can someone tell me why...

When I was looking for christmas list ideas on Oldnavy.com and I clicked women's clothing and then see all, this picture appeared?





I'm almost certain this dog is not a woman. This is definitely not a woman's jacket. I think they're using it to cover up his masculinity and I bet when he modeled this coat, he did not know he would be misrepresented as a woman. I think he should call the ACLU. He's definitely got a case. Meanwhile, why don't they sell this coat in Freddie's size? I think he'd look cute.

One more reason I know I'm marrying the right man.

I fell down on the way into work yesterday. I was wearing my brown knee boots. Or my FMBs as many people like to call them, except the heels are low, so I don't think they encourage Fing as much as hand holding or something equally innocent. Anywho, they're very slick. I've slipped and slid a few times before in these shoes. I actually had a little sliding action going on on the front porch before I even left the house, but thought it was because of the dew. They're just naturally slick shoes, but they're cute and look especially cute with my little plaid skirt, so I suffered for the cause.

Evelyn and I had just won a challenging round of Frogger trying to dodge traffic in order to make it in to work and thought we had come out of it victorious when I went down. I stepped out with my right foot, but heel did not catch as heels are supposed to and instead kept right on going in a rather lovely "Bring It On" kind of move. The left leg didn't feel like doing the splits yesterday though and instead just dropped to the knee. Evelyn, also demonstrating why we are friends, kept right on walking. Another woman exclaimed some kind of concerned statement and I quickly collected myself and got right back up, so as to avoid any further embarassment.

When I told this story to Freddie, after checking in to be sure I was okay. The first thing he asked was, "was anyone around? Did anyone see?" I answered and he said, well that's a good thing. You could have fallen right in front of Dr McSteamy.

I'm bringing sexy back

I found this ad posted coincidentally on a website that mocks celebrity fashion. Over the picture was the title "Think Outside The Mall." You know what, if this is what is to be found outside of the mall I'm going to have to say, thanks, but no thanks.

Is it wrong...

that this made me cry?

I'm sorry, Jim

Do you have a tv boyfriend? My mom and I were talking about this last weekend. Someone on her morning radio show was talking about her TV boyfriend, when mom was telling me this story, I instantly knew who my tv boyfriend was (and still is). Jim Halpert. I love Jim. You see Jim and I met about 2 and a half years ago when I was living in Richmond and he was living in Scranton. I knew him before anyone else did. Well, I'm sure someone else did, but no one who really mattered. I'd heard a little bit about him while I was hanging out with my other Friends, Rachael, Monica, Chandler, Joey, Ross, and Rachel (who have since left me, but we still have many fond memories of our years together). I decided to check him out and I was instantly impressed. It seemed we shared a chemistry I had not experienced before. At first I was embarassed to be the only one laughing at our jokes, but I got over that pretty quickly. I found myself trying to tell one little story about him to my friend, Trey, only to ramble on for 30 minutes about everything we'd shared the night before. It was amazing. Jim has it all. He's cute, but not in an intimidating way, he's kind, he's smart, he's funny...Jim is so dreamy. We've really been through a lot together. We've both moved and changed jobs, we've had ups and downs in our personal lives. We've gotten quite close.

Last night, I spent some time with Jim. It was a big day for him. He moved back to Scranton and I was wondering if he was finally going to work things out with this girl, Pam. (They've had some trouble lately.) I know Jim is just my tv boyfriend, he's not my real boyfriend, but my feelings for him are real...stop laughing, I'm serious, they really are. So, I was pretty upset last night when things didn't work out as I hoped they would. The chemistry was still there, but Jim and Pam could not work it out. As I sat on the bed watching in pain, unable to do anything to help, I heard Jim tell Pam that he was kind of seeing someone else and I heard myself shout, "YOU ASS HOLE!!!! SHE LIKES YOU!!!!"

So, I'm sorry Jim. I know you're doing the best you can. But, we really do need to sit down and have a heart to heart. I'm afraid we've both got our priorities mixed up...I'm wondering if we need some space...but, I cannot resist your eyes.

I'm famous.

I found some new friends online, which is good because I have a hard time finding friends in person, but the doctor assures me that the smell will go away soon. Unfortunately, I'll be contagious for a while longer. But, I digress...

