Spring is for losers!

It is no secret that I am fussy about temperature (and in general). I hate being cold. This is why I have a space heater at work, numerous sweaters, socks that look like disembodied muppet feet, and a throw blanket in every room.

But I also hate being hot.

I don’t mind shedding my many layers of clothes and wearing less. But there is a certain point at which you have so little cloth on your person that you may as well be completely nude and yet you are still sweating.

I spent the evening cowering in the cool basement with the dog, watching TV and willing the bedroom to be cool.

This morning I locked down the house like I was preparing for a zombie apocalypse, shutting every window and lowering every shade, hoping to keep the house at a reasonable temperature until the evening cool returns.

I guess this year Seattle decided to skip spring.

Update Update Update

Today Bark Bark Bark Lady started enumerating all the chocolate things she likes to eat:

Chocolate ice cream, chocolate cake, chocolate cheesecake....

****

Shrimp Gumbo, Shrimp kabobs, Shrimp Salad......


***
In other news: I am a huge jerk.

Spoilers SUC- Over-Thinking Harold and Kumar 2

New spoiler-filled review up at Spoilers SUC.

Dear Latte Lady,

Every time I order my latte you ask me how many pumps go into it. Every time I say, “I have no idea.” Then you roll your eyes.

Latte Lady, I hope that you are having eye spasms because you better not be mad that I don’t know how to make a latte. I also don’t understand cricket; luckily it is not my JOB to know cricket from pickle ball. I do not ask you how to manage relational databases then roll my eyes when you don’t know, so keep those eyes straight ahead and learn how many pumps go in a 16 oz white chocolate mocha.

This morning when the 40 cups of drip that I had ordered for my meeting did not arrive, and I asked you about it and you said that I should have reminded you about it yesterday; then I did not lunge across the counter and throttle you. I did not tell you that it is not my job to remind you to do your job. I did not tell your boss. I did not pee on your car.

But I wanted to.

Just not today. For today I have bestowed mercy upon you, Undeserving Eye-Rolling Latte Lady Who is Not Good at Making Lattes, because it is Wednesday. And today will be good- I decided this in advance. Today I am bringing cake to The Comic Stop to celebrate Wednesday-ness in all it’s glory. But if you fuck with me tomorrow, I will cut you.

Happy Wednesday,

Quiana

Link-O-Rama

This is the most disappointing news story ever. Summary: My shower gel is probably giving a sea otter cancer right now. I know that this world is filled with worse troubles, but I LOVE my shower gel. MURRRR.

Interesting article on interracial marriage and rogue legal clerks.

Awesome story on Bruce Wayne on GCN.

Tales from the Crypt

Today Bark Bark Bark Lady at work loudly exclaimed “lunch” while sitting alone in her cube. The person passing by nearest to her said “What?”. And she said “I just finished my lunch.” “Oh” said my confused coworker. This is what it is like working with this lady. Every. Day.

I walk into to the workroom and she says, “Gonna make some copies.” Then stares at me expectantly. So I say, “Ok.”

So bizarre.

I suppose what she is looking for is:
"Gonna make some copies."

"HOLY SHIT! NO WAY! YOU ARE AT THE COPY MACHINE WITH THE INTENT TO MAKE COPIES!?! I made copies once and it was awesome. Will you be using the duplex function. DUPLEXING IS RAD!!!"

Today a coworker playfully punched me in the arm and my arm fell off and rolled under my desk.

Ok. Fine, it hurt like the dickens and I thought it might fall off eventually, but everything seems ok now.

I think I need to work out more. (In order to punch my coworkers playfully and make them worry about their limbs.) (Kidding.) (Not really.) (I really want to be strong enough to handle this physical abuse.) (Handle it with these guns. Right here.) (BAM!)

Things I Don’t Understand: Washcloths

So you say you take a baby towel, moisten it, put soap on it and rub your face? Ok, I’m totally with you. Now you then take the baby towel, rinse it out, and hang it to dry? Ok. Ok. I get it. Then you take the baby towel moisten it, soap it up, and then place it back on your face? Really? Your face?

Shenanigans called.

This treatment is fine for my countertops, but not for my face. I always just rub soap on my face and splash it off. Sure, it looks like a harbor seal has been frolicking in my bathroom, but my face doesn’t have old moist-cloth cooties.

Spoilers SUC: The Golden Compass

Spoiler-filled review of The Golden Compass is now up on Spoilers SUC.

Shortest review ever: totally glad I didn't spend ten bucks. Thanks Netflix!

Best band name [unintentionally] suggested by NPR today:

Suspect Tomatoes

And then the bad man put his hand in my mouth.

ARG! My mouth is finally un-numbing from my trip to see Dr. Yuan(a) and my jaw/teeth are killing me.

I don’t think that teeth are such a great idea. Surely we should evolve something better, such as swallowing things whole and then swallowing rocks and jumping up and down. Or spitting up on things and slurping it back up. (Hot!)

Shyamalan, I'm never defending your lame-ass again.

