I suffer from this. (reg. req'd.)
I suffer from this. (reg. req'd.)
I'm wearing thigh-highs under my skirt today. Not on purpose. I had these new pumps (Stuart Weitzman, black croco slingbacks that I got on sale for $99.99!!!) and I wanted to wear them but I din't have any hose. Except for these thigh-highs. So I've got on My Friend Vicky's sexy lacetops.
Note to self: when wearing thigh-highs, skip the thong and go with the lace boyshorts, lest one feels as though one is wearing no underwear at all and reminding oneself a little too much of Paris Hilton. Ick.
Can you even guess how many times I have called 1-800-GO-FEDEX this week?
This time, the very important package that absolutely, positively had to be in Park City, Utah overnight can't be delivered because Sundance has all the roads closed.
Update: Hmm. Apparently the first customer service representative didn't know what the hell she's talking about because we've found the package and it's STILL IN MEMPHIS! Because it MISSED ITS FLIGHT! Can't seem to get anyone to explain to me how a package sent for overnight delivery still hasn't left the city almost 24 hours later. 2:42 p.m.
So I've been so busy defaming the largest employer in my city that I forgot to tell ya'll that I had a great meet up with Snidge last night!
It was so great for me, because I think of her as like "Top Memphis Bloggergirl." You know, like our answer to Dooce. Someone lots of people read. Talented. Insightful. Fun to read. Comments out the ass.
But for the big name and all, she was totally cool. Or maybe she was just trying to make a lowly blogger wannabe feel like it's OK to approach the celeb.
Seriously, it was great meeting her. It was weird in a ...weird sort of way. Like, we know a lot ABOUT each other without actually KNOWING each other. So I guess in a way that creates awkwardness. But we seemed to slip into a groove pretty quickly. Just go ahead and get two moms talking about their kids and their kids' school.
BUT WAIT! Let's reposition that. Two YOUNG and HOT moms. Yeah. COOL MOMS who drive COOL CARS. And wear COOL SWEATERS AND BOOTS.
Yeah, you're gettin' the picture...
Yesterday I sent a very important work package to New York via FedEx for First Overnight delivery. That means it's supposed to be delivered by 8 a.m.
It's now 4 p.m. EST and it still hasn't arrived.
I've been tracking the package online which has been no help at all since it's supposedly been "On the vehicle for delivery" since noon.
And this is the SECOND TIME IN THREE DAYS they have done this to me so it's a little hard for me to have any compassion for your fucking "service delays."
Both packages shipped from Memphis - the HOME of FedEx - to NYC - the BIGGEST FUCKING CITY IN THE COUNTRY - So I'm not really sure why it is that they can't seem to get it there on time.
But I guess all the FedEx employees were out celebrating their new NASCAR so they couldn't be bothered to get my package on the plane in time.
Fuck. Fuckety Fuck Fuck.
I got an email back from Mitch the funny weather guy today. And here's how he remembers me:
You know what is soooo weird--- I was just thinking about you last Friday! I doubt if you remember, but you went to Ron Jon's surf shop or something in Daytona and you brought Steve back some Sex Wax for surfboards. You gave me a bar of it too and I thought that was so cool. The reason I remember was that I was on a cruise and I was thinking what to get for my co-workers. Stupid, I know.
Last night while I was sitting around watching AI with the family, my brother called me. Which is really unusual because, even though he's the only person in my family I ever make a point of speaking to, it's sadly limited to birthdays and holidays.
So my brother, whom I will call "Steve," because that's his name, and really - how much identity protection do I need to offer him? It's not like someone who knows us and reads this site is suddenly going to realize, "OH! It's THAT Kalisah, the one with the brother STEVE! Hell, I know them!"
Anyhoo, Steve tells me that he was just watching this show on NBC about the funniest moments on live TV and he saw an old friend of ours - Mitch English.
(I started to give him an alias, but given that he's FAMOUS already, there's really no since in hiding his identity either, right?)
Steve told me the name of the show that Mitch is on so I went and looked it up online. Turns out it's a national morning news show "delivered with personality" so given what I know about Mitch, I wasn't really too surprised to see him here.
For one thing, I saw him doing weather on a TV station a few years back when we were on vacay in Destin, so I already kind of knew that he was on television.
And as far as the personality part...well...let me give you a little background on Mitch.
Mitch moved into our small town the year after I graduated high school and his family went to church with my family. He and Steve were sophomores in high school together and got to be pretty good friends, even though Mitch was a nice upstanding Morman boy and Steve was probably getting high under the bleachers. (What? I said PROBABLY!)
Mitch was elected "Most Humorous" (don't call him the "class clown") his first year at LBHS. And in a small town like mine, you have to be popular to get voted anything, and it's not easy for a newcomer to break into that inner sanctum. But Mitch had that kind of ability. He had that kind of infectious personality.
