we had one guy.
I'm pretty sure Link was heterosexual and oddly comfortable taking dance with a bunch of girls for years. He used hair product and his father drove a car with a custom horn that he'd honk upon request. Us girls would give each other cootie shots to protect against whatever Link had, which in retrospect was cool confidence, a laid back attitude and comfort in his own skin. A cootie shot consists of making a peace sign with both hands and then placing said peace signs one over the other. A victim of Link walking past would then insert her finger (heh) into the square you'd created, you'd give her finger a squeeze and thus, cootie shot.
It was incredibly lame, made more so by the fact that Link couldn't care less. It's not like he was oblivious. I think he just had karate to go to next.
I had to sit around for hours and watch other classes until my working mother finally picked me up in what seemed like the middle of the night.
Anyway, tonight I watched this dance troupe's one man-dancer and would like to give an internet shout out to Link, whose last name I don't think I ever knew. Well done, sir.
As for the rest of you, I'll have you know that I am still one hell of a tap dancer...
PS: This is also a silent photo response to anyone who ever says to me, "You must love being tall."
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
I did to.
As is tradition, everyone gets a blog on their birthday. The saintly KG is no different. And as I’m reading this book and thinking of KG’s 31st birthday, I remembered that I was with her the first time I got drunk and threw up all over the floor of our friend Ani’s mom’s bathroom. We had to be at least 17, really because that’s when we started hanging out together. Both KG and I were less than popular in high school and both had 4th period free. We were such nerds that we’d worked the system enough to finagle a free period and also arranged for said free period to fall on Underclassmen lunch hour.
KG and I kinda knew each other, mainly because we were both friends with this Ani who held what we regarded as a facist hold over our sad little group. Over this free 4th period, KG and I had found each other and, unable to blend with any Freshman, took to hanging out behind the Commons and bitching about Ani.
One of the many great things about KG is that her house was 3 blocks from campus, unlike mine which was 45 minutes away through bridges and tunnels. I practically lived at her folks’ where we’d order Chinese food and watch X Files marathons. We spent a lot of time at Java Beach, a coffee joint we regarded as our turf. I suspected that as adults, our lives would be a great deal like most episodes of Friends.
KG and I prided ourselves on being weird, in all honestly because we might as well own what everyone else was saying about us anyway. Or at least they would be if they knew who we were. Whenever college majors or career plans came up, which they did constantly at our high school, KG would always say she wanted to be the person that makes balloon animals at Chevy’s. I found this brilliant.
Our friend Brian had a younger brother who went to another high school and had a confidence we didn’t possess. He was able to get his hands on an extra bottle of Seagram’s 7 and hooked us up. Since we never went to any of the “cool” parties, we’d never really had any access to alcohol, which apparently, the entire student body had extensive experience with.
We could quote the entirety of Reservoir Dogs.
So one weekend, we were all spending the night at Ani’s mom’s house and pulled out this bottle of Seagram’s. In my hazy recollection, everyone was too chicken to drink whatever kind of booze Seagram’s is. Everyone except me.
Before I knew it, I drank the whole thing.
The first thing about this night I remember is that my eyes wouldn’t change focus, like a camera panning left to right as opposed to a head. “You guys, I think I’m totally drunk.”
No one seemed to care and I continued to drink. Eventually, I got up and lay down in Ani’s room, occasionally hollering for one of our little group to come and entertain me. As I lay in the dark alone, I could hear them talking. And I could hear KG say, “I think she’s faking it.”
God bless her, KG had no experience with the results of drinking an entire bottle of anything. The next thing I knew, I was attempting to make my way to the bathroom as my friends rolled their eyes.
Which is of course, when all hell broke loose.
Speaking as a relatively experienced drunk, I can tell you something very important I learned that night. At times like this, nothing on Earth feels better than cold, clean tile on your skin.
I barfed, I cried, I laughed, I drifted in and out of consciousness.
And the only person that took care of me was KG, cleaning it all up, wiping my face, tying my hair back, putting me in bed.
That’s a pretty good friend, right? I mean, that shit was gross.
Years later, when I was 25, I had to spend 3 days in the hospital after major surgery (I used to be a man.) All of my friends and family came to visit me and drugged up as I was, I found it exhausting to perk up for each of their visits. “Oh, terrific. Magazines. Thanks.” Then KG showed up at 9am and announced, “I’m just staying here all day so take naps, ignore me, watch TV. I’m not leaving.” I cannot tell you how wonderful it was to hear that. And I cannot tell you that of all of the people in this world, KG was the only one in my hospital room when a nurse came in and announced she’d be removing my catheter.
That’s a pretty good friend, right? I mean, that shit was gross.
Years later, when I was 30 and stuck in rehab, I completed my dreadful 28 days and was beyond proud and relieved that my parents and brother were driving up to watch my graduation and take me home. And as I stood in the middle of a room filled with drunks and junkies, getting sent out into this scary world to fend for myself and stay on the wagon, I looked up at the visitors’ area for a reassuring glace at my family.
And there, right where she belongs, was KG.
That’s a pretty good friend, right? Trust me, that joint was gross.
So Happy Birthday MRS. KATHERINE BARBARA JEAN HAYES GREEN! You are brilliantly funny, incredibly kind, insanely loyal and it would be profoundly impossible for me to ever be half the friend that you have been to me.
I’m three days late. Blame it on that Seagrams’…
Tuesday, March 10, 2009
Monday, March 09, 2009
I love this quote for a couple of reasons. The first is that I'm always interested in prisons, criminals, last meals, last words, etc. The fact that Mr. Grasso chose his final words to complain about his food is really goddamn interesting to me. The second reason I love this quote is because he requested Spaghetti-O's as his last meal. I'm wondering if Spaghetti-O's weren't available and the prison cook didn't feel like running any errands for a convicted murderer or if the chef decided to class up his order and seemingly upgrade it from canned "Eye-talian" food to a glorious taste of the old country. Either way, Thomas was having none of it. Did he eat the O-less spaghetti or refuse it in one last protest? Is there a story behind the Spaghetti-O's, perhaps a last grasp at his lost childhood, a denied meal by an absentee father the moment before he walked out the door for a pack of cigarettes, never to return leading Tommy to pursue a life of crime? And did he order anything else? Dessert maybe? That last question I've found gloriously available on THIS blog.
Saturday, March 07, 2009
Friday, March 06, 2009
This online newspaper just went live today, and in it, in addition to legitimate reporting by brilliant writers like my girl, Eve, I do my cheeseball photo captions. Yay!
Please read, link, love...
PS: I delve further into the fabulous mystery of the Gavin Topless Pizza Picture RIGHT HERE!
Thursday, March 05, 2009
So not only is this actually Gavin, but he's confirming this shit on his Twitter in addition to, you know, POSING TOPLESS FOR PIZZA PARLOR ADS. If anyone's got info on the legitimacy of this glorious piece of pepperoni, Sarah and I are dying to know...
And then, this. This is the best. Heh, actresses...
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
1) My Culture Blog is up!
2) It's not about THIS party, which I'll write about later. Oh, to stand next to my BFF as I finally grace the society pages is both a glorious blessing and hideous curse...