Do You KNow Who That Is? Is it Ethyl Merman?

Mr. Zoom is the most patient and understanding husband ever built. I was lucky to get him. Much like my Chevy Silverado 2001 - he's one of the best things to ever happen to me.

Mr. Zoom also comes with a very scary feature. Mr. Zoom can see a generic, no name person in a commercial just once, and he will recognize that person in everything from more commercials, to t.v. to movies if they get that far. While watching t.v. or, really anything, I get "OH LOOK! It's that guy/girl/ DOG who was in that ad for NAME BRAND WHATEVER that ran a while ago."

He tells me that people in ads often have a group of ads air all in a relatively short period of time. Somewhat like a commercial "it" person.

Sometimes he says "Do you know who that is?", which inevitably leads to me going "who? that person or the person who they just showed?" and then we have to wait until the "target" comes back on screen before continuing... "THAT person!" And I always say "no", just like responding to a knock knock joke with "who's there?" - which allows him to continue with the listing of ALL appearances the target has made in the past, and a list of their ingredients! - he is my personal IMDB. THANK GOD FOR DVR. Because while we are doing this retarded dance, we can pause the show, rewind or just plain go over it multiple times when I have to cranially catch up with what he's just told me.

I'm pretty sure that's the worst paragraph, structurally and informationally, that I've ever created. Oh well.

So far I have resisted trying to out recognize someone before he does. In other words, I continue to not pay attention as closely - because that requires concentration. If I can't remember to pout about something for more than 10 seconds, how am I going to learn to concentrate on commercials for more than the sparklie distractions that they are.

Until.

Until my Mr. Zoom pointed something out about a specific series of commercials that are running now. You know the ones with the people talking about how they need a phone service that works everywhere they do? How they show them in about 4 different places with each commercial? And they end with a name of a place like Phillawareapragakahn? Well, Mr. Zoom told me that each of the main "actors" in each of those commercials plays a different part in the other "actors" commercials.

AND IT'S DRIVING ME MAD(der than normal).

I was fine being the inattentive commercial drone. But now every time I see one of these commercials, even if I hear one going on somewhere, I have to stop what I'm doing and compare faces in the foreground AND BACKGROUND. HAVE TO. This is exhausting for someone who can't even stay focused long enough to fill her gas tank all the way to full.

In case any of you were like me, and are now cursed to seek out the similarities in those ads like one of those "spot the changes" games - all I can say is I'm sorry that you don't have a Mr. Zoom with you to make the madness hurt a little less.

Take this example. We were on the way to work this morning when a Serge Tankian song came on the radio. He's the singer from System of a Down. He has a very distinctive voice. Mr. Zoom said "OH, it's alternative music's own Ethyl Merman!" Which will make me laugh all day...until one of those stupid cell phone commercials comes on the t.v.

15 Minutes of ... Wait, Don't Tell Me... Is it Cheese?

Saturday was really quiet at the salon. I had to go get my bi-monthly fingernail tune up and was prepared to practically sleep through my appointment, as usual.

There was a woman there who I had never seen before. She was conversing with my manicurist, so I was able to hear that she was in on her "off" Saturday due to scheduling conflicts. And who cares, right? Least of all me, who as stated above, wants nothing more than to doze through the process and be shot back out into the world so I can go home and watch t.v. on my couch.

However, this particular Saturday having been the Thanksgiving Weekend, made it really really quiet in the salon. There was only one other manicurist in there, with her own sleepy client. My manicurist started up a conversation with the off Saturday lady ("OSL"). Before long, OSL offered that she had to go out of town next week to do some training in New Mexico. And that she was cooking a huge meal "tonight" and had to find an Italian supply shop to buy some key ingredients.

Because I'm as bright as the moon on a moonless night, I opened up my yap and offered that I knew of a local Italian supply store that might help her with what she needed. She responded to my nugget of advice by affixing the site of her Unwanted Verbal Fact Cannon on my heart. I was annoyed at myself, until OSL began to share with the entire room - her claim to fame. Although she does not call it fame.

What? I know. It doesn't quite make sense yet. Stay with me.

OSL is from Roswell, NM. She was born in April 1947. Without any of us asking, she informed us that was the site of the alien crash landing, and that it happened in 1947. And that the aliens came to her parents' house and switched out her mom's human baby for her. Which I thought was kinda decent for aliens, since they could have just taken the human baby and left nothing. Right? OSL, her friends and family have and do know all of the key people in the Roswell Crash Story, Myth, Parable - whatever. At this point my love of the Lunatic Fringe began to show and I was unable to keep my body from physically jerking when she'd proceed to another thread of the story. Baby coffins and secret this and that - she personally knows people. But until 20 years ago, she says she was never permitted to discuss the events outside of her home. When asked why (and not by me, because I was paralyzed with fear and glee while these things were being said), she said "Because they kept disappearing. All the nurses involved in the event, they all disappeared."

I've always felt like this conversation would be had in front of me or by me, but I always imagined it would involve a homeless person or an institution in the background.