When they called his name at the student assembly as having won, he ran down to the front and did the Pee Wee Herman "Tequila" dance. The crowd went beserk. They loved him.
His family moved to Florida before he graduated, and I later heard that a tragedy befell them that affected Mitch deeply. My dad told me that he was never quite himself after this which I thought was really really sad, since hisself had been so funny and personable before.
But hey! Looks like Mitch has bounced back! According to his web site he is doing stand-up comedy (he'll be at the MGM Vegas Feb. 4) and has been in a few movies and television shows. Go Mitch!
So, we don't get the show here. If you get The Daily Buzz in your market, do me a favor: tune in one morning and let me know if he's any good.
(And, ummm, for the record - I never dated Mitch.)
As I've said before, I enjoy watching all these people in the early episodes of AI. People who think they can sing. Ridiculous, far out nerds and hipsters and funks and punks and krunks. Whose friends tell them they have the best voice ever!
But cripes, if I have to listen to Paula Abdul tell one more person how they need a better "image" while she sits there at the table, all smug and cheeky WITH A BANANA CLIP IN HER HAIR, I am gonna hurl.
Honey, I have a couple of newsflashes for you: First of all, it is no longer the 80s, even though I can see where you might be confused, given that that was the last time you enjoyed any semblance of popularity. Also, you're not an A-cup so quit trying to smush your boobs into those strapless tops thinking that you're creating some kind of fabulous cleavage.
On a brighter note, how cute was that young African-American kid with the braids and the A-M-A-Z-I-N-G voice that cried when he told his church that he was going to Hollywood! I guess I'll keep watching as long as he remains in the competition. Even though I may have just subjected myself to an entire season of pop divaness.
working so much...long days. all weekend...so brain dead...seriously. I poked it. No response. Can think of nothing interesting or entertaining or creative to say...so tired...check back with me later.
Another reason to be proud of the state I used to call home: the American Family Association. (May require one-time, free registration.)
And here I just thought Sponge Bob was annoying. TURNS OUT HE'S GAY, TOO.
Nothing like running into an old boyfriend on someone else's blog...
I had no idea he was so popular.
Sixth grade is teaching My Kid the 14 Stages of Power Writing. I relate it to the "new math" my mom struggled to understand when I was in school.
As I have stated before, I hold a college degree in Journalism. I aced the English section of my college entrance exam. Like bloggers everywhere, I rock at usage. Yet, last week, I was reduced to begging you all, my fellow writers, for assistance with My Kid's homework.
Now, I must share this with you. You simply won't believe it.
He is on Stage 7 of Power Writing. Tonight's homework required rewriting sentences in six different ways. Other than the individual instructions for each rewrite, the only rule was that you couldn't use the "be" verbs.
Here is the example sentence:
"There are two reasons an engine roars loudly."
And the sample rewrites:
1. With strong active verbs
The engine roared loudly for two reasons.
2. Ask a question
What two reasons caused the engine to roar loudly?
Ummm...that doesn't really have the same meaning as the original sentence, so how is this a helpful skill?
3. An exclamatory sentence
The engine screamed loudly for two reasons!
I tried to explain to My Kid that a good writer NEVER uses exclamation points!!!! But then, I was taught (way back when) that for it to be an exclamatory sentence, it has to start with a word that is generally a question, i.e.: How loudly the engine screamed!
4. Open with an adverb
Last week, the engine roared loudly for two reasons.
OK, that is the suckiest sentence I've ever read in my life.
5. Open with a prepositional phrase
For two reasons the engine roared loudly.
Possibly the second suckiest.
6. Verb precedes the subject
Loudly roared the engine for two reasons.
That last one is the one that I just could not get my arms around.
His assigned sentences were:
"There are two problems that rain can cause at a construction site."
"There are two foods that I enjoy eating."
Everything I could come up with ended up sounding like Yoda:
Enjoy eating two foods do I.
What kind of shit is this? I would really like for someone to explain to me how any one of these lame-ass examples produces a better writer???
Whew. OK, my fury has been calmed. Thanks for listening. Actually, once I settled down a bit, I remembered that I backed up my archived emails to CD about a year ago. And the last six months' of emails are not archived yet, so I'm really probably only missing about six months' of emails. That's manageable.
So don't forget: watch American Idol tonight. Now I know that I've claimed before that I am anti-reality show. And I am. And I will NEVER watch the glorified talent show once it turns into serious pop divaness. But this part at the beginning? The tone deaf part? It's great entertainment.
If you missed last night, here's a few highlights:
So tune in tonight to see what's in store! (I think this year the producers have given the judges explicit directions that if the singer is really, really atrocious, let them sing for a long time while you all take sideways glances at each other.)
There will be a test tomorrow.
I just found out that when I got my new PC after the holidays, I LOST ALL OF MY ARCHIVED EMAILS.
