Sloppy Joe, Sloppy, Sloppy Joe

You probably won’t see a lot of action on my blog for the next week. I’m leaving for Chicago tomorrow morning to visit my friend Liz and celebrate her birthday. We’re also celebrating both of us getting a week off work! Woohoo!!!

After my visit with Liz I’m making a pit stop back in good ol’ Iowa for the weekend, where I’ll tip my hat to my dad and give a high-five to Mom before jumping back on a plane to Cali.

If any of my Iowa friends want to meet up, my grandma is having a lunch for me on Sunday (read: Sloppy Joes and potato salad, yum yum!) Come on by ‘round near noon.

For the rest of you, you’ll have to get your own sloppy joes.

Confucius Say…

I read this on another blog. I thought it fit me pretty well. Courtesy of Barbara.

"I laugh at everything; sarcasm is my shield through life and laughter is my sword. Thank God for it, ya know? I'm not one of those manic depressive people; I don't drown in my sorrows. It’s the one power I have, the one talent which I'm extremely confident in. Now I know I have it and can hopefully wield it even better in the future."

Radio Girl

Please tell me that someone out there heard me on the radio just now! C’mon, it was awesome. I was listening to 97.1 the FM talk station and Leo the Film Guy was talking about this weekend’s top 10 movies (how they know before Sunday is beyond me) and mentioned the Jimmy Fallon movie with Drew Barrymore. Then he asked if anyone knew the Cameron Crowe movie that had Jimmy Fallon in it. Of course I knew it was Almost Famous.

I called in and totally got through. I got to talk to Leo (who I think had a crush on me). I was actually on for quite a bit ‘cause he was asking me what was going on in the LBC and then he tried stumping me by asking what the name of the band was in the movie. After guessing Clearwater, Sweetwater and Freshwater, I finally remembered it; Stillwater. I’m not slow.

And the best thing about the phone call, I got a free DVD, House of Flying Daggers. Woohoo!

This was not my first time on the phone with Leo. I was actually on during a discussion of the movie Freddy vs. Jason (which I saw opening weekend with my buddy Hugh and 100 kids under 10.) I was able to wow him with my knowledge of both movie franchises and give a pretty good review of FvsJ.

Best thing about that phone call, I got a free DVD, National Lampoon’s Vacation.

Leo the Film guy has single-handedly doubled my DVD collection. Thanks Leo.

Making Out is Hard to Do

My apologies in advance for the super long post, but some things just can’t be summed up in two paragraphs.

At what age did it become non-ok to just make out with someone? No, I’m serious. Back in my glory days of college every weekend my girlfriends and I would get all prettied up and head across the street to the guys’ dorm and spend the evening dancing, drinking cheap beer and looking for cute boys to kiss.

It was almost a game in college: who could kiss the most boys. And I was quite good at the game, if I don’t say so myself. My junior year of college I made it a mission to try to kiss at least one boy from each fraternity on campus. Not an easy feat with 30 houses on campus (I believe ISU has the third larges Greek system in the country thank you very much.)

I think I got up to 18 by the time I graduated. I truly believe if I had started my quest freshman year I would have attained my goal. Alas I spent too much time dating just one specific frat guy or kissing more than one boy in the same fraternity, what a waste! It’s something I will have to live with the rest of my days.

It was all completely innocent, safe and in good fun. We weren’t doing anything wrong, we were just making out, nothing more. I never put myself in a situation where I’d have to worry for my safety, ‘cause my friends were in the same room. I never had to feel pressure that it was going to go any further than kissing, ‘cause my friends were in the same room. And if the guy called the next day it was cool, but if he didn’t, I didn’t take it personally and I didn’t feel bad about it.

It’s not the same today. Making out seems like it has to be fore-play for sex. It can’t just be making out for making outs sake. It can’t be just sucking face with a guy for a couple hours and then calling it a night.

Making out is a lost past-time as you get older. Unless I’m missing something and all my friends in their late 20s are making out like 18 year olds still. I miss kissing a guy and not having that anxiety that it can’t just be kissing, that it has to be so much more and all the pressure that goes on past kissing. I miss just sitting on a couch and having a guy hold my face in his hands and us being there like we’re the only two people that matter in the whole world.

What I’m getting at is that I really miss making out. I hope I was clear enough. Maybe I should work out some interpretive dance about it.

CSI: Long Beach

The condo four doors down from me has shown no signs of movement. I probably wouldn’t have noticed except someone stuck an envelope in their front door and it’s been there for two weeks. (Leana Benson PI!)

