I Got Something to Say!

Man, I love Halloween. To be more specific, I love Halloween candy. I love being an adult and not having to go out in the cold weather to get Halloween candy.

So I went to a Halloween party on Saturday night. Since I’m a firm believer in always looking my sexiest, I decided to go as Jerry Blank from Strangers With Candy. If by sexy, I mean hideous and inappropriate.

I got to wear a fat suit and there was enough hairspray holding up my hair to last me the rest of my life. And my make-up would have been the envy of any drag queen.

I also decided to remain in character for the entire party, which meant that I got to turn everything into a poorly-disguised sexual innuendo. So that was fun and I’m sure wildly appreciated by all the other party-goers. In my defense, they only encouraged me by saying things like, “I had to glue my mustache on,” and “Will someone hold my rum balls?” and “I’m going outside now.” Just begging for my comments, really.

My personal favorite was when I claimed that my lady-bits were as dry as a summer day in Mexico. For the record, this is ABSOLUTELY something Jerry would say. I am nothing if not committed. When I choose a role, I play it for all its worth, regardless of the disgusted looks on people’s faces.

I also discovered that my fat-suit provided a ready-made shelf to hold my drinks. That’s right, I could place the beer on my padded stomach. Gave me a new appreciation for a man with a nice beer belly.

Uh, not really.

But I did win for “Best Popular Culture Reference.” I like to win because, as Mr. Noblet says, no one is friends with a failure.

No one.

Happy Halloween.

Vertically-challenged

Damn, sometimes I forget how smooth and graceful I am. Luckily, I usually get daily reminders. Like tripping.

So I was just in the restroom at work (don't worry, it's not one of *those* stories). I'm wearing semi-long pants today, which means I have to wear heels with them. But, let's face it, I wear heels because I'm short. And no one likes short people. And since I am self-less, I don't want to make people uncomfortable by being short, so I wear heels. Sigh. I'm always looking out for others.

Anyways, I'm wearing heels and long pants, and when I stood up to pull my pants (my, this story got personal--my, did I just say my?), my right pant leg got caught on my heel. And I tripped and fell against the stall door. Which was semi-loud, so I'm hoping the people whose offices share a wall with the ladies restroom weren't in yet.

Because Lord knows what they would be thinking was going on in there.

On an unrelated note, Cougar Country has the best pumpkin pie shakes EVER. Go enjoy.

I'm so brave

First, happy birthday to my two nephews! They are celebrating their very first birthday. One year in the wonderful world where I am their aunt. Lucky, lucky boys. Since they can't read this (that I know of, although they are related to me, so Lord knows what kind of geniuses we have on our hands), I'm not going to spend too much time here. Enjoy the cake, kids, and think of me as you scarf it down.

In other news, I had to get my flu shot last year. There will be no repeat of last year, where I missed a week of work/gossip while watching TV at home. Wait, maybe I acted too rashly . . . a week off sounds pretty good. And this year, I have netflix. Damn you flu shot!

And thank go out to Maryanne who: a) held my hand during the shot (damn you needles!) and b) didn't mock me for making her hold my hand during the shot. That's a true friend. And, on a completely unrelated note, she makes a great pumpkin cheesecake and she's so pretty.

Si, mis amigos, oh si

I realize that there are a lot of less-than-positive things going on in the world right now. Something big is up in the Middle East from what I understand, school shootings, Stephen Colbert not winning an Emmy, etc.

In this depressing world, we should all grasp any good news we can find. So check your calendar, kids, because it is 1985 once more! Menudo is back! That's right, the band that gave us hits like "Amor Primero," "No Te Reprimas," "and "Sabes A Chocolate" (as well as the Ricky Martin flash trend of good old 1999), is back! In keeping with their age-ist tradition of evicting any males past the pre-pubescent stage, this group will be all new young boys and, if past history teaches us anything, they will kick ass by the truckload!

So prepare for another Puerto Rican invasion, my friends, and just let the world's worries pass you by as all things are once again right with the world!

EZ-Tracks) - Epic Records, MTV, and television producer Ben Silverman have joined forces to resuscitate Menudo (a Puerto Rican boy band) from the grave. Epic Records has purchased an equity stake in everything Menudo – and, they appear to have done so under the umbrella of an investment group known only as “Menudo Entertainment.”

MTV comes into the picture as they will be hosting yet another “making a band” reality show documentary which is slated to be released late in 2007. If Ben Silverman has anything to say about the project, fans can only hope that this new “making the Menudo” documentary will be at least as cool as Silverman’s former ingenious projects such as “Date My Mom” and “Parental Control.”

According to reports, it also seems possible that a Menudo cartoon may be in the works. Also, with Johnny Wright, formerly Justin Timberlake’s manager (as well as other famed boy bands) set to manage the new Menudo – it seems as if this new Menudo scheme may in fact be brilliant.

