Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Enough with the foreplay already. PUT SCRUBS ON THE FRIGGING AIR. C'mon. I know you want to.
The show wasn't canceled. However, it isn't going to succeed with an INVISIBLE 5th season. I'm embarrassed for you that I had to point that out.
Just because someone finally pulled their head out of their rectum and started putting previous seasons on DVD does not mean that I DON'T WANT TO SEE THE NEXT SEASON.
Scrubs. The show so good that (say it with me people) if it had an ass, I'd slap it.
Friends and family want to know about this show that I adore. When I tell them, they say "Is that even on the air anymore?"
I try to defend you. I say "Well, uh yeah...but they haven't started showing the next season yet."
That's when I get the look that says "They only let you outside to get some sun and fresh air, huh. They will be back soon to return you to your room, right? How come nobody told me you had been re-located to a safe place?"
I have enough crazy going for me without your help. Just ask my husband. I'm positive he only married me because there might be some kind of Federal tax break for taking me on. So please. I'm begging you. PUT THE 5TH SEASON ON THE AIR.
Thank you for your time.
Monday, November 28, 2005
There's also now a little half brother (in law for me) who is 7 years old.
My family is divorced and remarried all over the place too, but that is another story.
This Thanksgiving, my new Father-In-Law was turning 65. Mr. Zoom and I packed up the truck and drove out for a visit. Mr. Zoom's full brother and his wife also met us out there.
I've met all of these people sevaral times before. They know I'm not the most delicate or socially capable person in the world, but I'm positive they don't know how much of a simpleton I really am.
So when driving down the road packed into a car with the new in-laws, I actually had the foresight to resist the following outburst:
"Oh my gawd. Did you see that giant rusted iron Jesus that guy has in his yard? I mean come on, it was HUGE, and it was a crucified, rusted iron Jesus. And was that a sculpture of a giant turtle and lizzards on either side? Rusted as well? PULL THE CAR OVER I NEED A PICTURE OR 5. Because the first thing I want to do when I get home is make fun of your city on the internet! Giant rusted iron Jesus yard art - that's good stuff."
And that wasn't even the mailbox part of the trip!
The other thing I noticed about Arizona, or at least this particular part of it, is the high number of personalized mailboxes out there. Seriously, these people do not take their mail delivery compartments lightly.
Witness this doggie box with missing head.
Or this cactus, looking as if it was constructed from mutated wicker.
I would have collected more examples, but most of the people appeared to be home. The LAST thing I wanted to do was raise the suspicion of a people that find rusty iron Jesus yard art to be all kinds of everyday. Know what I mean? And how did the doggie box lose it's head anyway? I didn't want to find out. I still don't. I'd rather make fun of what I don't understand.
Mr. Zoom and I were talking about how out of this gigantic desert, the people decided to build "here". The Father-In-Law said something about two rivers meeting at a particular point, and that's where the development began.
Mr. Zoom and I could see no river(s). We were told they "went underground, or something...and nobody is really sure where they went."
Mr. Zoom and I think that when running water up and disappears - that's a pretty good sign that things are dying "here", and it might be best to move along. After all, we feel that Arizona is the surface of the sun. And we are sissy white people, who hate the heat. So we will use any evidence we can find to tell the family "See? Bad. Firey hot place BAD. "
On the way home, Mr. Zoom got his favorite road trip food. A Sausage McMuffin with Cheese:
Right after he finished it, he said "This was soooo good, that if it had an ass I'd slap it."
Sunday, November 20, 2005
Since I'm not going to have much time in the next week to amuse myself with this blog toy, I'm going to leave it today with a random, mish mash post of little stuff I haven't been able to put anywhere else.
There's a guy at our office, we shall call him Big MoMo. He's hilarious. He works in our copy room, delivers mail to us, etc. That is how I end up interacting with him on a daily basis. Also, he's most obviously gay. Down to the stereotypical dress, speak and hand movements. We've even discussed the hotness of the vending machine guy that showed up to restock our machines the other day.
A couple of months after he started, he came by my desk and said the following, as if he was asking me to sign for an overnight package: "Don't take this the wrong way....but you are weird." And then he went on to the next desk. I laughed for 2 days over that. And I found it to be more of a compliment, than anything. Most people recognize that I'm weird right away, but I've never had anyone just come out and say it. I love that about him. He's got the same "oh crap I just said something right to that person without thinking" thing that I do.
