Best German Export?

There's a debate going on at work about the top three rankings of Germany's exports:

The Hoff


Heidi Klum


The Scorpions


Opinions?

Sometimes I Love My Job

What I had to look up at work:

Work Antics

This guy Sean has a police shirt he used for a photo shoot on his chair. And it has a patch that says "police" on it. So, one of the guys a few days ago added a piece of paper with the word "cock" written in big letters to the top so it says "cock police".

So, they just ran a tour through the office while Sean was out of his seat...and the chair was facing them as they walked in. And we all turned around to see them laughing at something and we couldn't figure out what they were laughing about until we remembered Sean's shirt. Oh, the antics.

Update: Sean just got back to his desk and we told him the story and he laughed, then paused and said, "Wait, it says 'cock' on the shirt?!"

Photo Memories #1

I started going through an old box of stuff. And that's the only way I can describe the box: stuff. In that box, I threw out a lot, including things I had been saving just for the nostalgia associated with it. I finally got the nerve to take pictures of these things and write about them so I could finally rid myself of the physical excess baggage I was carrying around.

These were my first pair of flare jeans. I thought these would be the "magic" to finally make me irresistible to guys. Yeah, that's it...



My mother would never buy me pair. I hate to admit it, but although I could zipper and button them up, I had what is now known as a muffin top. And my mother saw that and said I couldn't get any pants from Gap or Old Navy...and off to Lane Bryant we would go! And what they called "flares" were never flared. They were mom jeans. Mom jeans don't run the risk of muffin tops; the only thing that falls out of the top of Lane Bryant jeans are boobs because that's how far up the waist band is. (Well, I can't say that, really, I haven't shopped there since high school.)

But these were from Old Navy. I saved my allowance (well, lunch money...you would think skipping lunch for a week and a half would have gotten me to an "Old Navy size") and bought a pair on my own. And then I wore them every day for pretty much the rest of high school.

The hole in the left knee was from walking to drivers' ed. one day and I tripped in a crosswalk and ripped the knee. The hole in the right knee was from being bored one day watching TV and playing with a pair of scissors. The hole in the back of the thigh was from...well, I don't know what that's from. I think I had a hole in the seam and I kept picking at it and picking at it and then it turned into a large hole that just got larger the more I walked. Oh, and not to mention that the cuffs were torn to shreds from every day wear and tear.

Once I lost weight, I saved these as my fat jeans. I would wear them around the house when I cleaned, or when I would allow myself to pig out in front of the television with a box of chocolate covered cherries and regular (ooh! Scandalous!) Coca-Cola. Or I would wear them after a break-up when I wanted to feel better about being able to pull them up and down without unzipping them.

When I pulled them out of the box of stuff, I knew I could fit into them again. But I didn't care. They had a lot of good memories attached, but I knew I didn't want to put them on again, no matter how loose (or tight!) they might be. I like the jeans I have now...at least I can wear them to work.

One More Post Before Bed

Just came across this on my "Now, before I go to bed, is there anything else online I want to read" moment.

See, and I thought having FeBreeze and Easy Mac invented the same year I went to college was amazing...

Fun in the Car

I keep a drumstick in my car. Just one. I have told the same story that my cousin (drunkenly) stole it from his band's drummer because they were in a fight and decided to hide it in my car and that's why it's there. At this point, I don't remember if I made that up or if that's what actually happened, because the more I think about it, the weirder the story sounds...but I've been telling it for so long, that may just be the reason. So, it's just hanging out in my car. The Kia, the drumstick and me.

This afternoon during my commute, I was out of cigarettes and needed to keep my hands busy. I decided to put it to use, other than using it as a reaching stick when my purse falls on the floor. I started keeping the beat to the songs on my iPod. I tapped on the steering wheel only for a few seconds before the (supposedly irrational) fear of the airbag spontaneously going off hit me, so I percussioned (I can turn what I did into a verb, oh yes I can) on the dashboard instead.