You're the first, the last . . .

Ok, I swear I'm working right now, but just a quick thought.

I'm at a local coffeehouse and they are playing Barry White VERY LOUDLY. Is he conducive to studying/working? I don't know. Maybe the coffee industry did a study and found that listening to a man singing about getting it on maybe people thirsty.

It's not working for me. Of course, I'm listening to The Never-Ending Story theme song right now, so I doubt I'm anyone's target audience. Ever.

Good Sunday morning!

I bought a new vacuum yesterday and I must say that this purchase was, so far, the highlight of my weekend. And, yes, I realize how sad that sounds. I didn't realize how much my old vacuum sucked (or failed to) until this new one made its way into my life. Sigh. Ok, thus ends Ode to the Dirt Devil.

While at the store making said purchase, I got to hear for free what some people pay $3.99 per minute for. This young-ish girl (I'm hoping at least in college) was on her cell phone VIVIDLY describing her activities on the night before. With some random guy she met at a party. Let's just say she blew him away. A-hem. Among other things.

Seriously, detail by detail recounted. And she had to see me standing there because we were on the SAME EXACT AISLE. While I compared different vacuums, she just kept talking. No shame. Or maybe she needed the inspiration of the vacuums to aptly tell her story. Dainty little lady.

Then I went to buy accoutrement for my Halloween costume. Good times. Which is a hint of what I will be. My other hint is hideous. This will be my least attractive costume yet. As an added bonus, only three of us at the party will get it. But that's better than my typical batting average for people who get my jokes.

Oh, and people should go see The Prestige. If only for the surprise (for me at least) appearance of David Bowie. Yes, the Goblin King is in this. Sans massive eye make-up and tight clothing. I love David Bowie, but seeing him play a strait-laced inventor circa turn-of-the-century made me giggle for a good five minutes. And for the one person who didn't get why I was giggling, and just kept staring over at me (probably imagining I was having a mild break-down), now don't you feel silly?

Enjoy the weekend, kids.

Double-check

Check-list for things to get done Friday:

1) Pack lunch (after gorging on Thai food and cookies last night, probably said lunch should also be semi-healthy)

2) Finish grading exams

3) Do secondary research on some laws

4) Clean office

5) Email abstract to professor in Minnesota

6) Finish article edits

Guess how many of those got done? I love Fridays.

Here is my re-vamped check-list that I think is much more realistic/already accomplished:

1) Buy lunch at work (sounds like a hotdog type of day)

2) Clean half of office until discovery that one of my Elvis magnets fell off my filing cabinet.

3) Get distracted over magnet-fiasco, and get coffee instead

4) Watch clips of The Daily Show on youtube

5) Think about reorganizing books at office. But don't.

6) Start eyeing the clock at 2 and thinking that it is time for the weekend to begin

7) Plan TV-themed costume for department Halloween party

8) Update blog instead of working on article

See, with this list my Friday seems much more productive. I'm off for early drinks to be followed by watching The Prestige (which, for one person in particular out there, features Christian Bale--"Pulitzer and Hearst think we're nothing. Are we nothing!"). Enjoy the weekend.

Vegas Drill on duty

First, I just passed my oral examinations. So I'm a bit hyped-up. Score for me. I'm all about the ABD now, my friends. Which isn't some vague drug reference. Anyways, since all of my thoughts for the day went into that, I was too lazy to think up a topic.

Therefore, courtesy of my friend Cynthia, here is a fun use of my time to determine my various names. Try this at home, kids.

1. YOUR ROCK STAR NAME: (first pet and current street name)
Sylvia Ebony (man, I do rock!)

2. YOUR PORN STAR NAME: (Your favorite vacation spot and something from home depot)
Vegas Drill (dirty, dirty)

3. YOUR "FLY Guy/Girl" NAME: (first letter of first name, first syllable of your last name)
A-Can (I'm da-bomb!)

4. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color, favorite animal)
Purple Dog (maybe I'll just not go into that business)

5. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (middle name, city where you were born)
Elizabeth Pocatello (blech)

6. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name, first 2 letters of father's middle name)
Canamar (that sounds more like my drunk Star Wars name)

7. SUPERHERO NAME: ("The", your favorite color, favorite drink)
The Purple Tonic

8. NASCAR NAME: (the first name of both your grandfathers)
Leon Archie

9. FUTURISTIC NAME: (the name of your favorite perfume/cologne and the name of your favorite kind of shoes)
Chanel Choos

10. WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (mother & father's middle name )..
Marie Archie (the mafia should just put out a hit on me for that)

Have a good Thursday! I shall be eating cookies and watching TV to celebrate the wonders of exams!