One day Big MoMo and some of the girls were talking and he said "Hey, do you guys have anything for fat? You know, a creme or something?" One of the girls whirled around and said "Yes, it's called EXERCISE."
Right before the W, Big Mo Mo came by my desk and was asking me about diets. I said "Well, after the W, I won't have to think too much about what I eat. Because, as a girl you probably know that once the ring is on the finger, we are destined to blow up all kinds of large! You know all those cookies I've been passing up on? Birthday cake day and all? Well, after the W, it's on." He responded as deadpan as always "Well, as you can see - I'm WAAAAY ahead of schedule."
About 3 weeks before the W, I was with my Mom. She had wanted to go out to eat, and we all know this can be a chore with her at times. Of course we went to Claim Jumper. The thing about Mom that amazes me is that she's probably their Number One Fan, but still hasn't figured out that the person who takes your order there ISN'T THE PERSON WHO BRINGS OUT YOUR FOOD.
We made our order, and for the first time in my life the food came out super quick. It came out so fast, Mom was convinced that there was no way it could be our food, and she kept refusing to start eating it and was trying to get "our waitress"'s attention. And do you know what her evidence was? Yup. The fact that the person who brought it to us WASN'T THE GIRL WHO TOOK OUR ORDER. I've tried over and over again to get this concept through to her, but it never sticks. And the thing is, we ordered some things in a way that made it impossible for this here food to belong to anyone else BUT us. I went ahead and ate. When "our waitress" finally confirmed for Mom that it was her order, I'm pretty sure it was cold.
Oh, and this one is for Mr. Zoom. Mr. Zoom can't understand why I can't fill my gas tank at the gas station all the way to full when I go. This has been an issue with me since I started driving.
If I've borrowed a car, I have no trouble filling the tank up. I am happy to do it. But with my own car, I seem to get bored about 40 seconds into it and it's all I can do to let it keep running. I think about all the things I need to do, or the fact that I just want to be home, and I go. My reasoning - "Well now I have some gas, it's enough to get me to where I need to be in the next couple of days/hours."
This makes Mr. Zoom nuts. He will usually fill my tank for me, because he knows I do this. I also get bored waiting for HIM to fill the tank, but he just gives me a toy and goes back to filling the thing up.
Last week I got away from him with the truck and it was low on gas. I told him I'd go get some. The next time we were in the car he just looked at the gauge and started laughing one of those defeated, why did I think any different laughs. He said "Didn't you tell me you were going to get gas the other day?" I said "I did. It was at almost empty, and now it's at almost half full!"
He said "Yeah. Ok. I need to start looking for jackets that tie in the back."
Thursday, November 17, 2005
One of those upgrades turned out to be new bathmats and towels for the loos. We ended up with some brand called Hotel Collection.
While I'm detagging the bath mats, I notice on the back of the tag in teeny type were the following sentences:
Flammable (Fails U.S. Dept. of Commerce Std. FF2-70). Should not be used near source of ignition.
And then I was afraid. I mean, I've never read Std. FF2-70 - but...
Mr. Zoom kills clowns*. Dead clowns are flammable. Now my bath mats are telling me that THEY are flammable as well.
Have I just voided our homeowner's fire insurance policy?
*Clown Killing = Farts. Women's version = Releasing Weiner Dogs. It all has to do with the sound, people. Loud clappers usually sound like someone has killed a clown and stomped on his horn nose. Weiner Dogs make that little whiny noise that is reluctant and shy - like a girl saying "I do not do that, that's gross - but that one just slipped out. I coudn't help it."
Tuesday, November 15, 2005
Today Mr. Zoom started to come down with a cold. I saw my chance to take care of him for once and jumped on it. I told him to get comfy on the couch with the t.v. remote. That I'd go to the gym first, and bring him dinner later.
The gym was unusually busy, but I waited and finally got a treadmill. Then I spotted an empty flailing machine (I don't know the name of it) and went for that. Somewhere in the middle of flailing I realized I had left my keys at the treadmill. So I went to check and they were gone.
I didn't panic, because I just figured someone would turn them in at the front desk.
And of course they weren't there. So I gave the front desk my information and asked them to call me if my keys showed up. Then I asked to use the phone to call Mr. Zoom, since I couldn't get home without a spare key.