To read my enthusiastically unenthusiastic (and super-spoiler filled) comments on the so-called "movie", The Happening, go to Spoilers SUC and check out [What] The [hell is] Happening. Reminder: Spoilers, spoilers, spoilers.

Snacks: Delicious Treats or Road to Unexpected Case of the Clap

Sunday morning I fetched Kim from her friend's house, stopped by Tim's, and went to the enormous Asian mall in Richmond where I procured a ton of crap I don't need including:

Garbage can in shape of pig.

Sticky notes featuring a mouse driving a wedge of cheese with "Cheese Driving" emblazoned along the top in a jaunty font. (Sidenote: jaunty font is a very fun phrase to say aloud.)

Straws featuring giraffes and space shuttles. (Shhhhhhh! Do not tell my roommate that I bought more straws.)

Blueberry Pocky

Kiwi fruit candy.

Bacon roll.

(I did not purchase the Doraemon Steering Wheel Cover that I coveted, as I did not know the size of my steering wheel. I think I will get a Totoro one on ebay instead. Or maybe Mario Bros.)

We arrived at the border at 1 something and sat and sat and sat. In fact we counted two (2!) nose pickers. We also learned that the Duty Free store pipes music outside. Music chosen to encourage large amounts of alcohol purchasing? C+C Music Factory. (This was either on loop or C + C Music Factory has the longest songs in musical history. It was like watching the Ring Cycle, but with nose picking and heavy base.)

The line was moving so slowly that a guy actually refused to turn his car back on to creep forward and instead would hop out and push every few minutes. I suggested that Kim get out and push our car, but she seemed utterly unconcerned with the fate of the polar ice caps. (Sorry polar bears, you have to drown because Kim does not care.)

Eventually we made our way towards the front of our line, only to find that our lane was being merged into the other lane at the border and in spite of the fact that we ended up next to the same truck we started next to, I had drive all Philly style to cut into the other lane. (This is because people who drive F350's without a hitch are actually enormous assholes.)

At long last we got to the front (at 3ish) and experienced a fairly normal crossing until the following exchange:

Large Stern Looking Boarder Guard: You bringing anything back with you?

Q: Just snacks.

LSLBG: [handing us our papers] Ok, have a gr.... Wait what kind of snacks? Ya'll don't mean ecstasy do you, cause I don't want you to get past here and then when you get down there be all 'we told the border guard we had snacks' [impression replete with falsetto].

Q: Uhmmmmmmm. No, ketchup chips and candy.

LSLBG: Ok then, have a safe trip.

Q: Ok. Thanks. [To Kim] Barooooo?

America's Hat: Still Up There, Now Expensive

I'm back from visiting the family in the Frosty North, and you'll be pleased to know that it rained the whole time, gas is up to $1.30 a liter, and I can't visit my mother for longer than 24 hours without a hideous and stupid fight.

I won't go into the fight, but for those of you who may be rusty, here is brief 3 step set of instructions on how to apologize:
1. SAY: "I'm sorry for..."
2. INSERT: title of offense
3. SAY: "It was not cool."

Example of good apology:

"I'm sorry I slept with your sister, it was wrong and hurtful."

Example of bad apology:

"I'm sorry I boned your sister, but she was hot."

The END.

Anyway, I was able to help my mom pick out some great clothes, so that was good. She also gave me my very early birthday gifts, poach pods and a really cool water bottle to reduce my Nalgene reliance.

On Saturday we had dinner at a place called Nando's which was surprisingly delicious for a fast food joint. (The restaurant chain claims to be Nelson Mandela's Favorite. That was your Nelson Mandela Fun Fact of the Day.)

I convinced the rents to watch Stardust, which they loved and Southland Tales... which nobody loved (not just in our house, but in a more universal sense). (Sidenote on Southland Tales: Justin Timberlake is in it and while his acting seemed fine, listening to him read is almost as painful as listening to Drew Barymore attempting an accent.)

And that was Friday- Saturday... Sunday is a tale for another day.

Music Videos Totally Still on TV

VH1 plays actual music videos in the am; here are a few things I've learned:

Madonna is terrifying. Seriously terrifying. Like 'oh noes! Madonna is going to grind Justin Timberlake's bones to make her bread' terrifying. (Zing!) (Sidenote- flesh tone skimpy lingerie on a woman my mother's age... not so much with the sexy. Also, baby needs a sandwich.)

Leona Lewis is actually so beautiful that she's just a little... boring.

Alanis Morrisette's new CD is whiny and her new video is seriously gross. Alanis, Ryan Reynolds will never be yours again. Get over it- at least you got some before he touched Scarlett Johansson. BLECH.

Weezer-still awesome.

There is nothing more decadent than playing hooky, sleeping in, and eating an everything bagel while watching music videos.

And when she awoke she realized it was all a bad dream

Last night I commented to Steve that I have been acting like a crazy person. I eat all the time, I can't sleep, I look like shit. I am jumpy and grouchy and tense. I've put on 8 pounds.

Anxiety has ruled me.

I told him that I just need to get my shit under control. This morning I woke at 9 am, refreshed. I padded downstairs and had a bagel and watched music videos.

