New Favorite Sticker

I saw this sticker today and thought it was hysterical. Feel free to plagiarize.

Oh my God!
Are you okay?
I saw the short bus
Flip over and I know
How you don’t like to wear
Your helmet because it’s
Hard to lick the
Windows :)

Walgreens Doesn't Sell Dirt, You Dummy

I was at a Walgreens last Thursday afternoon with my co-worker. We were waiting in line to pay for stuff I can't even remember now but was vitally important at the time. This dude comes in, eyes the long line, and then walks directly up to the cashier.

Side Bar: like most urban Walgreens' cashiers, she looked less than pleased to be there. In fact, she looked like she was hungover or possibly still drunk--sort of like a meaner version of Droopy. So awesome.

Anyway, so our friend random dude tries to butter up the cashier by using her name and asking her where is the (here's what I hear) "potting mix". Mean Droopy asks if he means for alcohol mixers. He's frustrated and says that he's from the South and he drove all the way to this Walgreens (?) to find "potting mix". My co-worker then suggests that if he's looking for a mix of different kinds of candy. At this point, I'm sorely confused because I think he's asking for potting soil. So, I ask "Do you mean dirt?" To this, he shoots me a nasty side glance and complains that we are all comedians or something.

Then he more helpfully explains he's looking for pretzels, Chex mix, etc. Ahhhh, you're looking for "party mix" not "potting mix". Oops, sorry for making fun of the awesome Southern accent. I was wondering why he thought Walgreens sold dirt.

Boobalicious

You know, even when you have a professional job, dudes are always checking out your rack. Some are more sly than others, but some are just plain creepy.

We're all familiar with the handshake/stare directly at the boobs, but there are all sorts of other rack-attention give-aways:

1. Full up and down stare while lingering in certain areas (gag)
2. Lingering glance
3. Sneak a peek while my attention is focused somewhere else
(lots of others but for sake of blog space, let's cut to my current fave)
4. Stare while making a tacky comment.

For me, most of these comments come from the homeless dudes huffing paint at the bus stop but for the past 2 days 2 of my clients have said some super duper creepy things:

(Monday) While describing a female co-worker to me, a nerdy co-worker said that she was "well endowed, just like you..." yikes

(Tues) After asking why I didn't bring back a switchblade from Italy, another Creepy McCreepster told me it would be no problem to sneak it back in my bra since "you have plenty of room in there" (with hand gestures) eeeew

Today is Wednesday, people. Which one of you is going to step up a make a comment? I'm depending on you! Creep me out if you can...

Update: During a public hearing Wed. night I was on the receiving end of "accidental" boob contact by not 1 but 2 creepies. The streak is alive! Watch out DiMaggio, I'm coming for you!

Dodged a Bullet

I participated in a charity bowl-a-thon this afternoon. As part of the fundraising efforts, they had a bunch of silent auction items. I had an opportunity to bid $450 for 2 premium bottles at Pure at Caesar's Palace. For those of you not familiar with Las Vegas bottle service, to get a table reservation you have to buy bottles of alcohol at exhorbitant prices. The estimated value of the package was $1200.

Since my birthday is on Tuesday, I was sorely tempted to buy it and go out with a bunch of friends. While they were counting down the end of the auction I saw that I had bid outbid and I literally had 10 seconds to make a decision.

I passed on it because I thought I could do a lot with $450. When I got home and talked it over with my husband, he knew it was a bargain... Did I make a mistake guys?

Diamond Diva

I rejoined my friend's softball team. I'm not so good but I like to play. We have a fun bunch of people--some of whom are really talented softball players.

Everybody is really encouraging so it doesn't make me feel so bad when I drop the ball, can't hit the ball or a whole host of other errors.

I'll be hitting the batting cage before our first game on Thursday. Hopefully I'll be able to hold it together and do a good job. I'll be playing catcher which should keep my knee problems to a minimum.

If anyone wants to come and see us, we play on Thursday nights at Desert Breeze. GO TEAM!