I had lost my keys. And he didn't hesitate to drive the spare key to me. And he never made me feel bad about it even though he felt like crap and just really wanted to be home on the couch. He didn't even bring up the fact that not only had I lost my car keys, but the house keys too. And they were attached to my convenience sized gym membership card, which could theoretically be used by some naer-do-well to locate our address and rob us blind.
But, while sitting on the bech outside waiting for rescue, I suddenly realized why my keys had gone to the missing place. It was the universe trying to repay me for a conversation I had earlier today.
At the office one of my attorneys was making fun of another attorney about losing things. Because I never learn, I contributed "Oh, don't even act like you never loose anything. As a matter of fact, you lose A LOT of things."
Attorney: "WHAT?! You really think I lose things? Like what, exactly."
Zoom: "You know, everything."
Attorney: "Are you saying I lose things that I am personally responsible for? Because I think you have my situation confused with a filing issue. If I put something in filing and the clerk misfiles it, then I haven't lost it, have I."
Zoom: "Ok, no. I mean the times you run over here and start waving your monkey hands around about some letter or transcript or motion - just about anything - and asking me to give it back to you...and then we find it in your office or on some desk in the library - if we find it at all and don't have to re-print it or re-order it. That's what I mean by you lose a lot of things."
Attorney: "WHAT?! That NEVER happens. Seriously. What exactly do you mean by 'I lose a lot of things'?"
Zoom: "I mean that you have a high incidence of not being able to find something I gave you, or something you THINK you put on my desk and it turns out that isn't where it is."
Attorney: "A HIGH INCIDENCE? Please, define what you mean by that."
Zoom: "No thanks. I don't feel like writing an essay tonight. Look, every attorney I've ever worked for does the exact same thing. It's not that big a deal, in fact we [secretaries] expect it. You just have way too much going on at any given time to remeber what you did with a motion/book/letter/squirrel."
Attorney: "A high incidence huh. Well, gee. I'm glad someone finally brought that to my attention. High incidence. hmf. I still think you are mistaken and it's a filing thing."
Zoom: "Yes, I was wrong. You never lose anything."
About this time Mr. Zoom came around the corner asking that we leave to go home. I further filled my karma gas tank:
Zoom: "I can't leave yet. Attorney is still being all girly over some comment I made 15 minutes ago."
Attorney: "GIRLY?! What exactly does that mean?? High incidence. Please. I DO NOT lose things.
The girly comment won me the bonus prize of the gym calling the house after I was in route with my spare key - telling me they had found my keys.
Sunday, November 13, 2005
Stupid technology and its effective web filter; in my WAY.
Got some more pictures. They are on flickr. Click this pic to go browse around if you like.
If I don't get around to commenting as much as I had the past week, yell at Mr. Zoom. He's the IT department at the office.
But make sure you do what I do. Only nag him during safety hours. Safety Hours = California Divorce Court is closed. Holidays, weekends, and anytime after 5pm CA time, and prior to [let's be safe] 7 am CA time.
Being married is a lot of work.
Thursday, November 10, 2005
The coffee maker that I used today to make honest to goodness coffee. By myself. If that doesn't tell you we are looking at the end of days, then I can send you to my Mom's house where she will tell you that atm debit cards ARE. They told her so, years ago on the farm. Back when she wore a bonnet and drove a horse to barn raisings. They told her that paper money would disappear and plastic would be issued by Satan. I always said to her "What would you guys have cared? You didn't even use electricity. How would debit cards even be a threat to you people? Were you learning about the signs so you could mock the rest of the world from your carriage?
The best thing about Mom is that she has no problem with the end of days. It's the fact that she refuses to use her atm debit card because once "they tried to make me sign the paper just like a credit card, and I had already entered my pin code. So I KNOW they were trying to take my money twice."
Mr. Zoom went to one of the stores we registered at and used some of the gift cards to buy an Espresso machine. Working that thing is all his deal. I sometimes know a bad idea when I see it, and Mrs. Zoom in a kitchen with volcano hot liquid and steam meant for teeny tiny little cups is SUCH a bad idea.
Mr. Zoom was busy unpacking the thing when I heard him say: "Honey....did you buy this?"
I came around the corner with that confused look on my face. The one I get when people ask me "can you see that over there?" and I don't have my glasses on.
