Category Archives: Entertainment

Guess who’s back

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A group of my co-workers goes walking every day at lunch and today I joined them. As we walked past some bushes, someone wondered aloud about the source of the clicking noise. With investigative skills worthy of Nancy Drew, I peeped under the bush.

Originally, all I saw was something alive and something gray. Because there are a plethora of bunnies in the area, I didn’t initially register anything beyond “gray animal” and skipped directly to the thought, “I didn’t know rabbits made that noise.”

That’s because they do not.

Then I noticed the eyes. The gigantic, yellow eyes. At this point, I would say I was about 95% startled, 4% afraid, and 1% excited. Given the small ratio of excitement to those other common sense emotions, happily yelling “It’s STANLEY!” might not have been the ideal first reaction. But that’s what I did.

(Back story: Stanley is the name we gave to the owl who hung out in the tree outside our cubicle window last summer. No owls have been seen in the area since, and there has been lingering sadness about the owl departure as they provided a great deal of workplace entertainment.)

Even though it was not a cognizant decision, I am happy to report that after my successful detective work, there was at least a small part of me that was smart enough to remove myself from the immediate vicinity of the bird of prey making warning noises.

But despite my desire to leave well enough alone, there appeared to be a Stanley 2 watching over this scene who did not seem to trust my intentions to exit. I was perhaps three steps away from the grounded owl when there was suddenly an owl with an overwhelmingly large wingspan swooping directly in front of my face. I sincerely have no idea where he came from, but I’m guessing he was watching from the building roof and decided to come personally administer a warning.

And this point I moved to 100% terror, which was evidenced by a very unfortunate shriek and the subconscious, split-second decision to use my co-worker as a human shield. I ducked behind him and waited for all predators to depart from the area, promising myself that my days of yelling at local wildlife were officially over. After all this excitement, I decided that I had had enough of nature for the day, cut my walk short, and returned to my cubicle to recount of my adventures from the safety of my computer.

reading far too in to things

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The cover of Get Smart claims that bonus scenes deliver 62% more “laughs.” I question this assertion. A few things to ponder:

1. Why is “laughs” in quotes? If you’re going to promise me 62% more laughs, I want to know that you mean actual laughter, not 62% more “Oh I see what you did there. Heh, that’s cute – nicely done. Maybe if I chuckle you’ll stop now…”

2. How did you calculate the 62%? That’s a very specific number – how are you presenting the statistic? What was your experimental methodology? Did you employ true simple random sampling? How large was your sample size and what does your distribution look like? What were your control variables? Is this number supposed to be the mean? If so, what is your standard of deviation? I do not trust your statistical methodology until you can satisfactorily answer these questions.

3. 62% more than what? It’s very easy to promise 62% more laughs than Larry King. What’s your frame of reference? I assume you are talking about the original movie. If so, why weren’t your “hilarious alternative jokes” actually included? I am of the opinion that if they were truly that great, they should have made the first cut.

As such, I conclude that I need to get a job. Also, I think that 62% is a made up number.

Friday Haiku

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For your reading pleasure, a few short poems about my encounters with random people in the city.

The hippie on the train
Birkenstocks and socks,
Short shorts expose pale white thighs,
Frizzy ponytail.

Woman in a power suit at Starbucks who refuses to take off her sunglasses despite being indoors
“Double shot latte.”
(Obviously self-absorbed)
“Skim milk only please.”

The homeless people on the free downtown bus talking about how a meth trip made them horny
Crap! When’s the next stop?
I need to get off this bus!
Don’t make eye contact…

The guy who works at the sandwich shop
Confident swagger.
You seem nice enough. But, dude!
Please don’t call me “hun.”

To the teenagers “making a statement”
If you purchased it
from Hot Topic at the mall:
it’s not rebellion.

where have you gone, joe dimaggio?

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I was listening to Simon and Garfunkel on the way home from work last night. When Mrs. Robinson came on, one of my old childhood questions came flooding back. Namely, if you want to hide something in a hiding place where no one ever goes, why on earth would you put it near the cupcakes? In my mind, involving cupcakes has never helped keep a secret. Wouldn’t you expect everyone to go to where the cupcakes are? I know you can at least expect me to be there; however, you can also be sure that I would try to keep the location of the cupcakes quiet in hopes of not having to share. Really, my logic says that at least one person is bound to find your hiding place in search of a good dessert. What am I missing?

Hey now kids, come gather round – See what just skipped into town.

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This morning, I went to an office team meeting. We had a relatively quick conference call followed by a lengthy discussion as to how to improve the Denver office. Things like integration and culture were discussed, all of which seemed like good plans. That is, until it was decided that we should work on the team building that morning by having the “new hires” share something about themselves that no one else knew about them. I panicked. In my heart of hearts, I knew that I would still be considered a new hire. I considered running for the door while I still had a shot. While I was formulating my exit strategy, the director called my name as someone who was so graciously granted time on the agenda. I was too late.