Soon, Howard Jones came on, and before I knew it, I was doing that washboard sound using the heating vents. Although a small accomplishment in my life, I got a thrill from the ingenuity to work with the resources I had.

Just in case you happen to be around a vent of some sort and have a drumstick handy (who doesn't?):

10 Universal Truths...

...or, at least they're universal to me.

1. Signals are on the car or a reason.
Or, at least they're on the less expensive cars sold outside Fairfield county. Apparently, if you own a Mercedes, Lexus, Bentley, or anything that costs more than $60,000, signals are an option that aren't available on even the most expensive models, I guess. Right? Am I wrong? I've never been in one. I drive a Kia and can't imagine not letting other drivers around me know where I'm going. Oh, and doing so before I put on my brake lights is an Amendment to this Universal Truth.

2. Dick Wolf should be considered a form of torture.
Oh, but it's sooo good. It's like, my husband and I watch an episode of "Law & Order: SVU" and we're always on the edge of our seats for all 60 minutes, than when we get attached to the characters and the stories and Dick Wolf twists our arms and as soon as we see the black screen with his name, we exclaim, "Damn you, Dick Wolf!" Immediately after, we search for another DVR'ed episode we haven't seen, as if to say, "Thank you, sir, may we have another!"

3. If we just sit down to dinner, the phone will ring, and it won't be for me.
No matter how late we eat, my husband will get a call from someone. It will only end when I'm finished eating and it's time to clean up. But, then again, I hate the phone so I'm not that perturbed when it's not for me.

4. If I wake up late, I will either be low on gas or cigarettes.
This means I will hold myself up having to get them on my way to work, making myself feel even more late. If I wake up early, I will have an adequate amount of both gas and cigarettes, then I'll have to find ways to kill time so I won't get to work super early and the day will drag.

5. If I'm doing laundry, the shirt/pants/underwear I'll want to wear that day will be in the washer or dryer at that moment.
It's just inevitable. I may not even think I have worn it in the past two weeks, but somehow it will end up in my laundry and I'll have to do some last minute planning on an outfit.

6. If I've been tired all day and can genuinely see myself easily taking a nap when I get home, plans will pop up and we will end up being out late.
It's very rare I'm tired at work and not get my second wind on the ride home, simply because I'm not at my desk anymore. But the days I can't keep myself awake on the ride home, I know I'll be coming home to company and/or we'll end up going out somewhere.

7. If I've found I've lost weight (seemingly overnight), I'll be starving the whole day.
I'll end up eating whatever and whenever I want to that day as a sort of "reward", bringing my weight back up to what it previously was sans miracle overnight success. Oh, and it'll all be crap, too.

8. If I play hookie and take a sick day, I will get sick the next week.
I would feel badly for taking a sick day when I wasn't really sick and go to work, looking terrible. Although, this works in my favor sometimes; it gives my boss a chance to see what I'm like when I'm sick, therefore assuming I must have been even worse the week before. The phrase "trouper" comes into play. However, being sick still sucks, especially when I feel too guilty to lie in bed all day like I would like to.

9. It is a bad idea to buy more than one book at a time.
Once I get the two books, I can never decide which one to read first. It has gotten to the point where I end up not reading either. Or, I'll decide on one and mid-way through, I'll wonder if I decided to read the "wrong" book first, put it down and start the second, and never get back to the first because my mind has already been somewhere else for too long and I don't want to start over.

10. I only notice how anti-social I can be when an elevator is present.
I don't get uncomfortable easily. If I do, the feeling usually passes quickly. However, whenever I have to share an elevator with someone I'm not familiar with, I get all sorts of flustered. I'll have just gotten in the elevator and if I here someone coming, I'll press the Door Close button as quickly and as stealthily as possible to avoid sharing the elevator. It's a confined space and what will have been 15 seconds seems to last hours sometimes, especially if I've just come back from a cigarette and I can only imagine what the poor soul sharing this 3x3 space with me is thinking as they smell the tobacco on me. When I get to my floor and the doors open up, it's like a weight's been lifted off my shoulders.