I saw him holding a book in his hands. I didn't recognize it at all. I said "No...hm. Where did that come from?"
Mr. Zoom said "In here." and he laid it back in the Espresso box.
It is "Into the Garden - A wedding Anthology".
We both just kindof stood there wondering what the heck just happened. I know we were both trying to figure out how the store/krupps knew we had just gotten married, and why they would include a book in an espresso machine box? Was it magic? Because we were ready to believe it was magic, just because we are still a little punch drunk from abnormal sleeping patterns this week and that would have taken less effort.
So we opened the book to the first page, and saw an inscription:
It reads: "A long life together, the work of hearts and days. Hard work but the best a man and woman will ever do together. Mark C. Br_______ [can't make out the last name, it's just a squiggle.] congratulations."
AH. Someone had gotten this as a wedding gift and never opened it before returning it. GOTCHA.
Well, a homeless book couldn't have picked a better place to live. If Mr. Zoom ever has to file bankruptcy, there will be a line on the form that will say "Because Mrs. Zoom spent all of our money on books."
And one more book story before I close this entry.
As we opened gifts, we came accross one with no card. It was wrapped in precious moments paper. Inside was a bible. We kept looking for a card, trying to figure out who gave it to us.
I got super excited, because Zoom Logic decided that the Gideons had crashed our wedding with their precious moments wrapped bible! Of course they did. How else does one end up with a bible and no card??
Further inspection of the inside pages revealed that G-Ma Zoom on the Mr. side had given us the bible. Not that we don't appreciate G-Ma Zoom's intentions. We do. I just really wanted to be able to tell people that the Gideons crashed our wedding.
Wednesday, November 09, 2005
I'm not a fan of traditional bachelor/bachelorette parties. And it's not for the reasons you might be thinking. I'm not afraid of a strip club, I've been to many. Those intended for women as well as men. I think they are harmless fun when you trust your soon to be ball and chain.
What gets me is the feeling of obligation and cost surrounding such things. I dislike the "we have to have a bachelor/ette party because that's what people do when they get married." If it happens, I want it to be because it was natural, and not forced.
Which is why my Skillit asked me what, if anything I'd like to do. And we came up with a weekend in Vegas, with her and my other friend Magic M, or MC.
The three of us were off. And we arrived. And we drank. And drank. And drank. That was Friday night.
Saturday morning we got up to go take in some of the sites. I thought to myself "I feel a little hung over, but overall I'm doing Tony the Tiger Great. Sticking with beer the whole night was a good idea."
Though never spoken out loud, the universe heard my self-back-patting and decided it was about time to remind Zoom that being out in public is NEVER a safe place for her to be.
We were in the Venitian. We were in one of those "Hey tourists, come buy crap with light up Las Vegas on it" stores. It was one of the biggest ones I've ever seen.
So we wander around in there for probably 20 minutes. When we are in line to buy our stuff, Skillit says to me "Hey, turn around for a second. I think you have....."
And I thought that sentence was going to end with "...a dust bunny/piece of toast/teddy graham stuck to your back."
but it didn't.
There were no further words from Skillit. I could feel a slight tug, and then I heard a crinkle. And then I realized what she was pulling from the back of my jeans.....
You know butt gaskets, right? Well they have that center part. And all my life I've been pulling the center part out and disconnecting it from the entire gasket before I put it down to do its job.
Somehow, on this day, the center part had ended up IN MY PANTS! The corner was peeking out of the back of my jeans. WAAAAAVING to all the people. "HELLLOOOOO. Welcome to fun with paper products, I'm your host Zoom."
I thought I'd pass out both from laughing at myself and embarrassment. I couldn't hold it together enough to actually stay in the store. I just handed my stuff over to the girls and ran away as fast as I could.
And then the real fun began. Because every time I went to the loo after that, I'd try to re-create the event so I could figure out how it happened in the first place - and make sure it didn't ever happen again. Girl loo time is long enough without one hung over/drunk Zoom using 3 stunt gasketts at each stop in an attempt to re-create freak paper placement.
And I'd be lying if I said I'm not doing this still, almost a month later.
And here's the unfortunate thing about Vegas. It is literally California Lite. Almost everyone there at any given time is from California. So that whole "Eh, any of these people who saw that paper hanging out of your jeans? You will probably never ever see them again. They don't know who you are." Because it's just not true in this circumstance.
