Let Me Just Put on My Introspectacles for a Minute Here…

My afternoon meal today was a straight-up callback-to-smellementary-school (remember the first time you smelled BO in 3rd or 4th grade? I do. How about farts? No? Nothing? I don’t mean your own!) cafeteria lunch. The entree was slimy noodles, liquified tomato paste, and faux-ground round, and you had to peel back plastic and nuke sufficiently to get to it. I feel proud and slightly self-conscious, but mostly proud. I ate it by myself in an empty room without looking up…just like old times!

An all-ages treat!
photo courtesy of Flickr and foundphotoslj


I realized this inconclusive characteristic about myself today. Whenever someone makes eye contact with me in a hallway coming the other way, I routinely grin but I try to hold the smile and then fade it slowly (on my own time because I’m considerate) after we’ve passed each other.

Otherwise you get the compulsory flash-smile that suddenly shifts into the default grimace-frown, which reeks of fake boobiness (people being fake boobies, not real fake breasts. On second thought, real fake breasts sounds weird but you know what I mean). Also holding the smile makes you feel weirdly better about yourself and your honorable intentions with the world that day.

I also realized I immediately look at the ground after making eye contact with people as if to reacquaint myself with my position in the world. The way peasants would look down in the presence of royalty! I’m a real toegazer. And I don’t even paint my toenails so it’s not for aesthetic reasons. My toes are functional but they’re not supermodels.

I’m going to try to look up instead from now on…at the sky! And wink at some stars or clouds. For your information, we have some inside jokes, the sky and I. I think the ground and I have even more though, but here’s to deepening friendships with inanimate objects. In my new attempts at social climbing, the sky will be the limit (literally)! I’m afraid people might think I’m rolling my eyes though. Ah well, one must make sacrifices for self-esteem!


My sister is here for one night AND one night only (on loan from the other side of the world)! She has a long list of demands, and requires me to play the part of the earnest chauffeur all around and around we go. Hopefully, on the way, there will be some catch-up time. Between Barnes & Borders and Java the Hut, perhaps we can squeeze in a few cheek kisses and head pats. Best Buy is so unromantic for familial reunions. Oh, you need another plastic seat cover? Let me wrap it up in my current life journeys.

This is pure delight (there are seven other parts to watch if you need more):

(Via Will)

And forgive me because I might not say it everyday but love you and miss you, Alice.

Gimme a Break (Room)!

The items that are up for grabs in our office kitchen are getting weirder and weirder.

Today when I entered said kitchen to peel an old, dried up orange, this is the sight that met my eyes (but did not meet them halfway―to be fair to reality):

  • An empty plastic container that, at the prime of its life, used to be full of Biscotti. However the lid was screwed on tight as if to say, “The goodies are gone, but the vessel is still ripe for the pillaging!
  • A basket containing one unopened 6-pack of regular-size Hershey milk chocolate bars, one pint of Half & Half, and some sort of a cleaning/cooking rag. Offensive.
  • Three supersized Pixy Stix. Nobody should consume anything of this size at work. Especially if said item is just concentrated sugar.
  • A small blue bucket full of raw peanuts (still in shells). No. Unacceptable.
  • Sad proof below…

    Giant Pixy Stik up-close:

    Giant Pixy Stik in all its glory: O rly, coworkers?! I know it’s finally Friday, but sheesh. Dropping red flags like these right before the weekend is just unnecessarily cruel.

    Anyway, it’s time to eat my geriatric citrus snack.

    UPDATE!!! The basket with the Half & Half and chocolate were actually not up for the taking! They were just part of a fondue assembly kit, and the basket has since been replaced with a tray of delectable strawberries and raspberries escorted by a earthernware pot of still-warm chocolate goo.

    The raw peanut bucket, however, still remains untouched. (Where did it even come from? Someone’s fever dream that happened to take place at an absurdist baseball game between Team Accounting and Team Sales?)

    More Power to My House (Please)!

    So there was a summer storm yesterday—the first of many I’m sure. In fact, I’m pretty confident about that statement (global warming asks: Is that a challenge?). Anyway, it led to a power outage, and a pretty massive one at that.

    I was driving to a comedy show slightly after the worst of the weather, and all I saw along the way were candles in windows. It felt very old timey, especially the trees strewn every which way in the road. That’s a straight 1700s callback, yo! I felt like Paul Revere driving through the town trying to warn the colonials about their impending modernization (I believe in creative liberty and justice for all!).

    The point is, my daddums left me a message on my voicemail (that I listened to on the way back from the show) that went a little like this:

    Hey dude, the power is still out so get something to eat before you come home. There is a flashlight that you can use when you get home but call me first because you’re not going to be able to find it because it’s dark here. In fact, you’re probably not going to be able to do much of anything.

    (I would like to imagine he left this message by candlelight while stitching his own version of the U.S. flag.)