The first person told an amazing story about being an artist. I mean, she literally included a philosophical discussion about being connected to her work and had this amazing talent to share with the group and spoke about how she worked on the side. I sat, trying to listen and seem engaged but mostly having a semi-heart attack while hoping against hope that they moved around the room clockwise instead of counterclockwise.

I prayed that I would develop a cool hobby in those 45 seconds. How awesome would it be to say, “You probably weren’t aware of this, but I am a world champion bobsledder on the weekends”? Surprisingly, no new talents emerged. What could I possibly share about myself that would be something I want people in the office to know about me? All I could think of were inane facts that no one would want to know and I DEFINITELY didn’t want to share.

“I can sing the jingles of numerous childhood commercials at the drop of a hat. Skip-It, Yo-Yo Ball, Fruit Stripe Gum, KFC’s All-You-Can-Eat Buffet, Jenny Craig, Blow Pops…what do you want to hear?”
“My favorite kind of M&Ms are Peanut M&Ms. I love almonds regularly, but strangely enough the Almond M&Ms just don’t do it for me.”
“I made it all the way to Sid’s house when playing Toy Story on Sega, back before the days of memory cards and extra lives. I do best at SuperSmash Brothers when I’m Kirby. And I beat Guitar Hero II on medium.”
“On average, I press the snooze button at least 3 times before I get up. Sometimes more. And by ‘sometimes’ I mean ‘usually’ because I used the word ‘average’ incorrectly in the first sentence.”

Seriously, I had nothing.

They went counterclockwise.

I was up. I froze – I turned red and I had nothing to say. Finally, I blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “My life’s ambition is to bench press my body weight.” Everyone gasped and laughed and said “Really? You can’t be serious.” I was. Kind of. And if I only weighed 40 pounds, I’d already be there.

I left the meeting vowing to get some new hobbies.

the triumphant return of Stairwell Monitor #2

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My place on the corporate totem pole has apparently not progressed much since last fall, despite having hired 6 new people to the Denver office after my start date. Last time we had a fire drill, all the newest employees were thoughtfully volunteered to assist on the emergency response team. I was convinced that at least some of these new people would be recruited in a similar manner. I wasn’t so ambitious as to think I’d be done with my Stairwell Monitor Tour of Duty, but I my mind, I was already promoted to Stairwell Monitor #1. You might be scoffing, but this one is a BIG DEAL.

Because Stairwell Monitor #1 doesn’t have to guide people down 27 flights of stairs; their job is to assist the disabled. But in a fire drill, that just means hanging out in the break room after everyone else has journeyed out to the streets below, watching CNN with the sound on. Man, I was ready for that gig. Unfortunately, our office management had different plans. Instead, everyone has the same role as last time. Which is a shame, because I would have been SO GOOD at being Stairwell Monitor #1.

I guess if you’re trying to look at the bright side, this time I was at least invited to the fire warden meeting. Last time I was just told what to do for the drill, but today I got to go to the building-wide planning meeting. It served a much-needed college flashback, sitting in the back of a big room listening to someone passionately lecture about something of minimal concern to me. (Also, fire wardens bring cookies to their meetings.) Another sign of my pretend increased responsibility is my awesome FIRE WARDEN hat! And yes, I do have some stellar pictures of my red, flat-brimmed baseball cap. And no, I’m not posting.

I hesitate to publicly confess my inadequacy as a concerned citizen of the workplace, but last time I was a less than ideal Stairwell Monitor #2. Primarily this was because I was so concerned about changing into comfortable shoes for the 27 floor hike that most of the office had already evacuated before I got to my station. Maybe if I have a better showing this time around, I’ll make my way up that corporate ladder after all…

why is that?

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Have you ever noticed that people who like Radiohead are the people who are convinced that their musical tastes are superior to everyone elses? I don’t have anything against the band; I’ve listened to some of their stuff and it’s good. And I think their online release of In Rainbows was awesome – I always like when experimenting beats tradition. But overall, I wouldn’t consider myself a fan (at least not in the way that all the ‘real fans’ consider themselves fans).

I guess it’s just that sometimes I get a little annoyed by the people who act as though they are so above Clearchannel that they must constantly prove it by discussing the merits of Kid A vs. OK Computer.