OSL began to wind down her story by saying "I had my 15 minutes of ..." and she was searching for the word. She motioned to us in the room in that universal "help me fill in the blank" way that people do. When I offered up "fame", she said "NO!..that's not it" and waved the universal hand gesture for "idiot" at me. She decided to finish her sentence all on her own: "I had my 15 minutes of ...... but I was too young to enjoy it."

She didn't fill in the missing word. I MUST KNOW WHAT WORD SHE WANTED, but I cannot and will not ever know. Apparently it wasn't fame. Maybe alien babies are immune to our human fame. Perhaps she said the word, but like only dogs can hear certain pitches, we humans aren't equipped to know what her 15 minutes is called.

Like Caligula Unable to Conduct an Orgy

I've noticed a disturbing trend in broadcast television lately. It's that highly distracting, godawful blur out of people's faces and products. I HATE IT! Does anyone consider what happens to a mind like mine when blurr out shows up unexpectedly? My thoughts are sent spinning out of control like Darth Vader's stylie Tie Fighter at the end of Star Wars. Angry, evil and tons of time to sulk about it.

"Gee, I wonder why that person's face is blurred out. Did someone use a name, a face, an eyebrow that belongs to someone else? Who could possibly be upset about being on t.v. in some background, where I wouldn't even be looking EXCEPT FOR THAT BLURRING OUT THING THEY DO? Isn't this shot on a public street? Don't the people making this show realize that they are making their show look like my brother's prom picture from 1982? Back when people thought that fuzzy blur effect was kinda neat? Back when we all didn't know any better? Now I'm just annoyed and angry...and need to pick a fight with my husband."

WHY must I participate in this ocular rodeo?

AND, they are now blurring BACKGROUND ART. I could have sworn I was watching a re-run of Seinfeld the other night and a painting or picture in the background was blurred. WHO.IS.COMPLAINING? WHO? Because I demand the right to poke that person - all those people - right in the eye with my remote - left eye first, then the right if they don't agree to balls up and stop ruining one of the things I love most in life. TV shows.

THIS IS COMPLETE BLURRSHIT!

Where does the madness stop? Because apparently shows that were created and broadcast long before someone wadded up their undies, put them on and ran to their attorney with dollar sign pasties are not left alone. It's as bad an idea as Ted Turner colorizing classic films. BAD.

Let's just go ahead and castrate the entertainment industry using our court system. Who isn't excited to live in a world where all we are left with is memories of better times? That'd be neat.

Tagged by Pie

So Coconut Cream Pie (CCP) gave me a tag and the only prescription is more cowbell. Or, answers from me?

Four Jobs I Have Had In My Life:

1. Restaurant Research - telephone and in store surveys of fast food restaurants. This was before the internet changed marketing completely. I think they still have "mystery" shoppers though. I had NO life and I was in high school. I was a star employee, or so they said. As soon as I got a boyfriend I was outta there.

2. Mail Boxes Etc. - Pre-UPS/FEDEX/Kinko's mail merger store blobination. MBE was one of the only places licensed by the post office to sell stamps AND be a "post office box" location. We did HUGE business with UPS shipping. Christmas was fantastic for picking up more hours. I liked the job because I was on my feet a lot of the day and packing up packages for people. I was in college when I worked there.

3. Target. Cashier, planogram and for .5 seconds....receptionist. The sat me down at this huge board with blinkie lights and said "answer phones." There was no denying I sucked at that. So they sent me to planogram and part time cashier. I sucked at cashier too. Also, because of the employee discount - I never left with more than half of my paycheck. It wasn't a huge discount, but hey, anything off already low prices on crap you just don't need is reason enough to buy.

4. Secretary/Paralegal at a law firm. It's what I do now. I love what I do.

Four movies I can watch over and over and over:

This always changes around for me. But for now it is -

1. Billy Madison
2. Wizards
3. Dream with the Fishes
4. Monsters, Inc.

Four tv shows I like to watch:

1. The Soup on E
2. Scrubs
3. Family Guy - which I JUST found in syndication. Talk about missing the biggest funny boat ever!
4. The Office

Four places I have vacationed:

1. Ireland
2. Vegas
3. Thailand
4. Chicago

Four Of My Favorite Dishes:

1. Filet Mignon from Turner New Zealand
2. Flat iron steak from what used to be Rouge and is now French 75
3. Fish and Chips from The Olde Ship
4. Gringo Burrito from Rutabegoraz

and an illegal 5. Store bought chocolate cake directly out of the tin foil pan it came in.

Four websites I visit Daily:

1. Google
2. Court webpage with all the homepages of all CA courts linked
3. Dictionary/Thesaurus dot com
4. OMGkitty dot com [over in my links as "Pimphand!"]

Four Places I would rather be:

1. In a bookstore with unlimited, disposable income.
2. At home on the couch with Mr. Zoom and a Tivo full of new shows.
3. Photographing anything and everything.
4. Looking through my family's photo slides from the 60s and 70s.

Four bloggers I am tagging:

I'm still thinking about the cake. So tag yourself if you like.

"I don't even need to be here for this conversation, do I."