So every time I walk by their door I breathe deeply to see if I can smell rotting flesh. Isn’t that morbid? I don’t even know if I would know the difference between rotting flesh and the menudo the neighbor next door from me makes every Sunday. Stay Tuned!!!

All I'm Saying is TGIF

Well that was an exciting 24 hours. I’m so glad it’s over. All I want to do tonight is watch the season finale of Joan of Arcadia and go to bed. (How is that any different than any other Friday night Leana? Shut up!)

My condo’s building manager came over around 9:30 this morning and was able to fix my door in like 2 seconds. It was a fairly easy problem to fix and now my door both opens and closes. (Jealous???)

I got an e-mail from those bastards at PartyPoker.com. They put $15, real money, in my account. So I took a spin at the single-table sit and go tournaments. I like limit hold-em tournament. I've realized I am not a no-limit kind of gal. I placed third out of 10. Not too shabby for being out of practice all this time. The only weak part is that while these tournaments are only $6 to play, they pay out pretty small. Third place only pays $10. So my hour and a half of work only made me $4. Now I have to decide whether or not to keep playing with the free money, or cash it out and save some money. (I think we all know how this is going to play out.)

Yo, JOA is on! Gotta roll!

UPDATE: I'm Not Dead!

Hazzah! I made it through the night. I got about 3 hours of sleep, but whatever...

Now begins the second chapter of this nightmare; getting the door fixed.

Worst Night Ever

I thought the night being stuck in a car with three Woodward-Granger guys, tooling around the back roads of Iowa, was awful.

I thought the night I stayed up ‘til 6 in the morning finishing a paper for stupid Psych 101 was awful.

I thought the night I spent emptying buckets of water accumulating on my bedroom window sill after the horrible rains in December was awful.
I was wrong. This is the worst night EVER.

Please note the time below. Yes, it’s that late. And I can’t go to sleep.

Right before bed tonight I realize that I can not shut my front door. It simply will not close. I get it about 6 inches from the door frame and it refuses to budge any further. I tried man-handling it (as only a woman can do) and it doesn’t even seem like the door will fit into the frame, like it’s suddenly too big. The thing is, I can’t see what the problem is. Nothing is between the door and the frame, the hinges look fine. I can’t see anything that would keep the door from shutting.

Yet here I am. I’ve managed to use the ‘door club’ my friend Liz gave me for my birthday last year to act as a barricade of some sorts. And I physically moved my couch as close to the door as possible, just in case that first line of defense crumbled.

But it’s not giving me the peace of mind I had hoped it would. I’ve been able to doze on and off, but if I hear any noise I’m wide awake again. I’m still thinking at any moment some ass-clown from down the way is going to notice my door opened a crack and take that as his invitation into my house. I know it’s probably safe and all, but HELLO my door won’t close and it’s not like I’m still living in Iowa. My luck tonight is the night some mommy-loving sociopath will decide to start his woman-killing spree and be walking past my door. And it will be my fault ‘cause I never got around to learning how to use my gun. There’s something they can put that on my tombstone, “Here lies Leana, she never learned how to use her gun.”

But there’s only seven or so hours I have to kill before I can get the complex’s handyman to come over to see if he can hopefully fix this problem. Ugh.

I guess now would be as good a time as any to go clean out my sock drawer.

Wait, here’s a better line for my tombstone, “Here lies Leana, she always knew how to keep a tidy sock drawer.” I like that way better.

Almost Famous

Iowa State University’s Alumni Association Spring Magazine did a piece on yours truly! It actually turned out pretty well. I was worried ‘cause the day I was interviewed I was pretty low on the energy scale (aka stinkin’ drunk) and I think I probably should have rescheduled anyway. The reporter was somehow able to find something good out of my ramblings and made me sound pretty cool!

Now all Iowa State University alumni (who subscribe that is) know I'm famous. Now, the rest of the wooooorrrllld!!!!!!!!

When the Music's Over

I didn’t think it would ever happen, but I’ve finally managed to get sick of Kellogg’s Special K with vanilla and almonds. I’m so upset about it. I thought I had found the perfect breakfast food, but alas I am again on the market for a satisfying, yet low fat breakfast food. I’ve been toying with Frosted Mini Wheats and Raisin Bran, but I’m not sure. I don’t know if I’m even ready to jump right into another cereal relationship. Maybe I’ll just keep looking. I’m too young to be tied down to any-one breakfast food anyway.

Who knows, maybe after awhile I’ll come back to Special K with vanilla and almonds, but that’s my prerogative. Plus I still have three unopened boxes of it. I hate wasting.

A Lot Like Crap

A Movie Review without having to see the movie.