New Discovery

So, in order to stay awake at work (fifth-day period fatigue syndrome), I was doing my usual Internet laps around my usual sites, I discovered Jott.

Not only can I have Jott send me text message and e-mail reminders and to-do lists, but I can post to Blogger via my phone. Sure, whatever I send it has to be said in fewer than 15 seconds, but I don't honestly see myself using it for Blogger, unless I can figure out a way to save it to drafts and work on it later.

Just a shameless plug, but so far I like it.

Oh, and iGoogle carries Jott as a Gadget.

Thank You Poem

So, my husband's best friend had her wedding two weeks before we had ours and we just received the thank you card today; I just bought our thank you cards over the weekend (at Family Dollar -- you could tell the wedding money ran out quickly on our honeymoon).

But, instead of a hand-written card (read: the only types of thank you cards that won't get you in trouble with the WASP side of my family), it was a photocopied poem, clearly written by the bride's mother. It was a very nice poem: easy to skim, our names were hand-written at the top, the Pepto-Bismol colored paper was a little nauseating to look at for very long.

I made the joke to my husband that we should write a short poem in each of our thank you cards. Here are some of the ideas:

Roses are red,
Bees like honey,
Your gift was sweet,
But we also like money.

*

Thanks for coming to our wedding,
Now call off the bet,
Although he screwed up the vows,
We haven't divorced yet.

*

My thighs may not be sore,
And he stopped saying "Heee-eey",
But I'm still a whore,
And he's still gay.

*

Thank you for your gift,
We'll use it near and far,
Thanks also for attending the wedding,
Hope you liked the open bar.

*

Glad you liked the wedding,
We heard you were tanked,
His mother said she met you,
She was the one you spanked.

*

I know we don't talk as often as we should,
Time passes so fast, it's true,
But I'm glad you gave a present at the wedding,
Now I can go back to ignoring you.

*

As I got home the night of the wedding,
And saw the presents in a heep,
I decided to open them,
Because he was already asleep.

*

Votes? Anyone? (Will anyone talk to me after these are sent out?) Hhhmph.

Video of the Day

On my super secret source for new funny videos, I came across this. As opposed to this as I am as a journalist (or at least a journalism major in college), I have to say this cracked us up at work.

A Massacre, In My Opinion

I LOVE Mary Poppins. Not just "loved as a child", but "love to this day". But I do have to say, this was pretty funny.

Political Commercials

Well, if this isn't the be-all, end-all of political satires!



Of course, having a firm grasp on what is rising on these-here internets, I'm proud to say I am the bearer of this viral video to many of my Broadway-loving friends.

Oh, it's wonderful. At the end, I didn't know if I was laughing really hard, or if I was about to cry (the harmonies get me all goose bumpy in Les Mis).

Point of this entry: LOVE IT!

Fashion?

I don't pretend to follow trends.

When I see a new trend, I find flaws with it (maybe because I don't have the money or the right body to pull it off). But my husband and I are HUGE fans of "Project Runway". It's the only show we actually set aside time to watch. Soon, the season finale leaks will be hitting the Internet. While researching what's going on at Fashion Week, I ended up spotting this, ahem, movement (above left).

It could just be me, but aren't designs shown during fashion week supposed to be looked at as avant-garde, but easily tamed for the commercial audience? I don't see how they'll make this work...

And, it reminded me of the aardvark jackets (above right), lovingly given at Christmas time in the Myer household in "Better Off Dead". "Everyone's going to have one!"

Video Hit List

I've been rather slow with this blog this week. One of those too many ideas, not enough time-type weeks, I guess. But here are some of my favorite video finds. (Yes, it was a slow week at work.)

Now, I'm not a huge fan of those who love the silly cat videos. Sure, I find cats amusing. I think they are all neurotic, just like everyone else. But this started going around at work and I did have a good chuckle watching it.