These girls are cool and they like me. Well, they like me enough to put my name in a post...that's the same thing, right? Seriously, you should check them out...it's good stuff. Of course, to know that you'd first have to check me out. Oh well, sorry Melissa and Lindsay.

why public access tv is a bad idea

I was flipping channels just now when I found a show called Cool Readers. It's hosted by a big bald guy who wears a Cool Readers t-shirt. In the middle of the O's are some to little spots that I guess are supposed to be pupils. I'm not sure.
On the show the guy chats with two kids about a book that they enjoy. He asks them a series of questions and then offers them an opportunity to read two pages of the book.
I get the impression this guy has been hosting this show for a while because it seems like some of these kids are regulars, but he still seems quite goofy in his role. He laughs at his own jokes, most of them jokes the kids don't quite get and has a really hard time pronouncing a few words, like maybe his favorite book ought to be the dictionary. He's got kind of a flamboyantly gay southern accent and reminds me a lot of the mom from The Nutty Professor-every time he gets excited about the conversation, I expect him to start clapping his hands and shouting Hercules! Hercules!
The first set of kids I saw were a boy and girl who were both going into 8th grade. The boy brought the book Harry Potter and the Half Blooded Prince. First Jarrod told us a little about the book, (This guy is clearly not Matt Lauer-he hasn't even read the book jacket before the kids come on the show) and our host tried his best to chat him up from what he knew about the series from watching the movies-he admitted he hadn't seen this one yet, yeah Mr. Coo reader that's because it's not a movie! (Kind of reminded me of the time I was at the elementary school Read In Sleep In and the Charlotte Observer reporter asked me what I'd be doing if I were at home. I told her I'd probably be watching TV and then listed the entire Saturday night line up...I really liked Golden Girls. Coo reader and I had clearly missed the point.) Our friend then proceeded with the questions, who is your favorite character-Jarrod likes Harry, Coo reader thinks Ron's pretty cool and he actually called him a chap! After saying just about every word wrong they got on to Jarrod's reading of the story. Do you know which pages Jarrod chose to read? (warning here comes a spoiler) The pages where Dumbledore is killed! So, just in case he inspired you to read the story with his thrilling synopsis, there's no point now since you know how it ends. Plus, he could not have been any more boring. Way to take an exciting scene and kill it, Jarrod!!! He kept stumbling and mispronouncing words and then starting over. It was so painful. I instantly flashed back to 7th grade when we had to read out loud and the other kids would read like that. I would get so pissed that when it was my turn, I would read as fast as I possibly could to show my disgust. (Once again, I missed the point, and just showed all of you what a geek I am...like you couldn't guess since this post is all about a show I watched on the School Channel.)
The poor girl on the other side could hardly stand it either. She sat there so zoned out, staring at her fingernails like she was thinking, "damn, I need to get some fill ins" asJarrod read and read and read FOREVER painfully telling the details of Dumbledore's death.
You know what was the worst part? I sat and watched the next segment with two little girls (Mr. Coo Reader loves sisters!) for another twenty minutes and it was just as painful. I feel sad for the poor children of Winston-Salem. This guy is no Levar Burton.

no wonder

Yesterday I went crazy with domesticity. Perhaps something in me was preparing for soon to be status as "wife", I don't know, but I went crazy. The house I'm sitting has a great kitchen, so when I finished preparing dinner, I decided to try a weight watchers recipe for chocolate chip cookies. After I made the cookies, I was a little afraid they might be nasty and I had a lot of chips left, so I went ahead and made a batch of full fat ones too. I creamed, beat, mixed, and scooped for an hour and half and then I felt inspired to tackle the pile of laundry and the stack of dishes. When I was finished my back hurt so much, I couldn't enjoy the mound of crispy cookies and clean laundry. My back kept hurting into the night and today when I went to fold the clothes in the dryer it started screaming again.
A little while ago, I dug through the mail, hunting for my post card from Switzerland, and found a catalog along the lines of those catalogs on the airplane---you know the ones with all sorts of inventions to tackle the inconveniences of life you didn't even know existed. In one picture was a toilet with a pedal...huh? Intrigued, I read on, this handy little toilet attachment is targeted toward those germ freaks who don't want to touch the handle of their own toilet, but it has added benefits. Apparently, it promises to cure joint and back pain! Who knew that I was causing so much damage to my back by simply flushing the toilet. And to think I actually thought it was from hunching over all day! I'm so glad I found that magazine!

slam 'em college

For those of you who didn't know, I went to a women's college. Actually I prefer to say girl's school, but I know my fellow alums would not appreciate me saying that, so there you have it. The name of my school was Salem and just like any good institution, we have made quite a name for ourselves...my favorites are Slam 'em college and Salem Sluts.
The most common response I get when people find out that I went to an all female institution is, are a lot of the girl's gay? I usually go into a long explanation of the difference between LUGs and lesbians, or talk about the variety of ways people use college as an opportunity to try on new roles and how Salem is such a small school so you just know more about people than you would somewhere larger, or I try to feel out their theological/political point of view and enlighten them because although I'm a minister, I'm not so much conservative, but ultimately what I realize is that they're not really interested in the sexuality of my peers as much as they're asking whether or not we regularly dressed up in our nighties for an evening of pillow fights and cuddling. The answer to that question is, of course, a resounding, yes!
So my current top friends list is dedicated to the lovely ladies of Salem-good thing the trees are virgin because the ladies sure aren't!

