So Soorry I'll Be Oot and Aboot This Week...

...And oddly enough I have this overwhelming craving for maple syrup.


Weird.

Auto Desecration

Driving home from work yesterday I took an alternate route to stop at Petsmart. I was sitting at a light downtown right next to some car dealership when in the corner of my eye I see something running toward me.


I look to my right, outside the passenger side window, and see this big smiling face and hands motioning me to roll down my window.


Scared the shit out of me.


After the initial shock wore off, I rolled down the passenger side window just a little bit to hear what the guy had to say. He was young, clean cut and nicely dressed so I assumed he worked at the car dealership across the street.


"Hi! I would LOVE to buy your car!" He said enthusiastically.


*blink blink*


I just sat there and looked at him for a couple seconds and said,


"Ok....?"


"How long have you had it?" He asked.


"About three years." I replied


"Yep, it's probably time for you to upgrade." He said this as he looked my car up and down like he was checking out a chick. He was undressing my car with his eyes!I'm surprised he didn't start humping it right then and there.


My car felt violated.


I notice the cars in front of me started moving and I realize the light had turned green. That didn't matter to this guy, he still stood there hanging over my window.


"What's your name?"


"Grand Pooba" I said quickly as I slowly started inching my car forward noticing the long line of cars stuck behind me.


He didn't budge.


"Nice to meet you Grand Pooba, my name is Rick, here's my card, give me a call!" And with that he reached in the window to hand me his card while the car was still inching forward.


He about lost his arm after I grabbed the card and took off!


I looked in my rear view mirror and saw that he was now stuck. This dude was in the middle of the road with cars whizzing by on both sides of him. I turned the corner so I'll never know if he made it back to the safety of his precious car dealership.


For all I know, some impatient driver decided to teach him a lesson and introduced him to the pavement.


Sheesh. I didn't realize the economy was that bad.


My car hasn't been the same since.





Poor baby.

We Had A Deal!

I pulled a George.

I'm not going to say that I hit a bird with my car because it was more like the bird hit me. There I am driving and all the sudden a bird hits my windshield!


Seriously. The bird was sitting in the middle of the road, outside the range of my car, and decided to fly right into me as I drove by.

"We had a deal!"

I feel so bad but there wasn't anything I could do. He broke his side of the deal!


Poor little guy. Should I have stopped to see if the bird was knocked out or laying in the road unable to fly? Well I didn't, I just kept driving. Does that make me a bad person?

Wait, don't answer that. I must have been in shock.

I can only conclude that the bird had just lost his job, lost his girlfriend, watched his nest burn to the ground, and found out that he only had 30 days to live.

He was obviously suicidal.

I sure hope PETA isn't reading this. Please forgive me.

LUBE

Me: "That's weird, you've got a hair growing right on your ear lube!"


Hubster: "On my what?"


Me: "Right there on your ear lube."


Hubster: "Really?"


Me: "Yeah, look."


Hubster: "Really Poob?"


Me: "I'm serious!"


Hubster: "Ok, you're right, I have hair on my ear LUBE. I have two ear LUBES. We all have two ear LUBES. My ear LUBE has a hair on it. "


Me: " I know, that's what I'm sayin!"


Hubster: "It's LOBE Poob, ear LOBE!"


Me: "Oh."

What the What?

At my place of employment, I have this one particular coworker who just isn't "all there".


And everyone knows it.


You know who I'm talking about, there's one in every office.






Don't get me wrong, he does his job, but he creates most of the work he does himself because he's so old fashioned. For the purposes of this post, we will call him Mr. Barfboogerface.


Mr. Barfboogerface says the most random things to you out of the blue and everyone in the office just humors him.


It. Is. Hilarious.


So I've decided to keep an account of the things he says because well, who says stuff like that?


A little background on him first, he is in his early 50's, is overweight, is bald & freckled, has never been married, has never had kids, lives alone, and his life is his work.


He has back problems and other health issues of which he is determined to let everyone in the office know about. Not only know about, but know every detail of his medical history.


The only interaction he has with other human beings is at work, which is why he always stays at work late. There's no point in him going home, he has nothing to go home to. I know it's sad but he lives in his own reality he makes for himself, I don't ever see this changing.


His office is full of papers. No, I don't think you understand, I mean papers all over his desk, his shelves, piles and piles on the floor, people can't even walk into his office it's that bad!

(Not his real office but pretty close to it!)

And of course they recently moved his office right next to mine so guess who gets to be the recipient of any new health issues and/or big problems with important things like paper towels?


You guessed it. Me.


This here is a conversation, though mostly one sided, between Mr. Barfboogerface and another coworker of mine in the break room. The normal coworker, we'll call him Dave, was warming up his lunch in the microwave when Mr. Barfboogerface walks in.


Mr. B: "Hi, what's going on?"


