Thanks for the Memories

I’ve decided that the Internet is a lot like an old friend from back home that pops up every once in a while to remind you "where you came from."

I did a Google search of my name (what, like you don’t?) and I found this gem:


It's from the Iowa State Daily’s Police blotter. This is ten years old! $34.95 I’ll never see again.

Ironically, I drank way more BEFORE I turned legal, than after. And I was in a sorority, so that’s saying a lot.

My One and Only Problem with Larry the Cable Guy

Now, I haven't seen the movie, nor do I have any urge to, but my one MAJOR problem with the movie "Larry the Cable Guy: Health Inspector" is the title. He's a cable guy, why is he inspecting food????

Shouldn't the movie be about cable?

Now I get that the dude's name is Larry the Cable Guy, but then why does the title have to be "health Inspector"? Couldn’t it be more avant-garde, like “Yum, Yum Fun,” or “Into the Taste.”

I guess they'll reveal why Larry the Cable Guy is now a Health Inspector somewhere in the movie so that we can resolve this burning issue. Unfortunately the only way I'll catch this movie is if it comes on at 3 in the morning, I’ve got a raging case of insomnia, my remote control is broken and it's the only thing on.

Cooking with Gas

The studs at the gas company broke a line while they were doing work in the street outside my condo yesterday. They had to turn off the gas to our entire complex. The vague note we all had hanging outside our doors noted the time as 1:30 pm.

The only reason I found out what had happened was ‘cause I had agreed to count the quarters from our laundry facility with the other condo co-president after work. I counted over $1000 worth of quarters. Do you know how gross it is to think of all the hands that had touched those quarters before me? My hands were filthy when I was finished.

At least I could wash them in nice, hot soapy water when I got home. Oh wait, that’s right, no gas! This whole event just reiterated how horrible communication is in our complex. The condo manager had to come around to every apartment last night around 9:30 to let us know what was going on.

It’s nearly 11 a.m. and the gas company is outside right now trying to fix whatever the problem is. I feel totally gross and I may have to just run over to the gym and take a shower. I feel just like Laura Ingalls out on the prairie. Except Laura didn’t use a computer to blog about her experiences, she had to use that stuff made from trees and a piece of charcoal, or blood, or squid ink.

The Walls Have Eyes

Ants! I have freakin' ants. I'm so grossed out.

I'd seen a couple stray ants dancin' around my bathroom sink. I made short work of them when I saw them, and last weekend cleaned the hell out of the bathroom and sprayed Comet in all the corners. ( I heard it works)

But tonight I'm in the kitchen heating up my Lean Cuisine and I happen to notice an ant by the sink. That's when I saw them-swarming all over my cupboard. I screamed like a little girl. Luckily the boyfriend has had some history with ants and killed them all with Windex. Did you know that Windex kills ants? I guess it makes sense, it's what Merv Griffin used to kill all those whores in "The Man With Two Brains."

We figured out that the ants must be coming in from the neighbor's place. That guy is so gross; he just looks like someone whose kitchen was a safe haven for ants...if you know what I mean and I think you do.

I think we got all of them. I set out four ant traps and I plan to go back to the 99cent store for reinforcements. I will not have ants in my house. You hear me ants? Fuck off!!!

Pick-a-Little, Talk-a-Little

So tired.

But I Can't sleep.

I can't shut off the thoughts in my head.

They won't go away, they keep creeping back in.

Go away thoughts.

Must sleep.

Have to go to work tomorrow.

I feel another headache coming on.

Nice.

You Picked a Fine Time to Leave me Lucille

This website reminded me of my friend Liz’s first visit out to California. We were driving down Sunset Boulevard. Liz was determined to find a celebrity. Out of the blue she yells “There’s Kenny Rogers in that red Porsche!”

I looked, and the guy had the required white hair and beard, but I wasn’t sure. Liz was adamant, and like any tourists, we gave chase.

We drove all the way down Sunset Blvd. through Beverly Hills and up this long, twisting, turning road. I was driving like a maniac to keep up with the red Porsche and the Gambler. We ended up at this strip mall and circling the lot a few times before we spotted the Porsche in front of a pharmacy. As we walked into the Pharmacy he was walking out.

Upon further inspection the guy looked less like Kenny Rogers and more like a cross between Santa Claus and Uncle Jessie from The Dukes of Hazzard.

But I think Liz still counts it as a star sighting.

Don't Cry for Me Argentina

I think I just agreed to be the president of my condo association.

Damn it all to hell...

Just Call Me MoneyBags..Miss MoneyBags

HOME PRICE GROWTH SLOWS ACROSS U.S.While home price appreciation slowed across the U.S. during the fourth quarter of 2005, several regions continued to experience double-digit price growth, according to Freddie Mac's Conventional Mortgage Home Price Index (CMHPI).