The time change. Oh, how I love falling back. Or what I consider returning to the REAL time. I don't know who thought robbing me of an hour of sleep for 6 months was a good idea. And then extending it? I continue to be bitter about that. My epitaph will probably read: "Here lies Zoom. Maybe now she will shut her yap about the injustices of Daylight Savings Time."

Mr. Zoom sometimes tries to go to bed before I'm good and ready for him to go to sleep. It is, quite literally where the "zoom" came from. My ability to verbally poke him when he's trying to start his slumber is not legendary yet. Although it will be when our story shows up on 48 hours because he decided to reclaim his God given right to go to bed whenever he feels like it - by taking me on a "camping" trip that goes tragically awry.

Last night was one of those nights. We were in bed and I kept filling the night air with my own voice. At times playful - others, trying and combative - and at ALL times annoying for poor Mr. Zoom.

In the middle of my one way rant, I felt Mr. Zoom's hands on my back. I said "Oh no you don't. Don't go trying to calm me with your kind, understanding, gentle hands." And that is when he ever so gracefully put me in my place. He replied "Oh, I'm just trying to make sure you stay over there [your side of the bed] ...

I like to call it ...

Crazytown."

And with that I laughed until little tears of joy sprang from my eyes. And he finally got to fall asleep.

Wrong Place Wrong Time Wrong Pen

I was trying to get a document served. I was working at the copy station, and I reached for a pen that was among probably 150 other pens - living in the Giant Bucket of Pens. These seem to be the community pens, the orphans, the abandoned and chewed upon. Normally I bring a pen with me from my desk. Not because I thought about it - it's just one of those habits.

Like when Mr. Zoom is driving us somewhere and I've got my own car keys in my hand. Even after I've gotten in the passenger side of his car.

I was busy putting together labels for the service when I noticed big blue fingerprints all over the proofs. The pen didn't even have the decency to stop gushing ink when I began looking for the source of the blue. I had grabbed the one pen in the Giant Bucket that had hemo-inka-philia .


I threw it away and then realized I should probably try and wash the ink off before it set in. All I could hear was my mother's voice scolding me for drawing on myself. Sure, not the same as taking a pen to your arms and legs when you are bored and 11 years old, but no matter. The same impulse that makes me hold my car keys even when I don't need them is the same one that is tuned into my mother's lecture frequency. Like satellite radio. She's in between the stations.

I went for the small kitchen on our floor that is close to the copy center. There's a sink and always soap in there.

Unfortunately there's also coffee in there. One of our Big Deal Partners was in there getting some coffee when I came barging in with my hands in the air like I'd been scrubbed up for surgery. I turned on the hot water and went right for the soap. I used lots of soap. I scrubbed long and hard. So much so that the hot water got very very hot and I hadn't been paying attention.

I mindlessly stuck my hands in the water to rinse. Before I knew what happened I realized I'd jerked them out of the water and shot HOT, SOAPY, INKY WATER all over one of our Big Deal Partners - and the room.

OMG.

I apologized and flailed. I Chevy Chase'd my way through the rinsing process and started handing out paper towels. Luckily whatever suit he was wearing was dark. He got away annoyed, but as far as I can tell, un-inked.

And it didn't budge the ink at all. It took two days of showering for it to finally disappear.

The Wise One; Ninja G

Upon learning of a blog by a mutual friend - He who is known as Ninja G authored the best one line e-mail responses I've ever seen:

_____________________________

From: Ninja G [mailto:xxx@xxxx.com] Sent: Tuesday, November 06, 2007 1:37 PM
To: All The Monkeys

"How do you people have time for blogs? I barely have time to fart out-loud for all to enjoy."

What Just Happened?

Southern California decided to become a Giant Ring of Fire the week before I was to be in an outdoor wedding. Friends, family - people I didn't know but was feeling extreme sadness for were displaced and scared - everywhere.

I couldn't concentrate on anything but the news for nearly a week.

I'm relieved to say everyone I personally know and all family got through the fires very well. Damages were limited to stress over the situation, but physical and structural damage was nil. Except for the ash and smoke which we are ALL still dealing with.

I hope everyone who lays eyes here got through it safely - family and friends of yours as well.

The Friday before the fires broke I was at work when an e-mail flashed on my screen with the title: "Monday is Jesus' birthday." Because I'm a nitwit, I said "What? Monday isn't Christmas."

And since we are discussing Zoom Christmas retardation - it is time to reveal that when I was a kid I could never understand how it was OK for us ... people... to give Christmas gifts to each other. I knew the story went that three wise men gave gifts to Jesus when he showed up all those years ago. So when people started exchanging gifts all these years later because of that - I thought it would be seen as the gift giver saying to the recipient "You are now Jesus and I am a wise person. I am giving you a gift because of that."

And I knew enough to know that wasn't an ok thing to think, much less act on.

And I couldn't understand why we did it year after year after year. Further, when someone said "She/He is playing God", I thought they meant someone got caught accepting gifts as if they were "Jesus".

Apparently I had a little trouble separating God from Jesus - as well as symbolic gestures of gift giving. And thinking a little too much while not thinking enough.

I wish I could say I've grown out of that.