You don’t have to be an over-paid movie reviewer to know this movie is going to bite the big one. You take lame-ass Ashton Kutcher, add a brunette Amanda Peet, sprinkle with a contrived storyline and weak dialogue, and you are left with a steaming pot of shi-t.

This is such a Harry Met Sally rip off: two people meet, decide they can't date, then keep meeting, become best friends and then they fall in love. How is this one going to end??? You just can’t buy it with Ashton and Amanda in the Harry and Sally roles. What chick wouldn’t jump all over someone as hot as Amanda (see how I turned that around, boo-yah) And com on, Ass-ton is no Billy Crystal.

Don’t get me wrong, I like Ashton on That 70s Show. But he’s not a leading man. He’s a little boy. I wonder if he legion of tweens will help him pad the box office on this one. We shall see. I’m sure I’ll be wrong. I’m so out of touch with what the kids like these days. Go ahead, watch your Ashton and smoke your hookah!

The Short Version

Since starting my own blog several months ago I’ve taken to reading other blogs; just to compare, you know. Make sure mine is better, thus validating my own self worth somehow.

What I've always noticed is that if the post is way too long, I won't read it. I try to avoid that. Yet, my last post was nearly a novel. I apologize dear reader. And if you don't want to read the entire post, here is the Cliff's Notes™ version-or as the case may be, Leana's Notes™.

My last gig was at a hookah bar.

Hookah is another name for bong.

Hookah is a gateway drug, like meth or Big League Chew.

Young people: stay away from the hookah.

I am NOT a square.

The Hookah: A Gateway Drug

I had a gig the other night in a hookah bar. For those unfamiliar with the hookah, it’s pretty much just a long pipe with water in it that you smoke flavored tobacco through. What, you say, that sounds like a bong? Yes, it does. But it’s not, ‘cause it’s tobacco silly. I’m sure Tootie from The Facts of Life would have used it to blow bubbles.

I was vaguely familiar with the hookah from an evening out with my friends JW and Edward (*sigh* Edward *sigh*). I don’t remember the particulars, but I remember thinking the whole thing was silly. I don’t think those hookahs had tobacco in them, for some reason I recall them being tea leaves. But perhaps that was my naivety showing through.

Unlike that place, this club the other night let the people smoke the hookah INSIDE. I don’t know how they get away with that, except for the fact that this place was in Riverside and maybe they just don’t care. It was near UC Riverside, so the bulk of the tookers were college age.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m a 21st century gal. I’m hip to what the kids are doing these days. But I just think the hookah is a bad idea. They give kids the false impression that they aren’t really smoking tobacco. Because it isn’t as harsh as smoking tobacco, they can smoke more of it. It looks harmless, not like cigarettes, which we all know is the devil. People smoke the hookah in a party-like atmosphere where everyone shares the pipe so it’s more of a social activity.

But you can bet that sooner or later these kids are going to move from the hookah to cigarettes. I even saw some kid who looked 12 (I’m sure he was legal though) trying to light a cigar in the hookah bar. Nice!

I actually found an article that backed up my theory (or I backed up theirs, as I’m sure it was written before I even walked into that bar) Here is a quote: "Water pipes aren't convenient to use, so if somebody begins to find a water pipe and tobacco pleasurable, but they don't have a lot of time, what are they going to do? They're going to pick up cigarettes. So hookahs are, unfortunately, a potential gateway to smoking for young adults, and we certainly don't need a new gateway to tobacco use."

They even said gateway, just like me. I'm so brilliant. Maybe I’m just turning into a prude in my old age, but I have to think that allowing kids to smoke the hookahs today will lead to a lot more cigarette smokers in the future. I bet Big Tobacco Industry™ is knee-deep in this somehow. I may investigate further. Either that or I'll just go take a nap.

Reason #136,782 I am Single

After my gig last night I had a guy tell me he wanted to steal a pair of my underwear and make soup out of it.

And they say romance is dead.

Excuse me while I install another deadbolt to my front door.

An Afternoon at George and Laura's

I finally got my co-worker Tala to make with the photos she took of us on our trip to Washington DC a few weeks ago. We actually had some time to sightsee (as I discussed at length in previous posts) and this was my favorite picture of the day. I’m so glad I got one more good wear out of Pea Coat before having to retire her to the back of my closet ‘til next fall.

This is actually as close as you can get to the White House since 9/11. If you look very closely at the roof of the White House you can see two guys walking around. I thought they were sharp-shooters. Tala thought they were gargoyles.

