Tales of Superbowl Woe…

Someone told me that there was a football game on last night.
I was busy trying to drink away my inherited family.
Highlights included, but not limited to:

• MIL standing rightinthedoorway when we arrived with a bag and large crockpot
• Aunt staring me down while stating that “99 degrees is too hot for kids to be in a hot tub”  As if I am supposed to know this random fact.
• Another Aunt asking why it was too hot and my reply “because it cooks their brains and then we feast!”.  I’m sure you can imagine the look THAT got.
• Jock Jams
• Realizing that a number of items on my iPod are from Jock Jams
• Dial-up interwebs.  No, I’m not kidding.
• DrunkenUncles dog continuously humping Steve’s leg
• Under-5 child showing other Under-5 children where the cellar door is, followed by the strict warning not to open the door
• Mispronunciation of “celery” (how? “sal-a-ree”)
• Dry contacts
• Another Aunt’s SUPER CREEPY boyfriend
• That same aunt’s 14-year-old daughter sporting leopard velour pants with a cami and 3/4 of her bra sticking out. AT A FAMILY EVENT.
• Frozen shrimp ring
• Mass confusion over arrangements for family members to attend FRIDAY’S hockey game
• Not winning squares
• 2-1/2 year old pronouncing my name “Ta-eff-an-ee”.  Okay, that one was cute.

Chocolate Fix

Some people (looking at you CWG) seem to think that I’ve gone completely joyless.
To prove you wrong, here are some happy things.

1) My changed lifestyle-contingency medication is “so far so good”.  Since Sunday, I have not had a headache so bad that I gave serious consideration to taking an ice pick to my temple; thus the reason for the change.

2) My friends and I went out to dinner at Melting Pot last night with $5 of each of our dinners going towards cancer research.  Plus, there were drinks.

3) Afterward, one of the girls and I went to Penny’s and I let her dress me up.  “I’m the Anthony Bourdain to your Stacy London!”, I exclaimed as we made our way toward the register.
My purchase?
Something I NEVER EVER EVER considered.

Not actually me, nor the actual vest (mine is grey with pin striping)

I purchased a vest.
“I feel like a project!”, I said.  “You ARE my project!”, she giggles.
And today, I have donned the vest.  Thought I don’t have a “real” photo as it’s hard to take photos of myself and I’m not going to any of my co-workers to ask them to take a photo because that sounds like a can of worms I don’t want to open.

4) With last weekend’s near-sub-zero temperatures, I thought I would give a science experiment a go.
In case you’re not familiar, when it gets to be booger-freezing cold out, bubbles are supposed to freeze.
I.E.

Seeing as we do not have any “real” bubbles in the house, I decided to concoct some.
(For the record, “catnip bubbles” suck)
Also remembering that it’s been years since I’ve done any bubbling and that it was like, 2 degrees out, I opted to practice before heading out.
Bailey was amused.

Soap is tasty!

waiting

so close!

vicious!

It is here somwhere...

look, I sparkle

(P.S. bubbles didn’t freeze but I did)

5) And this gem just came into my office.

Three Embarrassing Moments

1) After washing and drying my iPod (note, while unreadable, it still works), I was listening to it while tilling the yard this weekend.
It falls off my hip and onto the ground.  I pick it up and it’s “frozen”.  I’ve heard of this problem.  I start worrying.  I can’t even get it to turn off.  How do I tell Steve that I re-broke my iPOD.
I decided that perhaps the battery was dying, not that I could tell, and perhaps a charge would give  life back.
Upon closer inspection, four days later, I realize that the “hold” slider has slid onto “hold”.  I move the slide and functionality returns.

2) I am out on a road trip with a couple of friends.  We stop at one of New York’s finest rest areas.  Having some “female garbage” to dispose of, I make the deposit and as the door comes down on the box, the entire unit falls through the wall into the adjacent stall, spilling its contents.

3) At that same rest area, I hang my keys (I was driving) on the purse hook as the weather was nice and I didn’t have room in my purse or jeans for keys.  We get back in the car, take off down the highway and are about three minutes down the road.
I have a shocking thought…. “Oh my god.  Did I leave my keys in the bathroom?!

Mystery Solved

If any/all of you have been wondering where my sense of wit comes from, perhaps this email banter will answer any questions.
(It’s worth mentioning that I live in Western New York and my parents live in southern Arizona and have been for the better part of four years)
——
From: stephanie
To: Dad
Subject: Clothing to Goodwill

I’m knee deep in spring cleaning mode and just wanted to make sure (again) that your long black dress coats and winter jackets are okay to purge.
I can’t remember what you said last time and my luck, I’d donate then and you’d need them for who-knows-what.