holla

I've been puking my guts out all weekend and just came down from a crazy fever and now I'm on-call for the next 24 hours, so this is going to be short and sweet. I was really thinking the other day about two people who really helped to make a miserable day not so much and so I wanted to say cheers to these lovely ladies.
Sandie, my wonderful friend who keeps me grounded and centered at work with off color humor and encourages me to just cry and be kind to myself and will scrap her plans for the next couple of hours to help me do so. Thank you.
Joy, my myspace friend, who is quickly becoming so much more than that. Joy shared her love of sushi, which I turned around and shared with Sandie, who was not as appreciative :), and bought my dinner on one of our very first dates, when we really may not have been at that point in the relationship and then helped make the terrible horrible no good very bad day after a little better by surprising me and picking up my maggie moo's bill after she had already listened to me bitch and moan while dipping everything I had into my assortment of sauces at chic-fil-a, or as grandma likes to say chic a fil. Thanks to you.
Oh, and I've got to add two more ladies who made the time pass a little more smoothly while I was screaming into the trash can. Mom, thank you so much for coming up here and taking me to the doctor and then playing nurse all weekend. You're the best. Evelyn, thank you so much for pausing your on-call recovery and montreat escape to make me tea and buy me sprite, and for calling to check up on me. (You also helped make the other horrible day better by letting me vent and offering a hug too, don't think that went without notice. beans!)
Okay, so not so short, but surely sweet.

my simple life

my simple life
I was driving back to Winston on Saturday after my relaxing vaca to the Dominican Republic (more on that later) when I heard the dj talking about Paris Hilton---I was kind of zoned out, so I didn't realize she said the next song was by Paris Hilton. When that fact dawned on me while listening to the song, I sat there kind of irritated. Paris Hilton thinks she's so wonderful and what has she done? She's just become famous because she has enough money to go out and party all of the time. She can't seem to maintain any kind of a relationship. She has a body I could never even dream of having, but really, is her face that pretty? I remembered hearing a while back that both Paris and Nicole were planning on recording and at first thought Nicole probably had a chance (although I forgot that she isn't genetically related to Lionel), but Paris' talking voice is so horrible and squeaky it didn't seem like she'd have a chance without serious editing. Then my mind wandered to the possibility that if I had endless money to work with, my voice could probably be tweaked enough to record a successful album (I do a lot of thinking in the car). But, you want to know the worst part about this whole listening episode? I actually liked the song. I'm waiting to hear it again :)
Stars are Blind
I don't mindspending some timejust hanging here with you'cuz I don't find/ too many guysthat treat me like you do. Those other guys all want to take me for a ridebut when I walk they talk of a suicidesome people never get beyond their stupid pridebut you can see the real me insideand I'm satisfiedoh no, oh-ohCHORUSEven though the guys are crazyEven though the stars are blindIf you show me real love, baby, I'll show you mineI can make you nice and naughty, be the devil and angel, tooGot a heart and soul and bodyLet's see what this love can do-oooBaby I'm perfect for youAh-ah-ah-ahI could be your confidantJust one of your girlfriendsBut I know that's not what you wantIf tomorrow the world endsWhy shouldn't we be with the one we really love?Now tell me who have you been dreaming ofI and I aloneOh no, oh-ohCHORUSExcuse me for feeling this moment is criticalIt might me feeling it could get physicalOh no, no, noCHORUSRepeated and stretched out with plenty of oooh-ooohs

wedgies

Man, today I really wished I were one of those nerds who carries their phone on a little clip on their belt (you know who you are), but alas I am just one of those nerds who carries a pager--and unfortunately for you fine folks it is not a camera pager because I would have shared a good picture with you today. As I was leaving my adolescent psych group today (no I am not a participant, but I am in fact the leader), I spotted a lady using the phone in the elevator bank. I was first surprised by her odd suit...at first glance it seemed to be a striped suit, but then I noticed that on the sides of the jacket and down the sides of the legs, like tuxedo stripes, were patches of khaki. I sat there staring at her thinking this was a very unpractical purchase since first, it was kind of ugly, and it was also not very practical, because it seemed to me that it would go out of style very soon--if it ever actually was in style---and suits usually aren't cheap. Still waiting for the elevator, I kept staring at her and wondering if maybe she had concocted this masterpiece herself...perhaps the striped suit was too small and the khaki suit had a stain and so she ingeniously stitched the two together creating a new one of a kind quilted suit, I was pondering this (sometimes the elevator is very slow) when I spotted the best part of all...the wedgy! This poor woman had an insane wedgy and of course if it were just her underwear I probably wouldn't have noticed, but I did because what was shoved up her fanny was the quilted suit--and not the quilted part that might have camoflauged her crack with it's crazy blend of stripe and khaki...there was no hiding this thing...that girl had her pants tucked so far up her crack that she might as well have been naked because she was displaying a very clear view of her booty. For a minute, I thought of those glamour magazine spoofs where some poor girl roams around manhattan with her fly unzipped or toilet paper on her shoe to see how kind/cruel the world is and how many people actually help her out and I debated about whether or not I should tap her lightly on the shoulder and let her know about her unfortunate circumstances, but instead, I just stepped onto the elevator and cursed myself and the fact that my phone doesn't work very well in the hospital so I didn't have it with me to take a picture of this woman's plight, because isn't that what a camera phone is for afterall? If you don't believe me ask my brothers and the 15 of poor girls who sit in front of them in their classes with their thongs hanging out.