Barefoot Jogging?

Sometimes you see the most random things when you are just driving down the street...

Today I saw a dude running with no shoes of any sort when I was out driving. I noticed him because he was shaking his feet at the intersection because they were obviously burning hot. He also had no shirt. I almost thought that he was running from the cops except that he had an iPod with him.

So, after the light changed he ran across the blazing hot street and kept on jogging. so weird.

What Goes Around Comes Around

So, after giving Lady Hector such a hard time about humping to the beat of her own drummer in the gym. Well, due to my ongoing knee issues, I will be forced to do modifications in Lady Hector's class because I can't do any squats or lunges until my knees get stronger.

That means that some smart know-it-all is snickering under her breath in the back of her breath about how I'm obviously a weirdo. Well, I guess I deserve that.

Be careful who you make fun of--they may put some kind of a curse on you.... soooo not awesome.

The Train's A' Comin'

Tomorrow is weigh in day at Weight Watchers. You know what that means--another nervous post full of hand wringing and second guessing. Today will be no different. I have been really good this week with my activity and up until today have been good with my food choices.

At lunch, my less-than-secretive poker face at lunch almost touched off a near riot amongst office co-workers about what was appropriate and not appropriate to say to me about my clearly not kids-size spaghetti and meatballs at Macaroni Grill. In the end, I think everything got worked out, but it was pretty awkward for several hours. I blame food!

I'll keep my fingers crossed that I get some quality poopage between now and noon tomorrow. As always, I'll let you know.

Couch Potato No More

While we were at Palms Place on Saturday, my friend convinced me to start training again to run road races. I did five 5k races last year, hurt my knee and have since switched to other exercise. I always liked the races so I am going to try to run the Las Vegas half marathon this December. It will be a very tall order, but I am going to give it my best.

If anyone is interested in training from a basic level, I originally used Cool Running's Couch Potato to 5k running plan. Here's a link: http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml.

Good Luck to all you future runners and former couch potatoes!! Come out to Vegas in December to cheer me on. I will definitely need it, even if Elvis makes an appearance.

Party at the Palms

I scored an invitation for the opening of the Palms Place hotel/condo tower last Saturday. For this quiet home body, it was quite the LA party scene. We saw Pete Wentz (as he went to DJ for awhile), Ken Paves, Larry Rudolph (Britney's manager), George Maloof (the owner), LA Tan guys with camera crew, Sal Masekela (Daily 10), Constantine Maroulis, Dick Vitale, Linda Hogan and her manboy and too many skankerific whores to count! Jessica Simpson, Ashlee Simpson and Verne Troyer (mini-me) were also there, but they must have been in some secret VIP area that we riff-raff couldn't see. Sarah Larson was also there and the local radio stations are reporting that she was making out with her an old ex-boyfriend, unfortunately, not George Clooney.


Linda Hogan was getting down with her bad cougar self on every young blond dude that walked by--quite the display. Somebody hit the open bar pretty hard. You know, when there is an open bar you always want somebody to go crazy to make the party fun, but you neeeever want to be that person making an arse out of themselves--especially with camera crews lurking about. Thanks, Linda!
We were invited by a nice couple to join them in their cabana, so it was pretty awesome people watching. For the longest time, I couldn't figure out where people were going because they kept walking around and around the pool area. My friend explained to me that they weren't going anywhere, they just wanted to be seen. Boy, am I a crappy social climber. Oh well, at least my boobs are real and I am going home with my husband. Eat your heart out, skanks!

The other great part of the night was running into my former boss who looked more than a little disappointed that we were also invited. tee hee You're not so special after all.

In case you bitches care, you can see a bunch of pictures on one of my favorite blogs Dlisted: http://www.dlisted.com/

I'm glad we went, but once you get to see the celebs in person you realize how tiny they really are. Once again, fantasy beats reality every time. Come party in Vegas with skanks, woo-hoo!