Which brings me to the next part of my Vegas story.
We were in the Wynn. We were trying to figure out which direction to go when a cluster of men in business suits started to move. Not only did this pack move, but they ran.us.over.
Me, not having my glasses on thinks "What the heck? What kind of business meeting do you monkeys have to get to in such a hurry that you plow over a bunch of girls? One of whom happens to be a little retarded, even."
My friends told me that in the center of the suits was our California Governator and his Wife. And then I thought "HEY, that's my Governer! I just got run over by my Governer in Las Vegas. HEY, I'M SO NOT VOTING FOR YOU!"
Skillit said "My mom is going to be so excited. She's going to change this story from 'my daughter saw Schwarzenegger' to 'my daughter met Schwarzenegger'".
Monday, November 07, 2005
I believe if you click through on this photo, it will take you to my flickr page. If you can see that, there should be a "set" of pictures regarding pre-wedding stuff.
I am sure there's an easier way to link that, but of course I've got to go and make it difficult, if not purely unusable.
Sunday, November 06, 2005
Thanks for giving him up Natalie.
I said to C less than 24 hours into our married life: "HEEE! I can make that noise and you have to file papers to get away from me!!!!!"
The ceremony went off with a few errors here and there, but nothing that anyone noticed.
I thought I'd be a complete wreck due to the "people might be looking at me" factor, but was amazingly calm. Much of that had to do with the fact that C and I pretty much said screw tradition, and were clinging to each other before the ceremony officially started. We also took official portraits before the ceremony so that I could get to the booze as fast as possible after the i do's.
He would freak out some of the guests by saying "Look, seeing the bride seeing the bride...woooooo" and walking into the room where I sat trying to see over 25lbs of lace and under dress fluffy stuff. Those dresses are fine until one tries to sit down. Then it's on.
The whole thing FLEW by.
Our officiant was a good and wonderful friend of ours who we had deputized through the County to perform the ceremony. There's a little known way to have anyone in CA deputized to perform a ceremony, and we jumped on it. We now call him Father Ka. Ka was his nickname prior to the whole Father part.
I kept trying to say we had him "knighted". And that would have been funnier if I had realized I meant deputized instead of knighted.
C wrote and deliverd a speech at the reception that was a complete surprise to me. And it made me and the entire room cry. Even the reception hall employees were seen with hanky in hand.
Our photographer who had lived 30 years in California decided one month before our wedding to freaking move to MONTANA. Of course he did. He flew in to do our wedding. He is coming back to do all of the California bookings he set up before he picked up his entire life and family and became a farmer on 18 acres of land, but still. Flew down just to fight me looking at the camera.
As I've done to many professionals, he was exasperated by the fact that I am horribly camera shy. HORRIBLY. I'm the one behind the camera. I like it that way.
At one point he grabbed the fake bust that was an insert in my dress and began to run around the room with it on his head. This was pretty much the only way I forgot about the camera until I was able to get to the booze. The guy was amazing, and everyone found him to be one of the fun factors of the whole event.
If he still lived here in CA, we would already have the wedding photos back (we went all digital, which further freaked out family and friends), but he had to GET BACK HOME TO PREPARE FOR THE FIRST FROST?!?. When we do get them, we will set them up on flickr so that you guys can get a look if you want to.
When I retrieve my own camera from my mom, I can post some of the pre-wedding pictures.
Which brings me to my maid of honor. Skillit. That girl poured her heart into making C and I the best cupcakes and sugar cookies anyone has ever had. She spent a week in actual preparation, and what had to have felt like a lifetime in planning for us. She put up with all kinds of things. And they turned out beautiful and tasty, just as I knew they would.
C and I are taking a week off to decompress. I'm going to watch all the true crime shows I can find on 356 cable channels. I'll likely choose some really crappy movie off of the Entertainment on Demand. You'd think the $1.95 fee [instead of $3.95] would tip me off - but sadly, no.
I kept some notes of things I wanted to share with the internet from before, during and after the big W, so from time to time I'll write those up.
To all of you who check in on us, and your well wishes, your comments, your e-mails - Thank You. Thank you guys for all fo the fun you've given us here.
C and I have switched sass weapons from "You know we aren't married yet, right?" to "I'll divorce you. I will."