Happy Oct. 18th, Elvis!

First of all, for those who forgot, today is The King’s three-quarter’s birthday. That’s right, just three more months until the big day. For those who are unfamiliar with three-quarter’s birthday protocol, typically you buy a present or make a cake for that person. If that person is dead (even allegedly) than said presents and cake go to his or her biggest fan.

Hi. I like cash gifts and chocolate cake. Hop to.

Second, I’ve got to go home and make some space on the mantle (and perhaps make a mantle). Why? Because my “Best History Instructor EVER” award should be coming soon.

Let’s give this some context, shall we?

When I get stressed, I have two typical responses: I get super-forgetful of everyday things I should know (like my phone number, where my cereal is, where my office is, what my cat’s name is) and/or I get super-giggly. While my friends might argue that I always show symptoms of the first response (damn that early on-set), my second response is always exaggerated.

A couple of years ago, in a class I was taking, I got a horrible case of the giggles. One of my friends drew a funny picture on my notes and I saw this picture just as I raised my hand to answer a question. For twenty minutes, the professor and my fellow classmates had to watch me giggle uncontrollably and try to compose myself. Legendary. I’m sure I impressed everyone that day.

Which brings me up to my expected-award. So today I was lecturing on the New Deal and I was talking about a specific act that old Gimpy McGee pushed through (that’s what us history folks call FDR. Or maybe that’s just me. Because I like to be respectful). This act was designed to get the wealthy to pay more taxes. Some creative genius even named it the Wealth Tax Act. Well done.

Anyways, one of my students, who apparently felt very passionate and enthusiastic about this, announced, “Whoo-hoo! Touchdown FDR!” while raising his arms in the touchdown signal (or whatever that’s called). I have no idea why, but this set me off. It took me a good ten minutes to stop giggling and return to my lecture.

And my students just watched their professor do this. And I’m sure were greatly impressed.

Maturity, thine name is Ace.

Cheers

I went to a surprise birthday party for my uncle this weekend. Good food, good fun, and, more importantly, good drink. Bottle of Grey Goose, meet Ace.

Speaking of meeting, guess who my family got to meet? Drunk Ace.

And that's all I choose to say on that.

My true Oct. 11 post

So I forgot to post a Happy Birthday! message to my sister yesterday. But we did go have a celebratory birthday dinner, so that counts for something.

But I would still like to post a happy birthday wish for her. Especially considering she frowned fairly severely when I threatened to sing, so I opted out on that. Why someone would choose to not hear my astounding singing voice is beyond me.

Happy Birthday!!

Farewell Blister

Blister is no longer welcome in my home. Laura smuggled her in last night while we watched TV and as cute as she was for the first little bit, we soon noticed that Blister had a slight problem.

And by problem, I mean odor. And by slight, I mean major.

I have never smelled anything so foul in my life, and I grew up in Pocatello and work in Lewiston. Blech. It was horrible.

So Blister must stay outside. And I've got the candles going at my house right now. My cat is feeling incredibly smug, I would imagine. She may be fat, but at least she doesn't make me vomit a bit in my mouth.

Yes, I'm politically incorrect

Before you read this, I just want to warn everyone that there are some footnoted-y parts to this post. These are private jokes. Don’t judge me for them, because I can guarantee that there are going to be three people out there who find them hilarious. Or semi-funny. Or just pretty loser-y. Whatever.

Oh, I should also warn everyone that I’m on a new kick where I add “y” to words. Because clearly passing my doctoral exams did not increase my vocabulary. But I’m still all smart-y and fancy-y. Or something.

Moving to the actual post.

I’m not quite sure how to announce this, but I feel as though I ought to get it off my chest: I’m pretty sure I’m a gay man.

Stuck in the body of a straight woman.

Case in point: how did I choose to end my weekend? I watched Newsies. It’s a musical. Because I love musicals. I might also have this movie memorized, and sometimes I sing the songs when I’m alone. And sometimes when I'm with other people. I also quote heavily from it. Between my love of musicals, my “questionable” taste in 80s music (please to be seeing this post), and my fascination/obsession with Elvis, I’m pretty sure that I come off as gay.*

On paper at least.

Does being a female make these factors of my life more acceptable, or just weirder? I’m going to go with not so much weird as it is hot. Who wouldn’t want someone who knows all the words to a fantastic Disney musical from the early 90s? Who would object to that, and on what grounds? **

So judge away, all you Judge-y Von Holierthanthous. I’ve come to terms with who I am, what I love, and how I express said love. Wouldn’t the world be a better place if we all liked ourselves for just who we are?*** And I’m pretty sure I just proved my larger point.

*Not, as Chuck Noblet would say, ass-thumping, but still. Yes, I’m going to hell.
**On the grounds of Brooklyn.
***See how I didn’t use the phrase “fond of”? Because it got me into trouble last time.