alkjdoiure

Have you ever tried to post something on a blog (no, okay, I'm the only nerd in the room today), or make a payment online, or something of that nature, and gotten a prompt to enter a series of letters or numbers that let the computer know you are a real human and not a secret virus attempting to pay other people's sprint bill? Those things are so random. Who comes up with them? Today, poor Joy has lost something very important, and I was writing to get her to spill the beans on what it is and after three failed attempts, I was finally allowed to post by typing oombrlbaa--i mean, seriously, what is that? That sounds like a magic wand spell from Harry Potter, or perhaps something a witch would shout right before she killed you OOMBRLBAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Or like the name of one of those giant purses celebrities are carrying these days. I tell you, those celebrities and their 8 million dollar 39 gallon purses, what will they think of next. But, anyway, who comes up with these codes? I want that job. Or, actually, you know who would be great at that job, my finace. Freddie would rock at that job. He loves to make fun of how quickly I type, by rapidly slamming his keys all over the keyboard. I bet he could come up with some great codes. I don't know if he knows how to make them all slanty and blurry though.
For your viewing pleasure, I was hoping to post a picture of Jessica Simpson carrying the new Prada Oombrlbaa, but I don't know how to post pictures on here. so sad.

I'm so lucky

Did you know that....
Rick Mears won the Indianapolis 500 on the day I was born (in Indianapolis, IN) in 1979...and he won it every year after that when it fell on my birthday?
Johnny Depp and Vanessa Paradis had their first child, Lilly Rose Melody on my birthday in 1999?
Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie had their new little girl Shiloh Nouvel on Saturday-my birthday!
(I think these two births definitely mean I am destined to have a BEAUTIFUL child--Gavin Rossdale and Gwen Stefani also had their child the day before my birthday!)
Too bad I'm just lucky for other people!

you know what drives me crazy?!

In the computer lab at work there are three rows of desks, and the middle row has places to sit on each side, but the computers are only on one side. It really drives me crazy when someone comes in to sit at those seats on the other side and makes it so you have to squish through to get out of the row, or slide your butt over somebody's shoulder so you can answer a page. Come on people! There are a hundred empty seats in the main part of the library, why did you come into the computer lab if you aren't going to use a computer!!!!!!!!!!!!

in the words of Gomer Pile...surprise, surprise, surprise

I just realized that I never officially revealed my secret. I'm engaged! I wanted to hold out for a bit to have time to share the good news in person wherever I could, but I'm afraid that someday I'll run into someone that I was meaning to tell in person, with my children and husband in tow and realize, oops, I forgot to tell you that I was engaged! So, here you go, I am. It was all very wonderful and exciting and was also happily captured on film by the little man at Disney World who takes pictures in front of Cinderella's castle, who was just as surprised as I was when Freddie got down on his knee during our photo. Freddie says it's cheasy, but we're cheasy people. But, I don't think it's cheasy I think it's wonderful, and it was surprising (although I do wish he had given me a hint to put on some make-up and brush my hair!). Plus, everyone knows I LOVE DISNEYWORLD.
We had a wonderful day and everyone was so nice and went out of their way to help us celebrate. We even got to be on a morning show, that will air in 60 markets! I think this is going to be the beginning of a wonderful career for me.
I just updated my profile picture to share the love, so here you go, now you know.
ps-I'm really not reading this book, but I like to post something cute on the blog, so I searched, bride and found this. Maybe I'll pick it up.

Tom

I was checking out the friends on my myspace list and thought I'd check out old Tom's profile. I looked at his pictures and realized, hey, Tom is actually kind of hot. hmmmm....
I just read an article about him in Newsweek too, I'm thinking this myspace thing hasn't been too bad on his checkbook either. Too bad I'm taken.

I'm a liar

Yesterday, I was working on a big project in the library, so of course I was checking my e-mail and obsessively looking for a distraction from said "big project". I checked the pages of the 3 blogs that I read daily (2 girls from Salem, hello Joy and Emily and one that was linked to their pages) hoping that one of these women would not let me down. Alas, there was a new post on Dooce.com (funny stuff, check it out) and after I read it, I noticed that she has a daily picture section that I had never noticed. She's been posting for quite a long time and so there were a lot of pictures to go through. So there I was, mindlessly clicking previous and checking out the pictures one by one, when the lady sitting next to me smiles and says, is that your family? (I instantly felt panicked, she's going to find out my secret, I'm a loser who enjoys reading about other people's lives for entertainment) So, I did the only thing I could do, I smiled slightly and said no...just friends.