If you like "Family Guy", you'll like this. Even if you don't like "Family Guy", but you've played Nintendo in your day (Ha-Ha! We have an old school NES and our old games at our house now! Just wanted to brag.):


It's funny 'cause it's true. I know, it's terrible to say, but maybe that's why someone made this "PSA".


A fantastic video for any girl.


And, what's a good video with a strong moral message without a parody of it?


And, speaking of evolution, I leave you with this. It was only a matter of time before a perfectly spliced up viral video became spliced into another:


No republicans were harmed in the making of this blog.

Taking A Blonde Seriously

Note: Bottle-blondes, this does not apply to you.

There's no easy way to say this. It's a fact that's becoming more and more prevalent that blondes are completely underestimated. No, it's not paranoia; it's not poor-me syndrome; and it's not just a slight case of the "ditsies". It's a perpetual cycle of acting dumb so as not to come off different than people expect, followed by (or beginning with) someone meeting a blonde and having the preconceived expectation of hearing stupidity spewing out of said blonde's mouth.

Maybe it's 25 years of cynicism catching up to me. Maybe it's seeing girls dye their hair blond, thinking it'll be more appealing, then wondering why the guys they meet don't call back. Maybe it's the fact that no matter how intelligent of a conversation I can have with someone, they'll still say at the end of it "So, remember that time you didn't realize what a 'cizock' meant?" (And, for the record, as soon as I said it out loud, I realized the answer...)

So, I've started changing my mannerisms. I started dressing more "boring brunette" (yeah, stereotypes feel shitty, don't they?), and I stopped hiding my intelligence just to make others feel more comfortable around me (read: superior). Here are some tips I've begun to use:

1. Read more.

Pick up works you don't normally read. Find authors who write intelligently -- the more you get used to reading their work, the more comfortable you feel emulating their style of speech. If you don't know a word, look it up (and find its pronunciation!), then store it in your mind for future use; don't just use it to show off, either.

2. Compliment.

People expect blondes to be self-centered and shallow. Make sure if you like someone's shirt or their new haircut, or even something little like how they drive, make sure you say it out loud. Don't over-analyze the reaction to the compliment, either: "So, are you saying I don't wear nice earrings every day?" is not something you need to worry yourself with. Once people get used to your random compliments, they'll take them more seriously.

3. Stop. Playing. Dumb.

Yes, I'm still learning this lesson. Once you get used to feeling like you need to "dumb it down" to be liked, people get to know the real you. And, whether they like you shouldn't bother you. If you feel uncomfortable, train yourself to be empowered when the look of "what did she just say?" comes across their face, let it go. Again, the more you prove your intellectual worth, the sooner it'll become accepted. (I know, I know, you shouldn't have to prove your intellectual worth to anyone. I understand. However, those who perpetuate the dumb blonde stereotype are the ones who are making it worse for you, not the unknowing non-blonds who are surprised at your behavior.)

4. Lower your voice.

This is one of the weirdest pieces of advice I can give. This goes along with suggestion No. 3, though. The higher the register one's voice is, the easier it is to lose the voice in the crowd. Think about Marilyn Monroe. When you heard her high, squeaky voice singing or her kittenish whisper when she talked, did you roll your eyes? Did you admire how men flocked to her? (Did you secretly cling to the size 16 myth? Yes, myth.) Well, as much as I hate to inform you, unless you're part of a very, very small, almost minuscule, percentage of women who actually are physically programmed to have that voice, knock it off. If you find yourself constricting your throat, even a little, when you talk, it's not your real voice. To find something in your range, take a deep breath, fill your diaphragm, then sigh out loud. Believe it or not, that's more your natural register for speaking. And if you sing at all, you may be shocked to learn you'll have to learn how to harmonize in your lower register because those "blondes" on Broadway who squeak out their pop numbers are singing incorrectly. Nodes-alert! (Side note: altos are taken more seriously than sopranos anyway. Ask any director who has heard a squeaky "On My Own" at every audition sung by someone who would have gotten a better part had they sung a full-powered "When You're Good to Mama".)

