Big Mouth Part ? (oh hell, I've lost count)

Today at work I described one of my projects to a co-worker like this: The right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing and I suspect the left hand is flipping us off.
Boy, will I be glad when this one is over. Sheesh.

To Tell The Truth

Six years ago when I was a newbie at my current employer, a co-worker showed me photos of his two children. They were doe eyed little angels with olive skin and dark brown hair and marvelous to behold. I told him, and it was the truth, that they were two of the most adorable children I had ever seen. They were.
In the mean time, he moved on to another area and we really haven't had much of an opportunity to connect. So, the other day I happened to wander by his office and thought I would stop in. He wasn't there, but front and center on his desk was a big photo of his two children- now around 10 and 12 years old. Each had a nearly complete uni-brow, teeth bigger than their face and a serious case of awkward preteen-ness that rivaled the ugly duckling phase I went through as a kid. And, horrible me, all I could think was "Oh my god, I am so glad he's not here." Considering how beautiful he and his wife both are, I am certain that given 5 or 6 more years these two will be the radiant head cheerleader and strapping captain of every sport in school. Until then, I will pretend I never saw this picture until he shows it to me himself and I can say, truthfully, "Oh they've grown so much" without being specific about what it is they've grown.

Two Completely Unrelated Things

1. So, do you want to hear my big news from the cabin this weekend? Here it is. Curt and I were leaving for a walk and we saw an Eastern Towhee in a pine tree near the detached garage. That isn't my picture above, but that is what we saw. Very exciting for me. For you? Maybe not so much.

Lately, I imagine it is a little challenging to have a reasonable conversation with me outdoors. I'm forever distracted by each movement in the trees and my head flops from side to side just to catch sight of whatever little critter is making the branches move. Our poor neighbor Dino and the story he was in the middle of were victims of a Baltimore Oriole on Saturday. My undivided attention to Curt fell victim several times to two Chipping Sparrows and lots of Tree Swallows. Curt is even getting in to the act and interrupted me to point out a male Bluebird this weekend.

No matter how often I see these birds or other wildlife, I never get tired of them and am continually amazed to have the opportunity to view them. I have seen thousands of deer in my life and still slow down to observe each of them as I pass in my car and think to myself how incredible it is that something so big and elegant lives wild all around us. Curt is pretty much the same way. We're both pretty fascinated by virtually every wild animal we see and rarely fail to point them out and call them by name. "Black squirrel!" "Wild Turkey!" "Coyote!" "Woodpecker!"

This little identification game doesn't stop at living animals either. Oh no. If it isn't flattened beyond recognition, one or the other of us will typically call out the roadkill by name and, being the softies that we are, will feel a little sad. Depending on the weekend, a trip up to the cabin can feel like a long funeral. So, anyway, to all my furry and feathered friends, I appreciate you, enjoy your squeaks, squeals and songs and advise you all to look both ways before crossing the street. Enough on that topic.

2. Really unrelated to the first topic is my recent awareness of a new country singing sensation who calls herself Lady Antebellum. Huh. Does this sort of piss anyone else off? I'm guessing she's not referring to the time before the Gulf War is she? No. She is pandering to the redneck, confederate flag waving, racist Bubbas and trying to cash in on that lingering sentiment in the deep south that things were somehow better before the Civil War- like when you could OWN SLAVES!! What the hell is that about? Her stage name should be offensive enough for clearly ripping off Lady Gaga, but becomes truly revolting for carrying on the mindset that things were better when black folks "knew their place." Yuck. The puzzling thing is that I have yet to see her perform in a plantation style hoop skirt, although that would probably cover up her tattoo that reads "Bring me my grits, Prissy." I'm just speculating on the tattoo, but nothing would surprise me from this moron.

Another Fascinating Day

Okay, that title was just meant to get you here. My day actually couldn't have been more ordinary. Here's some of what happened.