I'm Going to Disney World, I'm going to Disney World!

Does anyone remember that song? Well, it's not so much a song as a jingle. I am notorious for remembering commerical jingles and tv theme songs. Many times, I don't realize that they're just songs for the purpose of advertising when they pop into my head. They're great catchy little tunes. I mean, seriously, who doesn't feel excited when they hear, whooaaoo looks like we've made it, we're kids innnncorrrrrporrrraaaaaated! When my brother's were little they loved the chicken tonight commercial, I feel like chicken tonight, like chicken tonight. They would sing it all the time. Chicken toni-ight, chi toni (they were little, they didn't sing so well.)
But, that has nothing to do with what I was going to write about. As the title says, I'm going to Disney World! I'm actually only going to Savannah tonight, but tomorrow, Mickey, here I come. That is of course if I don't get arrested for busting a cap in someone's ass...no I'm serious. I'm not just saying that because it sounds cool and I'm mad, I might really have to do it. Some little freakshow over at The Orlando Welcome Center is f-ing around with my reservations (for one of the four vacations I booked a few weeks ago) and he says I don't have any, plus he's lying to me and telling me he's a manager, which my travel company assures me is not true.
So, provided I don't rip him a new one and get arrested for it, I'm headed to Disney, and if they don't have a place for me to stay, Cinderella might just have to scoot her booty over. Some folks might think Disney is for babies, but I think they suck! I went to Disney for the first time when I was sixteen and I absolutely loved it!!! They have so many great ways of sharing their "Disney Magic" with everyone. Of course it's fun to find some of them by yourself, like when Smee and Captain Hook made me dance when we took our picture, or when I got pulled into the parade with the Lion King crew, but as I've been hunting for tips about lines, etc on-line, I'm starting to learn a little bit more about the scripted "magic." For example, I'm planning on being the first one to a particular shop in the Magic Kingdom so I can wake up tinkerbell (I'm not telling which shop or you might try to beat me and I will not let you take away my dream). I also know where some of the hidden Mickey's are and I know which carousel horse is Cinderella's favorite. (The only one with a gold bow on his tail, but if you're on him when I'm trying to ride, I will push you off.) I'm pretty bummed that all of the reservations for Cinderella's Royal Table are taken (I want to go in the castle so bad!), so I'm going to make up for it every chance we get! Watch out for your toddlers!
We're also going to Islands of Adventure, which is very cool and thrilling (yes, evelyn, even you'd think so) and Sea World-I can't wait to feed the dolphins.
So, think of me celebrating Cinderella's coronation, or riding Spider Man (the ride silly, of course old Tobey is rather cute), or feeding the dolphins, while you plug away the day in your cubicles and I'll try to send some pixie dust your way!

Dude Looks Like a Lady

So, I just uploaded my picture onto myheritage.com. They've got a cool face recognizer that tells you which celebrities you look like (thanks, emily!). The first time I did it I got Christy Turlington (not to shabby, eh!) and the nice African American lady walking by in the background got Anne Frank (muy interasante!) So, I tried it again with a picture of me and three friends from graduation these are the people I look like.
Jawaharlal Nehru, I should know who this is, huh?
Marc Anthony
Carl Sagan
Sania Mirza (who?)
John F. Kennedy
Jake Gyllenhaal-I'd like to climb his cold mountain...
Ronaldo
and...wait for it..
Jared Leto. I love Jared Leto (does this mean in some weird way that I'm into incest?)
How come they're all guys?

