Monkey See Monkey Do Monkey

My university did not have a mascot. Yes, we were the Wolverines, but we did not have anyone dressing like a wolverine, fan or otherwise. It's because we had class (I'm not making that up. That was the reason given by the university). There were no cows or oranges or big-headed leprechauns on our field. No-sir-ee. Mascot-less equals class-full.

However, I have found one exception.

When I came in to work on Sunday, I found, pinned to the bulletin board, The Amazing Live Sea-Monkeys (a kit, not an actual sea monkey. That'd be a bit morbid, don't you think?). "World's only instant pets!", it boasts. My boss had decided we needed a mascot. So I set about setting them up.

Man, sea monkeys are high maintenance! At least the set up is. I had to do this and let it sit for 24 hours. Then I had to do this for five days. In 3 and a half weeks, something happens (I think they mate?). I've never had sea monkeys (a neighbor friend did growing up, but really I think he just had the aquarium and his parents told him there were sea monkeys in it). They come in a little pouch and then - poof! - there they are. They really are insta. It's like magic. And I can purchase things like lamps and vitamins and CUPID POWDER! And the best thing about my sea monkeys in particular is they came with a Wrist Aquarium, so I can suck one up in the little sucker thing they gave me and take some home (but only for 72 hours).

One is the Lonliest Number

In college, my roommates and I would play this fun game with a Herbert Hoover action figure (that's right). He would somehow move around the apartment. When not residing on top of the curtain rod looking out the window, we would find him in a kitchen drawer or hanging out in the shower. One of his favorite places to play was inside the freezer (unlike Punky Brewster who did NOT like it when she was in the freezer-refrigerator). Someone would open the door and he'd be chillin' in the back on a Bucket O' Margarita.

I can't play these games by myself. I'd always be disappointed when Herbert or whoever was where I left him.

What's the Matter With These Sizzors?

The other day, I found, in my apartment, a pair of sissors I can not identify. I used them to cut something and then I stopped - where did these come from? I own two pairs of sissors, not three. And I couldn't even place them somewhere else - had I mistakenly stolen them from work or my parents' when I visited over the holidays? But I didn't unpack them with my other stuff. Did someone bring sissors to my house and then forget to take them home? Was someone in my home while I was away doing something with sissors and then forgot to take them with them (my brother once acquired some tools a thief left behind after breaking into his car and stealing his radio)? It's kinda creepy.

I just keep picturing myself sleep walking off somewhere, stabbing someone with their sissors, cleaning them off and then bringing them home.

Ch-ch-ch-changes

It was several months ago, of course, but today I was thinking about Halloween. This past Halloween, my sister, who is in 5th grade, went as a "gangsta rapper" (her words). She wore big baggy pants and lots of bling.

When I was in fourth grade, I also went as a musician. Only I was a punk rocker. I wore a pink spiky wig, bright blue leggings (leggings!), a pink mini-skirt and some sort of 80's-esque top (perhaps even off-the-shoulder).

It's interesting to see how, at about the same age, my sister and I chose essentially the same costume for Halloween. Except, because it is 17 years later, the current identifiable musicians differ. I suppose there was also a time when people may have dressed as a generic British invader. It would have been interesting if she had dressed as a punk rocker because I bet very few, if any, of her little friends would have had any idea what she was. They probably would have even struggled with identifying her as a throw-back of the 80's, let alone what from the 80's she was.

Like My Friends the Lemurs

I think I've gone into torpor (like hibernation but I'm not sleeping). I think I at so much food the last couple of weeks (there were seriously 5 courses at both the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception, including a pasta course. I didn't even know pasta courses existed!). I'm not saying that I'm not eating because I ate too much and gained a bajillion pounds and blah blah blah. I haven't really been hungry for about a week. Nope, no rumbly in this tumbly. I eat because I know I have to, but I'm kind of off food. I don't think one should be off food.

I'm Back (Again)!

Happy post holidays! I've been on a much-deserved vacation to - wait for it - the Metro Detroit area! I took two weeks off work because I had holidays, weddings and birthdays to celebrate. I was in a wedding on New Years Eve, which made for quite a party. Everything was fancy and I felt like a princess in my dress (not to steal the thunder from the bride, it really wasn't about me anyway). We had the bachelorette party earlier in the week then the rehearsal (so much food!) and then the wedding and reception (more food!). Of course the reception lasted over midnight and the DJ even had a little TV so we watched the last two minutes of Dick Clark's New Year's Rockin' Eve and we toasted with champagne and noise makers and bubbles (which were specifically requested to stay off the dance floor, lest the two couple married 51 years fall down). We then had an afterparty in the hotel. It was all quite an affair.

Because Everyone Else is Doing It

In my dream last night, I was a crime fighter working alongside Jerry O'Connell. It wasn't like in his TV show; I wasn't an M.E. looking for clues. Jerry was a copper, but he was playing himself. I think we were trying to bust a drug ring. He had been talking to someone suspicious in a bar but didn't get anything out of him so he left. I thought he went to the bathroom, so I waited outside for him to come out. He never did, but I saw some woman get hauled down some dark hallway towards a boiler room or something dungeon-esque because she knew too much. I then figure out Jerry wasn't in the bathroom, so I went outside to go to the police station. Just then, Jerry came back. He sauntered over to me, I told him what was going on and he said the suspicious man said something that just wasn't right. Some of the drug guys came out and we hid under the stairs to the bar's entrance. Jerry pulled out his gun and I sat way back so he could shoot around me (I think I was a civilian helper and therefore didn't have one). I woke up right before the first shot would have been fired.