Dave: "Just warming up my lunch." In his mind he's thinking, oh crap, my food has 4 more minutes! I'm stuck with him for 4 whole minutes!


Mr. B: "Oh. I just need to get some paper towels."


The paper towel roll was empty so Mr. Barfboogerface gets another roll out of the cupboard and while he is replacing it he says,


Mr. B: "You know, I blow my nose with these."


Awkward pause.


Mr. B: "Well, not these ones here at work of course, but when I'm at home."


Dave: Nods his head trying not to laugh.


Mr. B: "Now these paper towels only have the big sheets but I like the ones that are smaller so you can pick your size. Those are the ones I use."


Dave: Blank stare.


Mr. B: "Ya know, I always run out of these at home. I usually buy two at a time but since I use them so often, I just bought a 10 pack and put two inside my house and the rest in the garage." He is speaking very matter-of-factly as if this is important and valuable information.


Dave: Blank stare.


Mr. B: "But my garage isn’t attached to my house and I hate going out there so when I run out of paper towels I never want to go get more. And then when I get home from work and park in the garage, I never remember to bring some more up! " Sighs.

Dave: Blinks.


Mr. B: "Finally I found some extra space in my pantry where I can store them all so I don’t have that problem anymore."


Pause.


Mr. B: "I should probably stop using these to blow my nose."


And with that, he walked out of the break room.





Dave said nothing this whole time but was pretty excited to come and recite his whole "conversation" with Mr. Barfboogerface to me.



My response?


"What the what?"

Observations From A Candy Dish

Is anyone else in love with these?

I'm truly amazed that I am not grossed out by the fact that eating one of these simulates eating a raw egg.



Check out the insides, there's yellow yolk and everything.







I mean, that's a future baby chick folks. You're eating a future baby chick! How does that not gross people out?



I don't know why but I love them, especially when the insides are extra runny. The more it resembles a real egg, the better. Why is that NOT disturbing to me?



Oh, and don't get me started on these:







These are TO. DIE. FOR.



I like to keep a little candy dish on top of my desk at work. I try to change my candy bowl to match each season of the year so right now, being the season of Easter Bunnies & eggs, I have a darling pink Easter basket full of pastel colored candy.







And as a bonus I have to have a small bowl of the mini cadburry eggs on my desk at all times.







This is the only way I can get people to come visit me. You see, I like to pretend I'm popular, but really everyone knows the only reason I get visitors is because of my candy dish. It's actually pretty funny how people feel like they need an excuse to come into my office when their sole purpose is to satisfy their nagging sweet tooth.



"Um hey, so, uh...doooo you know where Matt is?" A coworker stammers, making the words up on the spot.



"Why no, I don't know where Matt is but hey! While you're here, why don't you have some candy?" I reply, not taking my eyes off of my computer screen.



"Well, since you asked..." He grins as he partakes.



Dude, why would I know where Matt is? Wait, who the hell is Matt? Does a Matt even work here?



And then there's the people that come and steal handfuls of candy at a time and say the same joke every time they do so.



"You are in so much trouble. Darnit, you're doin it again, you're just trying to make us all fat!" A coworker says while filling his pockets with chocolate.



"Ha ha ha. Yep, you got me. That's my evil plan." I reply. For the hundredth time.



And then there's the big boss dude. You know, the boss of your bosses boss? He comes to browse through my selection but never takes anything. For the life of me I can't figure out what kind of candy this man likes! My ultimate goal is to please him.



Seriously, every time I buy candy I stand in the grocery isle staring at the array of bright colored bags of sugar thinking...hmmmm...what would big boss dude like?



I have yet to figure this out and every time I ask him what he would prefer, all he says is "Oh I like anything!"



No. Obviously you don't, because you never take anything. Come on big boss dude, I feel like a failure here!



Oh, and if I am absent for a day from work?



Forget about it.



The candy is gone when I come back the next day. It's amazing how fast the candy can go when there's nobody in the office to notice that you've already taken 10 handfuls.



It just makes me laugh. I really don't care how much candy you take, that's what the candy is there for! Oh people, they always feel like they need to justify themselves.



And then there's me.



I make absolutely sure that nobody is anywhere near the proximity of my office before I snag a piece of candy FROM MY OWN STASH.

I Was Going to Title This Post "ALOHA", But I Know Some of You Don't Speak Hawaiian. So I Didn't.

We have now safely returned from Hawaii. I wish I could say the same for one certain piece of luggage but that's a whole other story.


Holy Jeebus I don't even know where to start. The Hawaii trip was a Christmas gift from Alex's parents, the whole family went and stayed for a week on Maui. We stayed at a gorgeous house in Lahaina, here are a few photos of the place we stayed.