It is like the last month of office anxiety, family anxiety, money fears, and moving stress just evaporated over night. Whisked away by my dreams about stealing a horse and trying to get my uncle to take in a homeless man who was 7 feet tall.

Today I will go to Canada and have a birthday dinner with my mother, I will give her the card I bought for her months ago and a gift bag of foods she cannot get easily in Canada. Tomorrow we will go shopping and I will help her revamp her resume, then we will go to the movies. Sunday I will fetch Kim and we will shop at the crazy huge Asian shopping center.

And everything is going to be ok.

Qtilla: Professional Character Assasin

Actual transcript of conversation at work:

Coworker: How do you run Report X?
Me: You hit a button that requires higher privileges than you have.
Coworker: No, but how do I run it?
Me: You click this button, but you don’t have the button.
Coworker: I don’t think you get what I’m saying.

Apparently not.

In other office news:
A while ago my “Psycho Client” (who writes exciting single spaced, multi-paged, rambling hate letters incorporating such words and phrases as ‘bungling’, ‘bloated’, ‘silk-lined pockets’, and numerous other hilarious phrases which would give away too much about my job for me to be comfortable with) broke a nondisclosure agreement and I ratted him out to legal, like the stool pigeon I am.

Yesterday he comes in and is bellowing for the receptionist to get him a copy of the NDA. So I bring a copy down to him and now I am super-excited that maybe we’re suing him. Another branch of my office has actually filed an injunction against him, so if we sued him, that might scare him off and I won’t worry about him cutting my break lines.

Not by the hair of my chinny chin chin.

Amusing (tho I do say so myself) excerpt about my afore mentioned cake class from my excruciatingly boring other blog:

As soon as I walked into the classroom I smelled cat pee and thought, “Oh there have been cats in here.” Then I thought, “Oh, it is probably not bring your cat to work day here at the craft store.” And then I realized that someone here smelled like cat pee. Knowing that none of my friends smell like cat pee, and guessing that the coach bag toting soccer mom and her adorable daughter probably don’t smell like cat pee, I guessed that the hefty toothless lady with the hairy chin was the source of the odor. Imagine my surprise when I learned that this former professional barrel rider/goateed/cat pee perfumed lady was our instructor.

She did not seem to know what was going on at all and at one point in the class actually pulled a hair out of her frosted cake. Also her frosting rose was bullshit.

It was AWESOME.

After class I rushed home to tell the roomy about the toothless cat pee lady only to find he was not home. So I called my mom and she essentially told me that I was a judger and that not everyone can be expected to meet my hypercritical standards and that I need to learn to just allow others to “just be”. (At which point I can only assume that she rolled a doobie and did a little yoga.)

Things you don't hear every day...

I am taking a cake decorating class from a toothless retired rodeo queen.

I think it is going to be really fun, but will result in a TON of cake that my roommate will not eat, as he is not eating that sort of thing right now, and the bastards at my office don't deserve any cake, so I'm stumped as to what to do with it.

Oh heavens, I guess I will eat all this cake all by myself. That's too bad.

In other news of the Q:

1. Jim and I caught the season premiere of Venture Brothers, season 3, and I must insist that you all watch it as it was AWESOME.

2. I'm headed to the Frosty North again to visit my mom for her birthday and am NOT looking forward to paying for gas at over $4 a gallon. Today I filled my tank and it cost me $55 (and my tank had just under a quarter of a tank when I got to the station).
I am looking forward to visiting with my mom and helping her to create a new career plan and maybe help her go back to school for an advanced degree. (One of us should do this and I am not making any progress, so there you go.)
My mom may be an artsy-fartsy free spirit, but she is also incredibly smart and deserves more professional success.
I'm also looking forward to hitting up the enormous Asian mall in Richmond again with Kim, but let us focus less on creme puffs and more on my mom for now....

3. I'm really making good progress on getting my room re-organized and ready for comfortable inhabitation. Today I unpacked my sewing machine and got my desk all organized and I am feeling unduly smug.
But that is ok, because feeling smug is really pleasant. I think I will put forth additional effort in the area of smugness.

Go!

Speed Racer is, if not the most, certainly in the top 4 most visually stunning films I have ever seen.

The design work, particularly the colors in the movie, was literally amazing. I left the theater wishing that I lived in a world that beautiful and bright. The race scenes were absolutely fantastic in creativity, action, and design.

The overall treatment of the film was adorable and really hearkened back to the original cartoon.

Speed Racer was very funny, often touching (a little clumsily), and always a joy for the eyes.

If anyone tells you not to see this movie, they have no joy in their crusty little soul. Seeing this movie is an absolute must.

In fact, I think I will see it again in the theater. This movie is far to wonderful to just catch on DVD. The big screen is definitely the way to go.

I know I always complain about work...

but there is something magical about being the utility player.

Friday I "fixed" someone's computer by actually finding the correct printer and making it her default. I'm a "lifesaver".

The copy machine ran out of staples. I "fixed" it. Meaning, I read the instructions on the staple package and accurately inserted them according to the instructions (instead of standing there staring at the guts of the open copier.)

I am MAGIC! Look upon my instruction reading and cower before me!