smells

I have a very keen sense of olfaction. I'm serious, it's amazing. I can smell things a mile away. I'm sure right now you're thinking, we must tap into this ability, Amanda must use her powers for good not evil, but hold your horses, like any superhero, I too have my weakness. Superman's weakness is Kryptonite, mine is hot nuts. No, not those kind of nuts. The kind they sell in the mall...at that little kiosk.(*see footnote) Those nuts kill me. To some they may indicate a sweet treat awaits them in the center of the aisle, but they attack my nose and immediately send convulsions to my stomach. I literally had to throw up after I left the mall one time because of those nuts, and a stomach bug too probably, but those nuts definitely sent me over the edge and they never touched my lips.
I can smell things from miles away. Sometimes I'll be walking to my car and I'll find myself paralyzed by a particular odor. I heard on NPR recently that women associate more memories with smell than men. So many times I'll smell the air and think it smells like Indiana, I'm not sure what it is, but it does. Last weekend, I was walking to my car from my mom's house and the beginning smells of spring reminded me of a day when I was twelve years old (this was a really nice thing because usually the smell of crape myrtle's and freesia will just about put me in bed for the rest of the day.)
For some reason, right now the computer lab in the library smells like lasagne, and I'm starving. Every so often, outside of the library, it smells like a hair salon. I still haven't figured that out, I hope they're not testing my aveda products on some monkey downstairs, but it did remind me that I'm 5 months overdue to get my hair cut. (My appointment is on Thursday.)
My mom went to a wedding for one of her clients at work that must have had the same problem as me as the invitation indicated that odors were prohibited from the wedding. The poor girl had to turn away her perfumed guests and she had to use fake flowers--unfortunately no one told her that you can actually find them in colors other than orange. Don't make me have to do this for my wedding too. Just so you know...I can't handle perfume either, however, if you are a fine smelling black man, come on in. I hope this doesn't sound racist, but I cannot resist the smell of a black man in cool water.
My college roommate and I were very generous about sharing our microwave, unless you wanted to cook popcorn, then you better take your butt down to the basement. You know that smell does not go away. Last week, one of my colleagues was making popcorn in our office in the Chapel Basement. It made the entire chapel narthex smell like popcorn. I think the grieving folks appreciated that. It's much more fun to feel like you're going to the circus than a funeral.
(*Why has every mall in America taken so kindly to the kiosk by the way, it's just like in middle school when they built a new school and immediately needed trailers, why can't we anticipate our shopping needs from the very beginning. I have a system to maintain, up one side down the other, I can't be bopping back and forth from store to kiosk, I am bound to miss something that way)

The Magic of TV

I really like TV. I like it so much that it inspired me to work out in high school when my mom cancelled our cable and my friend told me that the bikes at the Y in Charlotte had their own TVs attached. So, for a few months I pretended to be a young man named Charles (I used her brother's pass) and reacquainted myself The Real World. (Oh, yeah, I also worked out too...kind of.)
The other day I broke down and tried on a pair of gaucho pants. (Big flowy cotton shot/capris like things-who would have guessed we'd think they were cute?) I could not have looked more disgusting if I tried. The way those pants hung on my thighs made them look like to freshly stuffed quielbasa sausages. I quickly ripped those suckers off and vowed that I would once again find a gym. Weight Watchers is not enough. All of this madness was accentuated by my purchase of not one but 3 vacation packages yesterday. (It came across the fax machine at work as if it were destined for my vacationing pleasure alone, and I'm a sucker.)
Joy told me that I could go to Salem to work out for free, and understanding the magic of tv herself, enticed me with stories of cable tvs loaded with HBO-and MTV. So, I geared up around 9:30 last night to give it a shot. I only had to try the code lock for about 17 minutes before I was on my way. The new gym is very nice...not like the scary torture machine we had when I was a lass and had to walk 12 miles in the snow to work out. There were two girls on the treadmills when I arrived both fashionably decked out in their yoga pants. I cannot work out in pants-for some reason I have a serious sweating disorder in the glands on the backs of my knees and my calves-besides I needed to regularly eye those sausages so as to motivate me.
I hopped on the RFD (you may know this machine as the elliptical trainer, but Nathan calls it the RFD-robot feet of doom-and I think this is much more appropriate). I don't actually like this machine because I cannot regulate it. I hop on and instantly my legs are spinning like the Roadrunner, but my lungs can't keep up and before you know it I've passed out hitting my head on the machine on my way down. I've got to go to the ED and get my head sewn up, it's not a pretty picture. However, I DID NOT want to actually stand next to these girls, so the treadmills were out. Joy warned me about some folk's tendency to hog the tv, and although I wanted to be one of these people, I did not want to call more attention than necessary to my presence, so I watched what they watched. One TV was tuned to the gauntlet, the middle tv to basketball, and the third to American Idol. So, I plugged my ear buds into the machine and switched between two stations---can you guess???--of course! Not basketball! The girl in front of me (in the too tight yoga pants), I soon learned was a clapper. I don't know what she was cheering for, but I'm pretty sure she has Tourette's Syndrome and I know this because I watch Miracle Workers (once again, television has improved my life). Every now and then she would just bust out with 5 rapid claps this was particularly odd because you can't hear the tvs unless you use headphones, so except for her clapping the room was silent. I finally figured out her claps were in relation to the programming and after a bit of shrewd observation, I learned that she was not cheering for the game, but was in fact clapping for American Idol. She was not happy with the final results btw.
I only did the rfd for 10 minutes. That's about all I can handle. I watched the rest of my shows from the comfort of a variety of exciting machines and contraptions. Near the end of my time, two girls came in and kindly reminded me that I am not in college anymore. They pedaled away on the rfd for an hour. I kept wanting to shout at them-you won't look like that forever!!! Take advantage of it now...put on a thong and parade across campus because in five years you'll want to hang yourself in the Old Navy dressing room after you realize that Bob Evans could feed a nation on those sausages you call your thighs. But, I restrained myself. I did, however, hop back on the RFD for 30 minutes. I AM AMAZING. I am strong. I'm invincible. I AM WOMAN! The girls got off the RFD and stretched for a bit-I don't stretch...too boring-then hopped on the treadmill for a little run. I HATE THEM. Oh, I did have to take a quick break from the machine. I got thirsty and though I could hop off for a water break. But, the water was hot and caught me off guard, which choked me, and made me cough, and the water came shooting out of my mouth and splashed on the rubber/tile floor. I'm sure the girls must have thought that the old lady was vomitting in the back corner from the workout, but they trusted I could handle it on my own and did not come to my rescue...thank God. Once I gave myself the heimlich on the water fountain and returned to regular breathing pattern I was off and I finished the whole program! Hooray for me!
I rolled out at about 11 and made my way home...but first I stopped at Harris Teeter and bought 15 packages of light yogurt. I can't resist a sale!