The view from the house:



This was a trip full of surprises. My mom-in-law surprised us by getting everyone first class tickets for the flight! Not only that but she also gave us all Bose headsets to watch movies and listen to our ipods with. (And I was in desperate need of a new headset, score!)


Now I know why they say "first class is the only way to fly." You don't have to wait in that awful long line to get through security and you get to board the plane first. When you sit down the first thing they do is give you a Mai Tai, and then another, and another. I asked Al if they paid the flight attendants who worked in first class extra because they all were just so happy to help you.


Weird.


I totally soaked it up because I knew it would be the one and only time I would fly first class. I kind of felt like Jack in Titanic, you know trying to fit in with Rose and all the elite? Only I didn't spit off the side of the boat. Because we weren't on a boat. And well, I don't know how to hock a loogie.


Ok got a little side tracked there, where was I?


Oh yeah, Hawaii. It rocks. I want to live there. Forever.


And Ever.


Cris surprised us again by getting us all lei'd when we stepped off the airplane at 4 in the morning.





You'd think it'd be awkward all getting leid at the same time but it was so late we were all okay with it. (Hey, I know the whole "getting leid" joke has been done many times before but I still think it's funny, and that's all that counts. Sorta. Ok I suck I should have just left it alone but now I've gone on too long and totally ruined the whole joke. Good God will someone just shut me up?)


While at the house, the majority of our time was spent throwing children.





When not throwing children, we were at the beach. On our first day at the beach we were all minding our own business, the kids playing in the water, the girls wading on the shore, and the guys snorkeling in the ocean.






(For the record, Cris was NOT picking her nose. At least that's what she tells me.)


Like I said, minding our own business.


At the time I was laying on my towel reading a book, you know, minding my own business.


So we were all minding our own business, nobody's business but our own, when I see in the corner of my eye some strange old man walking my direction.


In my head I'm thinking, "Please keep walking, please keep walking, please keep walking" but guess what he did?


He kept walking.


No, he didn't keep walking, why would I bring him up if he just walked by? He stopped right next to my towel and said, "Excuse me?"


Annoyed, I look up and see him holding out some coral in one hand and a rolled cigarette in the other. (Identical to some illegal substance that one might roll up and smoke, or cook into brownies. Or so I hear.) He started blabbing to me about how the coral was clean and dry and was already dead so I couldn't get into trouble for taking it home.


He hands it to me and I'm not sure what to do. I didn't want to hurt his feelings so I walk over and show the kids the coral, pretending to be fascinated by it, and then I hand it back to Crazy Weed Dude.


He tells me to keep it, I'm like, okay thanks, and I put it on a towel by our stuff.



I expected Crazy Weed Dude to walk away but he doesn't. He approaches me and Rachael mumbling something totally incoherent so we just brush him off and he leaves.


Finally, he's gone!


Oh but he wasn't gone. He walked into the ocean to swim for a bit but stayed near by.



After his little dip in the ocean, he comes back and approaches Rachael again, this time she understands what he says. He asks her if he can use the kids' bucket and she politely says no, the kids are using it. He then explains that the reason he gave us the coral was in exchange for him to use our bucket.


What? Crazy Weed Dude just won't quit and we start thinking that maybe he's trying to distract us while his accomplice steals all of our stuff from the beach. So just to be safe, I walk back to my towel and grab my bag, when I turn back around I see this:



Somehow Crazy Weed Dude managed to get the coveted bucket. We all watched while he taught the kids how to use the sand and water to drip onto the sand castle and make strange looking peaks.



And of course we all stayed close and watched him (and our stuff) like a hawk while he interacted with the kids. We were all just humoring the guy because he clearly wasn't "all there".


About that time we decided to pack up, leaving the crazy son of a bitch by himself.


I left the coral behind, lying on the beach, and I'm sure he used it on some other poor family to get into their bucket too.


When we weren't being accosted on the beach, we were kickin back with Buddha.


(Sorry bad phone pictures)



When we weren't with Buddha, we were getting lei'd (yes, again) at the Luau.





This is Albert's usual face after getting lei'd:



And yes, I am really that white and Alex is really that tan. I hate him.




And while the dancers were doing this:



Ava was doing this:





She is quite the dancer (and no she did not learn this from me, I only teach pole dancing, not Hula Striptease). When Rachael asks Ava if she wants to do dance or gymnastics, Ava says she wants to do "fighting" instead.


Yes, fighting.


And with two older brothers, she has plenty of fighting experience! But she is also such a girly girl. She wanted her toe nails painted almost every day. She'd bring me my nail polish bag and tell me that she needed her toe nails painted again. Of course I was happy to oblige.

(These two pics courtesy of Cris)


I love this girl.




If you're actually still reading this I will now put you out of your misery. Stay tuned for more Hawaii including magic tricks on a boat, sharks, sea turtles & a 5 foot 10 inch praying mantis!