    How romantic!
    photo courtesy of Flickr and Peter Becker

    The significant otro and I got coffee this morning. That’s right; the boyfie is debuting on the internetwork. You will learn more about him as life continues, as it is wont to do. Anyway, he requested the coffee to be super sweet. And guess what? The coffee was super sweet. We got customer served. In fact, I’ve been semi-irresponsibly nursing it since this morningtide. It’s so sweet that it’s hard to even talk about it without rubbing my tongue over my teeth to make sure they’re not decaying faster than the half-life of uranium isotopes (giggle, snort). I might add water, which is a first for my coffee-related endeavors.

    In sad news, I made one of the worst lunches ever today. Probably in my top five worst lunch choices of my life (and that includes string cheese salad). I will spare the details. But hot tomato soup and cold tofu? No.

    Unhand me, vile flavors!
    photo courtesy of Flickr and Photo Mojo

    Reporting from the Couch Reflecting on the Road

    i’ve raised the bar too high and wide

    Unforgivable. Only four blog posts in February so far. Unspeakable.

    *gurgle slurrrp*

    That’s the sound of the Internet sucking up unused and dusty domain space.

    Check out these sad abandoned Geocities pages, like remnants of an old civilization. Actually, there is no link. That was a trick. I couldn’t even find any old Geocities pages. The only clear artifact that came up when I googled Geocities pages was someone’s bibliography on their paper on the history of rape. Google, tsk tsk. There’s no need to get fresh with those that came before you. For an even bigger gasp, remember Angelfire? How can you not? Take a gander here, but wear sunglasses and make sure you’re past puberty. Pink on pink was actually a weapon used in ancient warfare, and can singe your eyes off.

    The truth is I’ve been traveling. It might as well be an illegal move in basketball because it has led to a few tiny mind complexes but even more big, strong bodybuilders of ideas. That’s the problem with getting out of town. You suddenly get inspired and foolhardy, and see the world as one big oyster metaphor.

    Take Lewis and Clark for example. Not the indie garage duo, the old-timey adventurer-explorers! They got going westward, and inspired the whole East Coast-West Coast hip hop rivalry that peaked in the mid-90s. I headed west as well. I was in LA last week. City of Angels, son. I took quite a gander to the place. It gets a bad rep for various reasons, but I like it. It’s sunny. It’s money. It’s oh, honey! It’s phunny (even funnier than funny). For Pete & Pete’s sake, people dress up like trees there and no one minds! (see last post)

    my eyes! my eyes!

    I got to stay with my friend in comedy and life Hari Leigh at her artists’ compound. Well, sort of. Her roommate is also a comedian, and the animal residents are free spirits. Bukowski the frenetic puppy and Bill Murray the rebellious but gentle adolescent cat. Oh the times we had. It was amazing enough having a rent-a-car with a mouthy GPSass Machine, but LA is just chock-full of food-centric experiences including (caution: incoming bullets), but first Bukowski:

    • a flooded neighborhood street, and a tide of questionable water coming in through the open car windows like in a commercial for…Tide.
    • eating delicious veggie-friendly Italian food at a restaurant named Masa (no I don’t know why it’s called that), and having a waiter who would only acknowledge the boobier of us two ladies (i.e., not me) the entire evening to the point where he put both dessert forks on my friend Hari’s side of the plate as if I wasn’t even there! I get it! I am a popular hangout for recessive genes!
    • the brioche french toast at Square One. I still dream about it.
    • eating sushi with Adam and discussing grown-up topics like (gasp!) grown-ups. What kinds of topics? Well, surfing concussions!
    • thinking of a sketch idea with Hari on the night before I had to leave, getting excited, filming it, and ending up in panda/skeleton makeup right before having to perform at a comedy show. It ended up coming off after a split-second decision that may or may not have saved my “career.”
    • thrift store shopping. There are thrift stores all over LA, and identities for sale everywhere!
    • getting to visit some network studios for general meetings, and admiring their office kitchen set ups. One network looked like it was in Narnia.
    • chronicles of aparnia!

    • eating lunch at the Grove with Cissy, an open-air Farmer’s Market and bevy of shops and restaurants where if you lose your parking ticket, you have to pay $15 (I just happen to know that somehow).
    • “hanging” in a cool coffee shop waiting for my friend to get off work and “soaking” up the alternative culture. i was so caffeinated by the time i had to pick her up that the local artwork was shapeshifting.
    • view from a coffeeshop

    • comedy! shows! at! coffee! shops! and! video! stores! and! clubs! and!theatres! some starting at midnight!
    After LA, I went to the NACA national convention in St. Louis, Missouri (code name: wind chill) to perform for college bookers. It was somewhat surreal, and is described in detail at the link at the bottom of the post. The fun parts were trolleying around with the other comedians, and eating. Also I met a lizard there:

    I like to talk about eating. But honestly, that’s how I remember trips. I remember grilled vegetable stack lunch, late night pizza dinner with beer, and then watching Gargoyles at three in the morning, and wondering whether it was worth sleeping before an early morning breakfast, which included Seckel pears (disappointing) and cinnamon bun french toast (surpassing expectations). The wind chill in Missouri is so cold that three days later, I still can’t feel my face. That’s all I got, ReCap’n. Over and out.

    To read further about my recent comedy experiences on the road, clickety here.