Downtown is KOOOKY

Its another hot one here in the office. Oh - have I told you the a/c is broken? Yeah. Well, I have resorted to being a whiny bitch about it. Its not like I've ever busted my ass at outdoor manual labor as a job. I wouldn't know where to begin. I have always worked inside a cooled building. (bless my heart) Which most of the time I bitch about being too cold. Actually, I haven't really said much about it over the last two weeks (that's how long its been) and how it has been 86 degrees in my office every day. Today it made it to 87. Pow! The pool of sweat below my chair is laughing at me. I wonder if I can siphon it and make a sweat sprinkler? Set it in front of the tiniest fan in the world - like the one right next to me - and make a cool mist blower. Invite coworkers over to my office to play in the sprinkler. We would frolic and laugh and jump. Then someone would ask "Hey! That's funny. You don't have a faucet in here. Where are you getting the cool mist?" I would say, "I think it's coming from the fire sprinkler. I'm not really all that sure." Anyway, one of the vendors came by about an hour ago and took us out for ice cream. The thing that kicked ass the most is that we went downtown to get it. Anytime I'm downtown, I'm a happy girl.
When we were riding in the sales van to get there one of the other girls made the classic jab at downtown that "its too weird' and "you have to be careful" and "don't leave us there". It made the green monsters in my frontal lobe agitated and I wanted to say, "no, it's cool" and "its culture, dummy" and "why don't stupid people see the beauty in art & architecture & creative people"??? Help me understand this crazy myth that people believe about downtown being a black hole that will molest them, sodomize them, handcuff them to a parking meter and force them to drink micro brews until they eat Thai food. I don't understand ignorance. Well, its something wrong with this particular person because on the way back to the office there was jazz on the radio and the vendor/rep said with this kind of music we should've gotten martinis instead of ice cream! Ha ha ha...salesman laugh. I, of course, was like 'Yeah! Right on!" And right before I could get that out of my mouth she quickly stopped him and said "No. I will just take a sweet tea."(hahaha conservative laugh)
He smartly said, "A long island iced sweet tea?" wink wink
(Me in my mind: HELL YEAH! Bring it.)
She says, "No. I've got only so many brain cells and I need all of them. I can't afford to lose any. And I've got 3 kids and need to be able to take care of them if they should call me in an instant."
Point taken.
BUT... And it's a BIG but...that point kind of sucks. I assume I will need to grow up here soon and live by those same rules. But I donwanna! Wah.
All in all, here is my take on her. She is a SUPER-conservative MEGA-republican christian who is afraid of downtown and hates alcohol. No shock there. And that's fine. To each his own. Just don't let your lives pass you by without experiencing your own home town in all of its beauty. And chill out and have a margarita once a year. Or don't.
Just give it to me. I will drink it in this office, that I really do love, that just happens to be 87 degrees.

Dream Hangover

The sleep I had last night is comparable to dog vomit. It was one of those nights that you are consciously aware that you are in the bed trying to sleep but you know you're not. Instead of being in a sleep coma - which I love - I was slightly awake, slightly drowsy, kind-of-sort-of sleeping. I woke up every hour or so, looked at the clock and thought "Wow. I've got some more time to sleep." Then I would go back to sleep - if that's what you call it- wake up again an hour later and think "Wow. I really don't have that much more time to sleep. Sleep dammit! Do it!" Then I had horrible dreams. It was the one where I hear someone is knocking on the door and it is so damn real that I can't tell if I'm dreaming or it is really happening and my mind is just trying to secretly work it into the dream. Deep down I know that the person knocking on the door is a baaad person. I know this is going to be grizzly. Sure enough, he comes barreling through the door (in my dream my boyfriend opens the door without a crazy weapon that you pick up on the way to the door. Which we all know any of us would grab a bat, knife or go all Joan Crawford and grab a wire hanger to ignite fear in the unwelcome visitor). Needless to say, the boogieman bursts through the door with a gun and holds us both hostage for days. We try to escape at one point, only to be caught. When we are caught, we both know the consequences will be astronomical. True. I am forced to have a long crochet needle poked through my gums. ???WTF??? Where does my subconscious come up with such evil things? Plus a crochet needle would never make it through your gums. Duh. The second part of punishment for trying to escape is that we are demanded to eat a sandwich that we had to make with peanut butter and those pixie sticks - you know the ones with the sugar stuff down in the stick? Thinking about it now, that kind of sandwich doesn't really sound all that bad. But at the time I was balling, thinking "How am I going to eat this horrid poison?" Around about that time, I woke up. Whew. Just think. I might not have ever escaped and would have been forced to eat candy and learn to crochet with my own torture device. Yuck.
Anyway, the point I am trying to get to is that I am unbelievably tired. I'm on my second cup of coffee and pondering having yet another bagel. Food will give me strength. Bagels are the breakfast of champions. Poo. I'm going out to my car to take a nap.

Now Showing: "The Excitement"

In anticipation for a special guest, I picture the Grove Park in employees breaking out into a spectacular musical with small groups of workers dancing a choreographed dance, snapping, over exaggerated facial expressions... all dressed alike...and the song going a little something like this:

(In a whisper with a low bass back beat) The President is coming...the President is coming...(fingersnap, fingersnap). Maybe looking something like this:

Wouldn't that be exciting! WOW.

ModCloth

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Stumbled upon a beautiful website full of vintage fashion and unbelievable cool things! Ahh! I have applied to be an affiliate. Hopefully it goes through. Definitely check them out. Most exciting website for fashion, I think. "Be the Buyer" is rockin. See ya soon Modcloth!

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Sunday

The 3rd birthday party for Riley bug went off without a hitch. Lots of fun...lots of cupcakes, punch, and presents. No cupcakes left so I didn't get to stuff my face with any. Darn. Well, there was one yellow cupcake with white icing left...pass! Not chocolate, not mine. So now I am left to sort through some new toys and get rid of some old stuff in the apartment so we have room. I still haven't given him my gift. He has been asking for a kite so I grab the little guy one. And that kid at the park didn't even know I took it! :)

Get your party on

Riley's 3rd birthday party is this Sunday. I am already exhausted just thinking about it. I need to fix 24 cupcakes. Riley wants to help put icing on them and then sprinkles. Don't forget the sprinkles mommy! Should be pretty fun. He loves to bake and I like being able to share that with him. He loves making his own eggs. Cracking the egg, stirring it with a fork, adding some shredded cheese and then I help him pour it in the pan. He makes great eggs!
Its those moments right before the party that gets a little wild. Getting everything set up, taped up, wrapped up. Set the punch out. I didn't do cake so that I wouldn't have to deal with forks and cutting cake. This way, everyone grabs a cupcake and enjoys. Might make some cookies too. Add more work to my list. Why not?
Well, he's excited. I'm excited. He keeps on asking me if his party is in 2 more minutes. No...2 more days. :)

Walker Texas Roadhouse, TR for short

Damn Texas Roadhouse. When I'm leaving work they are just getting their grills started for dinner. I'm walking out to my car, salivating over the smell of bbq ribs, steaks, chicken and lord knows what else they are slathering the sauce on down there. Baked potatoes....MAN! Not fair. Not fair. I get into my car knowing full well that what I will be eating shortly will consist of something wrapped in plastic that I have to nuke for 3 minutes or a cold bowl of crunchy cereal that I can't leave sitting for longer than 1 minute because it could fall victim to soggy monster. But, as soon as I get on the road and that smell leaves my nostrils I am onto other things...forgetting about that mouth watering, mind-altering state of starvation I was in a few seconds earlier.