And best of all, Albert's awesome fishy face.


You DO NOT wanna miss that. Promise.

Why Today Is Going To Be A Good Day

Because I found a zit on my elbow.

Yep, right there on the outer portion of the arm hinge, the olecranon to be exact. Not on my triceps, not on my forearm, but directly smack dab in the middle of my elbow amidst that wrinkly pliable skin.

I have Elbow Acne.

I immediately went to demolish the sucker in the bathroom. Though a little challenging using one hand, I was able to contort my body into the optimal pinching position and I executed the problem at hand, and at elbow.

I never turn down a challenge.

Nothin better then that feeling of accomplishment you get after pinching such a ripe zit. In fact I've been so high on triumph that I didn't even notice the SNOW falling outside my window.

And you know what? I don't care, I got to pop a zit today. And not just any zit, an ELBOW ZIT. One can only hope and pray that this elbow acne continues.

Yes, today is going to be a great day.


(My apologies for creating a whole post dedicated to an elbow zit, but if you know me well, then you know how exciting this day really is for me. My apologies go out to all the normal people out there.)


(I'd also like to apologize to my elbow for such tactless exploitation.)

Will Work For Beer

I had another encounter last week which further demonstrates my susceptibility to suckerism. It actually occurred on my way in to Red Robin to have dinner last week.


As I drive into the parking lot I notice a gentleman talking to a couple who are standing about 10 feet from the entrance to the restaurant. I find a parking spot, grab my purse, and walk toward the front door.


The couple has left at this point and as I walk closer to the entrance the gentleman approaches me.


"Excuse me Miss? Can I ask you something?" He asks me. I notice a hint of an accent.


He's standing beside a car with a woman sitting in the passenger seat so I assume he is going to ask me for directions. I haven't lived in Layton for ten years but I decide to try to help him. Besides, he looks like Sacha Baron Cohen, this could get interesting right?



"Sure" I replied.

"My wife and I" he says gesturing to the woman in the car "Are trying to reach this town called St. George and that guy just told us it is about 350 miles that way" He points south.


As he's talking I glance over at the woman in the car and notice her hair is a tangled frizzy mess and I get distracted thinking that she really needs to use some Silk Therapy to fix that, and hasn't she ever heard of a brush?


"We only have a quarter tank of gas left in our car so there is no way we will be able to make it there tonight"


Oh, he's still talking.


"And in Salt Lake City you know there is a Temple Square there with Bishops and stuff and they have a Welfare Square where they let you have a place to stay for the night for nothing."


Now I'm just staring at him wondering what he is trying to get at, does he want a ride? A place to stay? Money?


"Well we called them at 523-4598 (Not the real number but he did quote the number he supposedly called) and they closed at 5:00 and don't let anybody in after Five. So then we called the bishop at 546-9847 (Again, not the real number, but he did quote a phone number) but all the bishops leave work at 5:00 too."


What the hell? Yes because all the bishops work at Temple Square every day. (For anyone who doesn't live in Utah, this guy obviously doesn't know what he's talking about. Bishops don't work anywhere.) By now I am just humoring the guy wondering what he's going to come up with next.


"So there are no bishops to give us a place to stay for the night and we really need to get to St. George." He again gestures to his frizzy haired wife in the car. "But we only have a quarter tank of gas."


Okay, now this guy seriously needs to hurry up. Get to the point!


"And St. George is too far away to make it on a quarter tank of gas. And we don't have anywhere to stay for the night. And we can't talk to a bishop in Salt Lake so I was wondering if you could help us out.?


Blink. Blink. I'm at a loss for words. I stare at him for a few seconds longer expecting him to keep going but apparently he is done with his speech.


"So are you trying to ask me for money?" I finally ask.


He looks at the ground, puts his hands in his pockets and mumbles something I can't understand. He takes a step back and instead of looking at me in the eye, he looks left and says,


"Uh, yeah if you have any to spare .... mumble ... St. George ... mumble ... welfare ... mumble ..."


Now I'm just wanting this guy to shut up so as he's mumbling I reach into my purse and pull out a couple bucks and hand it over to the guy knowing full well that he's a lying sack of dog shit. But after sitting there and listening to him blabber on and on I just felt a little stupid if I just said no.


Seriously, why can't I just say no to these people? I thought of this incident as just another funny story but my husband is very worried about my inability to say no and thinks it is very dangerous to even let these people talk to me.


At the moment I didn't feel like I was in any danger but I guess anything is possible right? He could have just been luring me over and when he had me close enough could have pushed me into his car and drove away.


Of course I don't think of those things at all, I just see a poor guy who needs help. I seriously don't worry about that stuff, I feel like I can take care of myself in those situations but can I really?



And what about the bums (Or Little People) that ask me for change every day as I walk to lunch down town? Are they dangerous?


Where do you draw the line?