You can't imagine how badly this sucks for me.
And you can't possibly imagine how pissed off I am at the motherfucking "Help" Desk.
You know what instructions I got before I changed PCs? They told me, "Save everything you want to keep on a network drive."
Yeah. That's it. Now, I didn't have to save any of my other Outlook folders. SO HOW IN THE NAME OF ALL THAT IS HOLY AND GOOD WOULD I EVER FUCKING KNOW THAT I HAD TO SAVE THAT ARCHIVE FOLDER???
Would YOU have known that?
God, I'm so pissed. That's it. Fuck all. I'm leaving early.
Rude Cactus is going to be a DADDY! How exciting is that? You should definitely go over and tell him congrats. Tell him Overdressed sent you.
Chris, I'll be sending your wife some New Mom Chic web sites where she can shop and pamper and feel good about her pregnant self. Humor her. It's her time.
Practice with me now, "Yes, dear..."
Just that I don't believe this particular source. And here's why (well, besides the fact that it IS the Star):
Is Brad Pitt wearing an ASCOT in this photo?
Yeah, I'm pretty sure this must be a scene from the movie where they play a husband & wife. Not some romantic stroll down a charming Italian street.
Even in Italy, I can't see Brad, in all his stylish glory, tying a scarf around his neck.
From now on, for the rest of the day, whenever you say hi to someone, sing out "Hell-ooooo!" like Mrs. Doubtfire.
Shit, I'm bored.
So, remember last summer? When I lost my keys? Well, they never did turn up. Luckily we had an extra set at home. And luckily nobody's stolen my car.
Tonight, out of the blue, Big Daddy said, "I wonder what ever happened to your keys?"
"I'll find them when I die," I said. "That's what happens, you know. That IS the afterlife: everything you ever lost is there to greet you - keys, sunglasses, umbrellas, gloves, socks..."
I tried to support my theory with an example of something HE'S lost, but I couldn't think of anything he's permanently misplaced. Sure, he loses his keys everyday, but I can always tell him where he's left them. That's my job. I'm the mom.
So then, I got to wondering? What have YOU lost? What's waiting for YOU when you go?
Is was quite a night, was it not? Have I mentioned that I once attended a star-studded gala in that very ballroom? Yes I did. Anway...on with the night's review.
First, is it a rule that you have to be really, really annoying to get a Red Carpet show? It was absolutely chosing the lesser of two evils...Star, or Joan & Melissa? I despise them all. I flipped back and forth a little bit, but mostly settled on Star, who seemed to be grabbing the celebs first. Her interviews were horrid. And what was with that huge underwear line around her waist? Anyway, the only reason we watch the Red Carpet shows is to get a first-hand glimpse at what the stars are wearing. We don't care for any of your comments. Someone should let E! and TV Guide know that.
Runner-up Worst Look: Paula, honey, this dress does not fit you. Oh, you created cleavage all right. UNDER YOUR ARMS!! Breasts are meant to be round. I have no idea what shape you'd call these. And also, get rid of that big 80s flipped-over hair bang. Or better yet, just quit appearing in public altogether.
So I'm guest posting over at Snidget this weekend. Which I was totally thrilled about being asked to do. I mean, really. How cool is that? This is the first time since I started blogging that someone's asked me to guest post. And it's SNIDGET. (Whoa.)
And seriously, the pressure is ENORMOUS. Really. How does one live up to the reputation?
And my goal (as put out there by Casey) was not to post the same things HERE that I post THERE.
So please. PLEASE. I have a desperate question that My Kid's homework depends on. PLEASE go over to Snidget and check out the post. And leave your comments. Or leave them here. Or whatever. Email me at email@example.com. Just send me an answer, dammit!
We'll pause now for this public service announcement:
If any of you know where these photos might be posted somewhere out here on the internet, please send me the link!!! I think my life would be infinitely more fulfilled if I saw Jamie Foxx naked.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled blog.
OK, make fun of me if you must. But yes. I watch The O.C. We started watching it last year right from the beginning.
And by "we," I mean all of us. Me. Big Daddy. My Kid. It's one of two shows we all enjoy together. The O.C. and Lost. After that our tastes take separate paths. I'm all Desperate Housewives and Gilmore Girls and SATC reruns. They're all Dave Chapelle Show and South Park and Monster Garage.
But we *heart* The O.C. I know, I know. It's the 90210 of the new millennium. But Shannon Daugherty, et al, never had this witty repartee. The O.C. has great writers and that's what makes the show so great. Certainly not the storylines, I'll admit. But the dialog is ingenious.
I will give you that the show was better last season than it is now. But I don't care. I still like it.
So look. On tonight's episode? DO YOU THINK THAT WAS REALLY PETER GALLAGHER SINGING?
After seeing Marissa (Mischa Barton) completely massacre good fashion sense