Warning: rant alert

Quick thoughts on recent stories. Okay, so violence in schools is up. How many shootings in the last week? Copy-cat crimes, sociopaths, etc. Do I have a solution to the problem? No. But I'm pretty sure that I could come up with something better than what a Wisconsin state legislator came up with.

Frank Lasee, a Republican, wants to solve the problem by arming teachers. That's right, send the educators into schools with weapons. Now while he doesn't imagine that the teachers will be strolling around with guns in their belts or in shoulder holsters, guns will still be taken onto campuses.

Here's what the genius had to say this morning on CNN when Soledad questioned the logic of this, saying it seemed like that might just make situations more volatile with the possibility of guns stolen or what-have-you. Lasee, employing a brilliant NRA-inspired metaphor, said that that was like saying pencils cause spelling mistakes. Guns don't kill people; people kill people.

Or, as Laura said, now teachers kill people.

I don't want to harp on this, but it scared the pants off of me.

In a less-serous note, it scared me because I remember my high school teachers. Most of them seemed just barely behind postal workers in terms of sanity/anger. Oh, and when this news story was running this morning, I was at the gym listening to it on my headphones. So the people around me had no idea what I was listening to.

Which might have made the audible comments I made seem semi-crazy. I think I might get a little scared if the person working out next to me suddenly starting muttering things about guns and morons and selective breeding to get rid of said morons. I'm fun to take into public.

Have a great weekend!

Downy for Dummies

Yesterday, I had to go to Wal-mart to buy kitty litter. For my cat. Not the one I attempted to steal (although I probably shouldn't put that in past tense, considering that I still let Blister inside whenever she wants).

While there, I had to get some other household-y items. Paper towels, shampoo, toothpaste, laundry detergent. It was while I was picking up this last item, standing on the laundry aisle, that I saw the weirdest thing yet. This lady picked up some fabric softener and opened the lid.

Not too weird, right? I assumed she was seeing if she liked its fragrance. But that's why you never assume, because it makes an ass out of ass-hats.

Anyways, sniffing was not what she was up to. She dipped her finger into the softener and TASTED it. Tasted it!

Ew.

Oops

I neglected to mention a few people in yesterday's acceptance speech. Rather than embarrass them by naming them now, I'll just move on. It happens to the best of us. Just ask Hilary Swank.

In my defense, I remembered myself and people who bought me gifts. Lesson learned, hopefully, to all of you who were forgotten. To be remembered, you need to bribe me or be me.

ABD--almost

Three words, my friends:

Fuck. Yes. Baby.

I just got the word that I passed my doctoral exams (the written portions). Passed. Passed my exams. Successfully passed my exams. Whoo!!!!!!!!!

Now, while I have to still teach one more class today, I have a feeling that there will be celebrations a-plenty later today. Feel free to send me any gift that you think would suffice. Cash always works. Or Elvis items. Or both.

I'd also like to take this time to help all the people who helped me. First is, of course, me. Well done to me for all my hard work. Good job. Second, all the other people who had to also take their exams. See how we didn't contribute to each other's nervous breakdowns? Excellent work, though, for all of you. Third, is Toni. Because she sent me money to use for "stress-relief." Which I translated into "vodka tonics." Take a page from her book. Fourth, Laura for all of her work to keep me distracted, via watching Twin Peaks and Scrubs. Fifth, my father for letting me stay at his house for free for a month so I could study. Sixth, for all the people who bought me rounds a few weeks ago at Rico's. Well done. Seventh, to Dwayne and Vicki for all their support and, more importantly, candy bars. And finally, to anyone I have neglected to mention. Just because I can't remember you makes you no less important. I promise.

I have some celebrating to go do now. As we all should.

Why Ace should stay inside

Hopefully this is the end of the Blister saga. So Blister is alive and well. I know this, because as it turns out, her owner is my next-door neighbor. She leaves her window open so Blister (which, as it also turns out, is not her real name) can come and go as she pleases. Which apparently does not mean that I should steal her. Oops.

Raise your hand if you are the best neighbor ever. And should never go out in public again.

Speaking of me being inappropriate in public, our kick-off party was last night. Only six weeks late, but we figured it was better to have it when everyone could enjoy it. As the party began, a few of us were watching WSU’s football game on TV (even though the real game was a block away). I might have gotten a bit involved in both the game (understandable) and the commercials (not so much).

I kind of forgot that I was not alone, and one of the commercials was rather gay. So I flipped it off. Did I mention I had been drinking?

But Maryanne saw me flip off a commercial. It’s pretty hard to be as cool as I am. At a party. In front of people. In a society.

On the bright side, the food was ok.