The Mountain states led the nation in annual home price appreciation last quarter, with home values rising 19.4 percent at an annualized rate compared with the third quarter of 2005. The Pacific states, which include Alaska, California, Hawaii, Oregon and Washington, followed with an annualized gain of 18.2 percent. During the last five years, home prices have risen 97.8 percent in the Pacific region, according to the CMHPI.

Inappropriate Work-Out Attire Today at 24-Hour Fitness

One guy was wearing the baggy-ass jeans and a sweatshirt, with Doc Martins. The reason he really stood out was because he was working out manically on the stair stepper. He was swinging his arms so hard I thought he was going to tip the thing over.

The other was a short chick wearing khaki pants, a pink tank top and a knit sweater jacket. She looked like she was going to work, not the gym.

Do these people just not own gym clothes? Did they put these closes on specifically to go to the gym? Did they think it would comfortable work-out gear?

‘Cause people don’t just accidentally stumble into a gym to workout. It’s not like walking by the movie theater and saying “Yeah, I think I’ll see a flick.” There’s usually some premeditation to going to the gym. For me, I lay in bed for fifteen minutes crying before I get up, search for a clean sports bra and find one of my many old, gnarly sorority t-shirts to throw on before I walk out the door. Then I get to the gym, sit in my car crying for 15 minutes, then walk inside. Then I get on a treadmill, walk for 15 minutes and cry. Then I get off the treadmill…you get the drift. But at least I’m dressed appropriately.

But I guess the khaki pants and jeans is a lot less offensive then the fat chicks wearing spandex or the hairy guys wearing tank tops.

An Apple a Day

Went to the gyno today. It’s my all-time favorite place after the dentist and the principal’s office.

My gyno is also an OBGYN. That’s fine and everything, but why does every freakin’ magazine in the place have to be baby-related? They have endless copies of New Parenting, Baby Weekly and How to Conceive Monthly. That office is extremely pro-baby. Not that I’m anti-baby, but I’d like to not be forced with the option of either reading about sore nipples, potty training and episiotomies or staring at the walls.

Would it kill my doctor to have a subscription to US or People? I’d even be willing to read Woman’s Day or Better Homes and Gardens.

Just to summarize: Leana’s isn’t anti-baby, just anti-crappy magazines.

Even French Dogs Suck

Last night the people in the hotel room next to mine went out for the evening. That’s fine. No problem. Except that they left their little, yippy, white, fluffy dog in the room without them. Alone to do nothing but bark its little buggy eyes out….until 4 in the fuckin’ morning!!!!!

I called down to the crack staff in the lobby of the Holiday Inn. I don’t think they’d be able to find the third floor if they tried. Bunch of morons. Luckily the gin was finally able to block out the barking.

Where's the Cheese?

Washington DC is a strange maze. Streets start going north, then veer off to the left. Street names change randomly, sometimes dead-end then reappear going a completely different direction.

And don’t try using statues of men riding horses or sitting pensively in chairs as a landmark. Every freaking block has a round-a-bout with one. How many statues of Jefferson does one city need?

Someone told me that when the city was being built, it was intentionally made confusing to thwart the enemy.

Well, if the enemy was a nubile, young California tourist, then mission accomplished!

Doing the Dance

While in Washington I have rekindled my love affair with those little chocolate doughnuts. They are ever so delicious- and at this skeezy, little liquor store a block away from the hotel, they are only 50 cents a pack.

Notes from Our Nation’s Capitol

I’m in Washington DC as I type this. But from my luxurious bed at the Holiday Inn, the only thing that differentiates tonight from any other Saturday night is that I have the heat cranked up and 10 extra blankets around me. Oh, and I’m not crying into a quart of ice cream.

It’s so freakin’ freezing. And I don’t want to hear anything from my kin back in Iowa, saying how I’ve gone soft since moving to Callie-fornia. I know I have. I know that when it gets below 54 degrees I put on long johns and pull out my 5-inch thick sweater. But this cold is ridiculous. And the wind is blowing at about 50 miles an hour, and it’s so loud you can literally feel it beating against the window.

My hat goes off to George Washington and all the other dudes who were able to survive the winters here. I walked across the open tundra between the Washington Monument and the White House and froze my nuts off. For real, I don’t have nuts!

But I bet Washington didn’t buy 5 t-shirts for $10 today. I did!

I have many exciting stories to report, but I know how short attention spans are (mine included) so I’ll break them up.

Ciao!

What are the Odds?

Apparently 1 in a million.

Leanasaurus

I thought scientists were supposed to be more intellegent than the average bear. Then how come we end up with dinosaurs named Spinosaurus, Giganotosaurus and Argentinasaurus (guess where that one was from???)

Now, a moment of silence for my buddy...the T-Rex.

Check Please

Um....I stumbled upon this blog. Yeah...well..gosh....woah...