The Lamest Post, Evvvvver

I found out this afternoon that there is a whole world of glasses that I can not wear. A whole style of glasses that I will never be able to experience. A whole door of glasses, closed to me. Life, it is so unfair!

I spent an hour picking out frames at the optometrist today. I choose the plastic ones that didn’t have the frames all the way around the glasses, just at the top. I was trying to do a complete 180 from my current pair. I wanted to get the glasses that didn’t scream, “Hey look, I wear glasses.” Instead I wanted glasses that said “yeah, hey I guess I do wear glasses, you just didn’t notice because you were so enraptured by my beauty.”

Unfortunately, because I have a stigmatism that only one in one gazillion people have, I’m stuck with needing frames that can hold the massive lenses. I ended up getting another pair that was a lot like the ones I currently have, but whatever, they are just glasses I suppose.

I asked the doctor about the Lasik surgery and he laughed at me. He’s all like “not a snowball’s chance, you have that stigmatism only one in one gazillion people have, it wouldn’t work.”That’s just great. The one thing that makes me different than every other person in the world is something that nobody else can see…unless they look at my glasses.

Leana: Reloaded

I've updated the upcoming gigs page on LeanaBenson.com as well as to the right of this-here blog. Please come out and support live comedy. If you come to my show and mention that you come on the recommendation of this post I will show you why they call me Funny Leana.

I Defied Death, Yet Again!

I’m back from DC: the first of my three trips in the next two months. At the end of April I’ll be in Chicago on a long overdue vacation and visit with my friend Liz, celebrating the anniversary of her birth and my 25 saved up vacation days. After that I’m off to another tradeshow in Philadelphia, where I’ve never been, so I’m excited. The only problem is, I never, ever want to fly again, EVER.

I’m serious. I had a horrible trip to and from Washington DC. The landing into Dulles was 45 minutes of turbulence and vomit. I seriously reached for my barf bag, which I’m sure frightened the unfortunate woman sitting in the seat next to me. Fortunately I didn’t have to use it. I kissed the ground after deplaning and spent the rest of the night reassuring my stomach and nerves that it would never happen again.

The flight back to Long Beach today was extremely uneventful-if you exclude my neighbor taking off his freakin’ shoes 10 minutes into the flight. NICE! Everything was fine until we started to land. The plane began to shake and wobble, and just as we touch down we took off again. WTF??? Before I knew it we’re over the ocean. It seemed like forever before the captain came on over the intercom to tell us that we were going to “try that landing again.” Well no shit, either that or we were going to continue on to Hawaii! The next landing was a bit shaky and I must tell you, I did make my peace with the man upstairs. When we finally landed I was a bit annoyed-the captain didn’t even apologize for the crappy attempt at a landing that first time around. As I descended the stairs I realized that it was the hurricane-like winds that had caused the troubles. It nearly blew my dainty body across the tarmac. Not that it’s any excuse. I told my favorite Laserfiche regional sales manager, Mr. Walter, at baggage claim that the captain would probably get a lot of grief from the other pilots and air-traffic control staff for not being able to “get his plane down.” I guess that joke works better spoken then in print. Geez, tough crowd.

I’m so glad to be back in the LBC. But I am tired. I’m still on East Coast time. Luckily I’m going to sleep in ‘til noon tomorrow. That’s how to get rid of jetlag, right?

I Totally Broke My Parole

Please don’t be mad that I haven’t written in so long. I have a good excuse, several excuses actually. More than one!

I self-diagnosed myself with strep throat Thursday night, getting a second and third opinion via the telephone from both my Aunt Carol and my friend Liz in Chicago. While neither of them are doctors they do know what “puss filled packets on the back of the throat” mean. Oh yeah!

My “real” doctor concurred and on Friday morning called in a prescription over the phone. I’ve decided that my doctor is either A) really efficient or B) really lazy. But it saved me the $5 co-pay so I was happy.

On Saturday morning I caught a flight to Washington DC via Jet Blue airlines. It was officially the WORST landing in the history of landings. There was turbulence for what seemed like the last hour of the flight. Upon arrive I heard of three separate instances of puking. Luckily not near me.

So I’m in DC working a tradeshow. My co-worker Tala and I were able to get in a marathon sightseeing tour. We visited the Air and Space Museum, the Natural History Museum, the Washington Monument, the Vietnam War Memorial, the Lincoln Memorial and the White House, in that order, and in less than three hours.

I also got in a marathon shopping trip and what might be my greatest find, a knock-off Kate Spade bag for $25. Giddy up!

I’ll be returning on Friday, until then I’ll pretty much be working the tradeshow and soaking my poor, tired feet…and maybe getting in a bit more shopping.