Harassing the homeless

So, I promised in my first official blog that I would tell some intersting chaplain stories. This is not particularly related to being a chaplain, but it did happen at work.
A bag of BBQ baked lays is 3 Weight Watcher's points. When I was on-call the other night, I only at 2/3 of the bag, so I had roughly 1 point of chips remaining. As I made my exit at noon the next day after working 27 hours on-call I remembered the remaining chips and got so excited. I pulled them out to eat as I was walking out the chapel door and headed to the overpass to get to my car. From behind me I heard someone say, mmmm those chips sure look good. (I should tell you know that I have quite the relationship with the housekeeping staff at this hospital, particularly the male members of the team. We do quite a bit of flirting during the day, or rather they do and I try to figure out if I'm being sexually harassed--this is the beauty that is Amanda, my extreme naivete because I'm pretty sure that 92% of the time, I am.) So, I thought this was just a prelude to another of our romantic exchanges and seeing as how I hoard each and every one of those delicious points for myself, I was not going to turn around for fear I might be asked to share, so I just said in a very perky voice, YEP!!! They sure are tasty! and shook all of the crumbs into my mouth! Then I turned around and smiled and walked away. It was about 1.5 seconds after I turned around that I realized...that guy was homeless! I just chirped away about how tasty my potato chips are then walked off. Clearly, I've learned nothing from Arrested Development. And, so I just want to say sorry to that man. I'm sorry I didn't share my chips with you...Go 'head Mr. Wendal.
I saw a man with no clothes, no money, no plateMr.Wendal, that's his name,no one ever knew his name cause he's a no-oneNever thought twice about spending on a ol' bum,

It's hard out here for a pimp

Random thoughts I'm having today
-I need more e-mail. I often find myself obsessively checking my e-mail. I keep it logged on, so that I can keep clicking over to see if I have some. I get more and more frustrated everytime I check it and there are NO NEW MESSAGES! I realize that a lot of this problem could be solved by actually replying to the ones I have already been sent, but alas I am to lazy for this. So, instead I check my bank balance again, see what's coming on tv tonight, look up random things on the internet and wait... Please don't make me wait anymore.
-Some people think this picture is of me hugging a large penis. It's not. It's actually a large snowman that I had no part in building, but Greg says he did. I just wanted it to look like I had built it, so I got my picture taken with him. Plus, I thought he was pretty cool. There were no snowmen in my life this year.
-Someone in this computer lab keeps sneaking out heinous SBD farts. It's really awful. I thought it was the doctor sitting next to me, but they've continued since his departure, so he probably thought it was me. The first one caught me so off guard that I almost puked up my lunch. Since then I've been holding my breath. I could leave, but then how would I check my e-mail? So, instead, I'm just being slowly poisoned by noxious gas...and ingesting someone else's ass air.
-I've recently become obsessed with reading blogs. I kind of like them because they feel like spying. I found two girls from Salem online with blogs and liked reading them so much that I felt guilty, and realized I felt like I knew them more than I actually did, so I outed myself. Now they're my computer friends. You can find them with my other friends and read their blogs too. I just finished reading all of Emily's past posts and now I'm sad that she doesn't post 30 at a time, because that's how I like to read them. I'm almost finished with Joy's and then I don't know what I'll do. I did however find that I enjoy reading this one lady's blog, you may have heard of her, she was in glamour recently, and she's been writing forever, so that's got me set for a while. You should read her recent story about working out. Especially if you enjoyed my blip about the sbds in the computer lab. You can find it here: http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/03_08_2006.html
-My car is finally fixed. I like having four windows!
-I'm really happy for 36 mafia and their Oscar win. I think it's exciting when something unexpected and unconventional breaks up an old white guy's party, but I don't like that song. I like rap, but I don't like that song...well, at least I didn't like it when they performe it on the show. I like 36 mafia too...I really like that song I gotta stay fly y y y y y y y y till I die ie ie ie ie ie ie ie ie

I got robbed!