5. Quit playing with your hair.

Do it in the morning. Move it out of your eyes. Fluff it in the bathroom. But stop twirling it. Stop adjusting it strand-by-strand at your desk. Stop picturing yourself in Finesse commercials whenever you take it out of a ponytail at the bar -- you know what I'm talking about.

6. Watch your man.

Don't get paranoid, but those who have the fashion sense to realize they don't look good as a blonde feel threatened by those who do. Their inferiority complex goes into overdrive and they think they'll feel better if they can outdo a blonde. If your man is the right man, you shouldn't feel threatened at all. But these brunettes need to be put in their place sometimes. Which leads me to...

7. Never allow someone else to make you feel bad without your permission.

Change the topic, then quietly pull the aggressor aside in private and let them know how you feel. If others begin to join in, take a deep breath and tell yourself they're only trying to make themselves more comfortable. A simple "it's funny how something as simple as hair color can bring so much joy to others" may suffice. But, if the topic doesn't change, make your point known. Don't just go along with it because the conversation is going well. That only means there's nothing better to talk about and your friends are not interesting or intellectual enough for you to be wasting your time with. If the situation progresses, get up and leave. You don't need to give an explanation if you've already made your point known.

8. Don't follow the crowd.

You think wine is more satisfying than beer? Order it, even if everyone else is drinking Coors Lite on tap. You're in the mood for salad, rather than wings and potato skins? Order it, even if you're perpetuating the stereotype of the anorexic blonde. (Sorry, I've never been thin enough to be put into that stereotype, so I don't really have advice for those girls.) You would rather listen to oldies than the same 10 songs played on WTUL over and over again? Do it, stating your opinion of those wouldn't-know-good-music-if-it-was-even-still-played-on-MTV stations. Make sure your opinions are known. Make sure you have your own opinions. Make sure you have your own reasons for basing your opinions on. And, most importantly, make sure you can back it up with fact, if needed. And, just as a general rule, if anyone is drinking, these are the topics never to discuss, even if you think everyone's in agreement with you: POLITICS, RELIGION or FAMILY. Trust me on this one. Bartenders are trained to smile and nod just for this reason. Keep the peace.

9. Bring out the blonde only when necessary.

It's true that it's a blessing and curse. There are crucial moments when bringing out the stereotype may be necessary to keep the peace, settle an argument, calm the drama, or lighten the mood. It's a form of comic relief, but used sparingly is the only way to use it. I asked my dad once how to be funny. He told me "timing is everything" and said when the time is right, I would know. He may have been watching Star Wars at the moment, now that I think about it, and he was trying to have a Yoda moment.

10. Always remember, you get what you put out.

The Golden Rule applies...and it's not just a clever pun to tie in with the hair color. (Actually, the Golden Rule is wash your hair immediately after swimming in a chlorinated swimming pool so it doesn't turn green, har har har.) You may feel insecure about trying to prove your self-worth, but putting someone else down is not the way to make yourself look better; in fact, it only gives people another reason to dislike you. And this time, they have a good reason if you resort to petty tactics.

Oh, and one more thing, because I know it confused you (don't feel bad, unless you're an editor and/or an irritable blonde, you may not know):
BLONDE is the noun for a female with blond hair.
BLOND is a noun for a male with blond hair AND used as an adjective.

Blonds can be used to mean plural men and women with blond hair.
Example: I am a blonde. He is a blond. My hair is blond.

Usinge ane "E" incorrectlye doesn'te makee youe blonde, ite juste makese youe stupide.

Rich Freida is a moron and has never experienced what calling products Brilliant Brunette, Radiant Redhead and then Sheer Blonde does to someone who's just heard her 100th dumb blonde joke of the evening. How the hell is "sheer" supposed to be a positive adjective to describe a person?