From: Dad
To: stephanie
Subject: re: Clothing to Goodwill

Hello our WONDERFUL daughter,)

If it is my Cashimer coat, you should do it in a garage sale and keep the $ as a storage fee. 
Yes every thing else you can do with as you please, maybe a “Huge Yard Sale” “Buy this Shit my Parents Left”.  We do want the momentos (not to be confused with Mentos(C)) and photos (who would want photos of me besides TMZ )  Good luck with the sale and let us know how much you made.

Due to Popular Demand

(I guess I didn’t realize how much my work mishaps interested people…)

A co-worker and I are walking outside, discussing the weather (it was a legit discussion!) and I hear a voice behind me talking as well.
It was mentioned that the parties ride had not arrived. I thought that there were two people behind us, so I paid no mind and continued my conversation.
When I got into the truck, I realized that there were only three of us in the parking lot.

You know that person (and you all do) who tries to wedge themselves into an “A” and “B” conversation, especially when no one was really talking to them?
I revert to my Brick Tamlin commentary.
“COUGH COUGH LOOK OVER HERE!”

Perhaps this leads into another topic…
At what point is joking acceptable?
Is it if you’re cute?
If you’re capable?
If it’s actually funny?
I ask as I began wondering if when I say things that I think are funny regarding causal observations, is it really funny?
Nemmie and I made a similar comment regarding something the other day.  While I thought I was super witty, I rolled my eyes (in my head of course) at an almost similar response from them.
Perhaps I’m not as witty as I thought I was or perhaps I’m less tolerant when it comes from someone else… although all similar responses do not warrant similar behaviors.  I guess what I’m saying is, if someone I don’t have such a cringe reaction from says something funny, I laugh.
What line in the sand differentiates?

P.S.
It should be mentioned that while Nemmie was singular in the past, I think that perhaps there’s some kind of mitosis going on…

Nemmie Behavior

Despite the affection for “soft rock” station and it’s lies about more variety, my coworker and I get along pretty well.
We share a common confusion about Nemmie and Nemmie Behavior.

For example, Nemmie often wanders into the conference room.   When no one is in there.  Due to the angle of our seats, we can’t see what they’re doing in there.  Not that we should care, but we’re curious as to what warrants 5+ visits to a darkened conference room a day.
Curiosity got the best of us and we started signaling to each other so if one of us was up, we could look and see what he was doing.
Less to say, Nemmie caught onto the fact that we were yelling “CAW-CAW!” when conference room activities commenced.
Oh and rumor has it that Nemmie was blankly staring at the wall.
Seriously.

I can tell when Nemmie’s having a slow day, because they get all predatory on the fax machine.

Yesterday, my co-worker is waiting for some important, confidential, paperwork to come through the fax.  However, she wasn’t able to be there the entire time so I rolled over to her desk and commented, “Don’t worry, I’m sure that if your document comes over, Nemmie will hand deliver it to you.”
And we snicker.

In addition to already noted bizarre behaviors, Nemmie will skew their paperwork in  your inbox and make some kind of noise announcing the arrival of more work.
We have to share a binder and Nemmie needed it (which isn’t a big deal) and returns it with a boisterious THUD.
THE BINDER HAS BEEN RETURNED!

Reverting to the confidential fax, when my co-worker returned empty handed from the fax and Nemmie walked over to check the machine, I coyly mentioned, “You know, in their natural habitat, the salesperson has been know to be quite territotorial.  Prey should exercise caution around the salespersons area, especially the fax machine.”
She laughs and says, “Yeah, they may drag me into the conference room!”
And then it occurs to me.  “That must be where the carrion is hidden!”

It’s a fact.

It’s a fact.
Everyone poops.
Sometimes people have to poop at work.
Most people have done this at least once.
Pooping is natural and, more often then not, stinky.
This, however, does not make it acceptable, or necessary, for you to dispense approximately half of a can of “floral essence” after you finish your business.

I usually don’t post things like videos, but this is funny (I think)

Found this over on cracked.com
It starts a bit slow, but once facebook shows up, good times.
Enjoy.

Bailey is Special…

To foster learning the adorable trick of hiding, the dog trick book suggested to put a sticky-note or something that will make your dog want to scratch it’s face.
So I find some stickies and press one on the side of Bailey’s lip.  She looks confused.  She stares with her telekinetic ways towards the pouch of my hoodie where the treats are.
The sticky falls from her face, not missing a beat, she catches it in mid-air, eats it and goes back to staring at the pouch.

I wonder about her sometimes.

Nat.Geo. Comes to the Office

Our fax doesn’t ring, but it’s quite loud when it prints.  If you’re waiting for as fax, you can just listen for the whirrrr-click-click-click and walk to the machine.

Imagine, for a moment, that Nemmie is a hawk and the fax machine is a stuffed bunny.

This is what happens 9 out of 10 faxes.
Not that that bothers me, but
a) What exactly are you waiting for?
b) What aren’t you doing that you can wait to pounce on the fax?
c) Why do you leave the fax on the machine if it’s not for you?