Fiscal Year Resolutions

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Most people fall off the bandwagon when it comes to New Year’s Resolutions.  Usually, it’s caused by people setting completely unrealistic or unattainable goals.  But when it comes to the omnipresent “I’m going to lose weight,” I think it’s fair to say that timing is also a very big issue.  People become motivated to shed the pounds on January 1st, yet they are almost always back to their bonbon ways by Valentine’s Day.  Why?  Because it’s freaking cold in January.  Natural exercise, things like running, long walks, bike rides…those aren’t very fun on ice.  But for pete’s sake, it’s time to turn over that new leaf because it’s JANUARY FIRST and all I did from Thanksgiving to Christmas was eat, and clearly this is the time to turn leaves, even if it is snowing.  So they go to the gym.  And they go in hoards, all of them at once trying to figure out what button to push to make the Elliptical go.  They are motivated.  But… they know that all the gym “regulars” are irritated by the influx, they know they don’t belong, they are intimidated by the big men doing free-weights, and let’s be honest – treadmills really just suck, but they especially suck when you have to wait in line to use one.  So they stop going almost as quickly as they start.  Now they are out of shape, out of money for the membership, and they’ve added on that wonderful emotional guilt that comes with failure to once again stick to the goal.

So what I’m thinking:  why not make exercise goals a fiscal year kind of thing?  May would be an ideal start time for me…warm but not hot, the perfect time to be outside.  I understand that there are people out there who may want to get a quicker start than that though; I also understand the power of using external events are motivators.  And thus I propose:  the Chinese New Year resolution.  It might not be all that warm still, but at least that way all the January 1 saps will have cleared out of the gym before you start.  Then, you won’t feel like the awkward bandwagon member at the gym and you can go without feeling like people are rolling their eyes at you.  Really, it’s the logical choice.  So let’s all commit to getting in killer shape for the Year of the Rat.

baby, you can drive my car

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You might be expecting some kind of happy and reflective Christmas post. Except you’re reading my blog, which means you probably know better. You, oh astute reader, are aware that there is no day of my year exempt from ridiculous situations and random stories.

Colorado most certainly had a white Christmas this year, which was quite beautiful. That is until I had to make an hour drive up to my boyfriend’s parent’s house for dinner. I’m not really too big of a wuss about driving in the snow, but I really wasn’t in the mood to put in so much effort for food. (I mean, next you’ll be expecting me to help cook it and everything…) I realized that that was probably not the best reason for blowing off a dinner (plus his mom makes pie!) and so I ventured out into the cold afternoon. And then I ventured back. I forgot my car’s gas light has been on for 4 days now. Oops. Somehow pumping gas in a snowstorm seemed utterly unpleasant, unpleasant enough for me to REQUEST to take the family’s minivan instead. Oh, the joys of living at home. I bet you wish you had minivans at your fingertips, waiting for your beck and call…

The roads were fairly slick and the snow was falling pretty heavily. The drive started out with me forgetting that I forgot how to get there until I got to the point that I had to pick my path. I, of course, picked wrong. Then, as I was driving down the wrong highway through a winter storm, the passenger-side windshield wiper of the car FALLS OFF. Luckily it gets snagged by the still attached and now worthless piece of wiper and I can assure you that I uttered some phrases that might not have made baby Jesus feel very welcome on his birthday. I made it to the next exit and proceed to call my mom to see what it is I need to do to reattach detached pieces of car. (And if any of you so much as start the “driving with a cell phone” lecture now, how about you go drive someone else’s car and have a vital and completely-necessary-for-the-moment-at-hand piece of said vehicle FALL OFF while you’re driving? Then you can talk. I might still whack you with a wiper blade, but you don’t even get to talk until that point.) Anyways, turns out the exit ramp was uber-slick and the car felt that skidding back towards the highway would be fun way to make my heart stop. (Again, I’m really sorry about the language, buddy. Happy birthday.) I finally got myself pulled over and spent the next ten minutes decrusting ice and reattaching car parts.

By the time I got back on the road, I had had about enough of this whole white Christmas nonsense and thought that I might just drive my car into a snow bank when Let It Snow came on the radio. It was time to turn off the Christmas cheer and find some real music. Luckily, the family minivan has good taste in music and a Beatles CD was already in place for me. It’s hard for anyone to stay mad when they listen to Hey Jude. (Maybe Mark Chapman…)

I spent the rest of the drive happily listening and playing with acronyms. Every time I lost traction when I braked today a fun little light in on the dashboard lit up. Since my car apparently does not have the same “TCS” excitement as the minivan, I was a little puzzled by the acronym and spent a fair amount of time throwing ideas for meaning around. Some of my personal favorites:

TCS: Traction Coming Soon
TCS: To Cure Skidding
TCS: Take Caution! Slow!
TCS: Time to Curse Silently

Apparently TCS actually means Traction Control System according to Google, but I kind of like all my definitions better…

If you weren’t have a good day already, hopefully the mayham that is my life helped bring just a little cheer. Happy holidays!

(Side note: Happily, I made it to my destination without any other major disasters and it turned out to be a very fun afternoon that proved worthy of the drive.)