So, this morning I'm in line at the coffee bar in the employee cafeteria behind some unknown co-worker who is putting her cream and sugar in her coffee. I had finished filling my cup and was waiting for her to wrap things up when she does the strangest thing. Well, it wasn't the strangest thing because that might have been something like pulling miniature horse in a tutu out of her bag, kissing it on the rump and trotting it around in a figure 8 while singing 'Love To Love You Baby.' Perhaps what she did was better described as just odd. What she did is she grabbed a coffee lid and set it down in front of me while I'm waiting there. I don't take it for two reasons. One, I'm not ready to lid my coffee just yet. I've got some goodies to put in there before I do that. And, two, yuck. Big effing yuck. I don't want some stranger who's hands may have just come from caressing some hobo's genitals touching something that I am going to be putting to my lips in a few moments. That's disgusting. Anyway, she finishes her business and looks at the lid, looks at me and says "Fine. You don't want it. That's great," grabs the lid and PUTS IT BACK IN THE STACK OF LIDS. Ugh. Now she's touched it twice and had I had a blow torch to sanitize the stack of lids I would have used it and maybe taken her out in the process. So, as I am envisioning her doing a stop, drop and roll to extinguish herself, all I could say was "But I have things to put in my coffee." Lame.

This afternoon I was waiting in a meeting room for my boss to arrive when I see her standing outside the room chatting rather intensely with a V.P. She's facing me and the V.P. has his back to me. So, I take the opportunity to try to break her composure by leaning back in my chair and raising my eyebrows at her. I can tell she sees me in her peripheral vision, so I proceed. I lean back a little further in my chair, bug my eyes out and lift my eyebrows up and down. At this point, she is doing everything in her power not to be distracted by me. So, I lean even further back in my chair, make a face and the damn chair's tilt mechanism comes undone sending me falling backwards. I catch my fall and pull upright in my chair, but not before another co-worker has entered the meeting to witness my fall and graceful recovery. Both he and my boss were quite amused. Instant karma. It's a bitch.

Enough for now. Kirelimel, can you still see the lips?

She Calls 'Em Like She Sees 'Em

Recently in our employee cafeteria they replaced the open garbage can at the coffee bar- intended to hold cream & sugar empties and stir sticks- with a foot operated, lidded garbage can about three steps away from the coffee bar. Kind of a pain in the butt, really. So, today, I grab my second cup of coffee, mix in my goodies, walk the three steps, press down with my foot, deposit my Splenda empties, go back three steps, put on my lid and go to the check out.

Here's how it went from there:

Me: Have I told you that I don't really care for the new foot operated garbage can over there?

Checkout Gal: Why? Because you have to use your foot on it?

Me: Well, yes, and it is three steps away from the coffee bar.

Checkout Gal: You're pathetic.

This is not...

... a triumphant return to blogging. Oh no. I just wanted to say a few things too lengthy for FB, which, by the way, has ruined the blogging lives of many.

1. A couple of weeks back, a Dead or Alive song came on the radio during which Curt and I pondered what ever became of the lead singer. He was sort of freaky sexy and a little androgynous in way that made us both kind of curious about him.

Here he was then:

Well, folks, brace yourselves. Here he is now:

I guess we can't really call him androgynous any more, can we? I wonder if he can still sing.

2. So, Republicans are going after President Obama for appearing not to respond to the BP sponsored oil disaster quickly enough. This is their version of payback for the criticism of the Bush administration for shopping for shoes during Hurricane Katrina. Well, let's be clear about something shall we? Hurricane Katrina was a devastating natural disaster for which the ONLY response was to begin mobilizing relief and rescue when you could see the damn thing bearing down on New Orleans on radar for several days prior to the actual event. The BP oil spill is a BUSINESS DISASTER that is quickly becoming an environmental and economic disaster. The correct response on the part of BP is first to tell the truth about the severity of the spill, second to be really, really, really contrite about having NO acceptable level of preparation for an event of this kind and third quit sending around your flunkies with offers of checks for $5000 to fishing boat owners if they sign away their right to sue. Now Republicans think the government should bear the responsibility for this business disaster? Are you fecking kidding me?

3. One word to the guy in the 5th floor men's room (the most disgusting place on earth next to the restroom at Godfather's Pizza in Golden Valley) who was making some serious grunting noise today: FIBER.

4. To the woman who stopped the salad bar line twice today to hold impromptu meeting scheduling sessions with your sycophantic interns who just don't know better: Next time, lady, you get whacked with the tongs. I mean it.

5. The amazing Mr. John is mid-stream on the cabin remodeling and I can barely contain my excitement. We're going up this weekend to paint the kitchen and fill up the new cabinets. Our first guest of honor this year will be..... Ruthie! Hooray. (No making that face, Ruth.) Make your reservations now.