I accidentally parked in the wrong lot yesterday morning. Well, not so much accidentally, but not exactly on purpose either. If you don't know the rat maze that is baptist employee parking it won't make sense, but I'll tell anyway. I tried to park in this one lot thinking I'd really enjoy the walk back to the car because it's very springy outside these days, but it turns out that the space I saw was a handicapped space, and seeing as I'm not handicapped, I couldn't park there. I couldn't exactly get out of that lot and didn't really have time to climb to the top of it...lots of speed bumps, it's a slow drive...I saw a secret entrance to my usual lot and not sure if I was really allowed to go through that gate, but knowing I was short on time, I tailed a lady through the gate (meaning, I didn't swipe my card, but followed her closely so the gate wouldn't smash my car). I did see a sign on my way in that said 2nd shift parking only-all others will be towed. Oops this wasn't a secret entrance to my lot, but a secret floor. Well, I'm not really second shift, but sometimes I do have to work 27 hours, so the second shift is surely during some of that time, so I figured what the hell, I'm running late. I parked right by the steps and hightailed it into the office for morning report.
At the end of the day, I was kind of worried I'd have a ticket and was actually talking about the lack of security in my lot, so I figured I was safe. (can you see where this is going?)
So I walk out to my car...a little early because I was trying to stop by Hallmark to get Freddie a card for our 5 year anniversary of dating..and when I got to my door I noticed that the bottom left corner of my backseat window was shattered. Somebody cracked my window and didn't leave a note...then I realized I was standing on glass and that that bottom shattered portion was actually all that was left of the window!!!! Somebody broke into my car!!! Now, here is the really weird part. There was a lot of crap in my car--it was a real mess--Freddie had actually suggested we clean it out that weekend, and if you've ever seen his car, you'll know how bad it must have been. But, none of the stuff had been touched, except for a 2 liter bottle of Diet 7-Up that I had seatbelted into the backseat (long story that involves puking and other gross things). They had the nerve to bust up my window and only steal a 2-Liter of diet drink. WTF?!?!

eeewww!

So, I woke up on Tuesday morning with ear pain. Sounds weird, but the pain was worse when I yawned and since I'd also had a nightmare the night before, I was particularly sleepy, so I was yawning a lot. Anyway, I yawned all day and kept feeling this sharp pain in my ear. It was also making this weird squishy noise when I would touch it, kind of like water in your ear, but not exactly. One of the best parts of working in the hospital is Employee Health. Coming from someone who averages one sinus infection a month, it's really a perk to be able to run over and see a PA for free and get some meds. I had just been there last week, so I was a little embarrassed, but I headed that way fearing an infection.
The PA who saw me said everything looked really good, something was appropriately shiny, but he did say, I bet you have a black dog, don't you? No, I said, but my boyfriend's roommate has one. Why? Well, he said, because there is a black hair in your ear. (GROSS!) He was encouraged that it wasn't on my eardrum, but was perhaps rubbing up against it when I yawned or pressed on my ear, so we would need to remove it (yes, please!) So, the PA proceeded to wet a q-tip and shove it very deep into my ear (in my head I'm hearing my allergist who was very firm when she told me I should not stick anything larger than my elbow in my ear-of course something that size wouldn't help at all-but I have been trying to be careful). It took everything I had not to elbow him in the gut as he probed deep into my ear a few times unable to remove the pesky hair. Finally, he got it out enough to get the forceps and remove it fully and sure enough there was a hair just like the thousands that cover Gus the big black dog's body. My ear is still a little sore from the probing, but the yawning problem is gone. He told me about one man who had a cough for three months until they removed a hair from his ear. Can you say, eeewwww!

Chaplain's Blog

So, this is really my first attempt at blogging. I think I could be pretty good at it, because I have a tendency to spill my guts out on e-mail to people I really don't know that well. The first time I ever read a blog was when a friend of mine (more of a casual friend from church) had hers linked to her IM and I read it. Well, she apparently has the same problem I do and really poured her heart out for all to see. My other problem is that I'm really quite nosy, so I, of course, read the entire thing. I found myself in a weird predicament where I knew all about how she fell in love with this guy and their relationship struggles, etc....mostly things she probably wouldn't actually tell me herself, but I discovered legally. I felt like she and I had this really deep connection because she'd told me all of her personal secrets, but I realized later, she really didn't...she didn't even know that I knew them.
So, this attempt at a blog really isn't going to be that kind of a thing. It would just be too uncomfortable for all of us, don't you think? But, I do find that a number of funny things happen to me...or at least I think they're funny---well, maybe not so much funny as evidence that I have very few social skills, but still stories that I think deserve sharing none the less. So, now rather than me subjecting you to them against your will, you can read them at your leisure...of course, I probably will still subject you to them anyway, so now you'll just have to hear them twice...they really are funnier straight from the horse's mouth anyway.