Ah, Jerry. You'll never guess my secret identity. Who's on the inside, looking out?

The Radio Music Awards

I had the RMAs on last night while I was reading a For Fun book and here are some things I'd like to share:

1. In the hour and a half I watched, they seriously gave out about six awards. Which is fine, except the rest wasn't, of course, performances, there was also some stupid skits involving a Las Vegas Santa and reality show "winners".

2. The comeback that is Ricky Martin looked good...until he started to dance. It wasn't so much Shake Your Bon Bon as it was Shake Your Leg and Tilt Your Head As If You Just Got Out of the Pool and Have Water in Your Ear and Are Trying to Get it Out (did anyone else do that? Or was it some cruel thing my aunt told us to make us look ridiculous?). He just looked silly.

3. What was going on with Mariah Carey's breasts? Somehow, the gimungous things made her look mannish. I really couldn't figure it out. Ah, crazy Mariah.

It's Sounds Gross, But I Bet You're Curious!

For the departmental Christmas party last night, I took some tasty treats that I liked to call Flattened Snowman Bits. These were really Minty Cheese Balls.

Minty Cheese Balls!?!? Yes, Minty Cheese Balls. I picked this treat solely based on the number of ingredients: 3. I had never made them before or even eaten one before. But really, it only meant I had to buy cream cheese and mint extract and it's the end (middle!) of the month of December and I have no money so that was good. I refused to try one before the party because 1) it would ruin the nice, even two dozen and 2) if they were disgusting, I would be obligated to buy something else. This way, I could feign ignorance.

So when I got to the party, before even setting them out, I made someone else eat one. And they were good! Someone even said they tasted like Junior Mints' minty center. I feel the presentation was lacking a bit (they need color; next time I'll use food coloring, colored sugar or even jimmies to roll them in), but I was happy that they were not only edible but tasty. Now I'm going to end up making the all over the place, they are my new specialty.

Given a Little More Thought...

Related to yesterday's post, I do say things like "I can't wait for Dairy Queen on Tuesday." I guess I exaggerate only when food, not people, is involved.

Gross!

The 10 second rule shouldn't be in affect in labs, right? Too bad, I ate the cookie anyway. (It's was a cookie!)

Updates

One: The footwear my brother sent me was some Uggs. It was part of his Christmas present from his company. He kept the iPod and regifted the boots to me, saying they weren't quite his style. I don't know if they're my style either, as they don't match my closet. I've never really understood Uggs, but I put them on the other day and they kept my tootsies so warm! It'll really cut down on the electricity. And for those of you (like me) who have never gotten why you've seen people wearing them in the summer, I guess they originated as surfer-wear and, according to the booklet that came with the boots, they are meant to keep your feet at body temperature in the cold and the hot (although, does anyone really need to keep their feet at body temperature in the hot? Do feet get hotter than body temperature, like they get colder in the cold? And I like to wear no shoes in the summer. But whatever.). I've never really gone for fads or trends (the 80s don't count, although it was really only me and my best friend who pegged our pants. Stop laughing) and, at times, rebel just because everyone's doing it (which includes a certain wizard whose name rhymes with hairy.). I do appreciate them, it's a cool present. And it's kind of fun having something "high fashion". Until now, the fanciest thing I've owned was a clearance shirt from Banana Republic. And a pair of Levis. As an added bonus, the box they came in works perfectly for something I've been trying to ship for a week but couldn't find a box for.

Two: I received a mystery call today. The number came up as Unknown but there and there was no message. Perhaps it is the man who keeps calling? Except usually a number pops up. But that's exciting if he finally learned to listen.

He Must Live at 1600 Pennsylvania Ave

Remember the calls for the customize kitchen place? Yeah, so now I keep getting one from some man from such a place calling on behalf of his clients so and so for some man that works at the kitchen place.

I've spoken with this man calling and explained that, yes, he is dialing correctly but, no, I am not that man he is trying to reach.

It hasn't stopped him. I get at least one voicemail a week with the same message (see above). So I changed my outgoing "greeting".

"Hi, you've reach xxx-xxx-xxxx. I am NOT (kitchen place). If you're calling for Cheryl, please leave a message. Thanks, bye." (that last part stated all sachharine sweet with only a hint, a hint of sarcasm.)

He called again yesterday. I thought maybe he was confused because I actually mentioned the company he's trying to call in in the message. Thus, my new message plays as follows:

"Hi, you've reach CHERYL. I do not custom-make anything. I do not know (man's name). If you're calling for CHERYL, please leave a message. Thanks, bye."

Somehow, I don't think it will work.

Unfinished Sentence

I don't remember last week's and I don't want to look it up, so I declare David Bowie to be the winner.

This week's sentence:

"Monkey business would be even better if it also involved ____________."

So That You Are Not Kept In Suspense Any Longer (or Maybe in More Suspense)!

I received footwear yesterday from my brother! That's all I'm going to say until I talk to him. I will tell you this: it was not a little elfin man as I had feared/hoped.

See November 9th

We had our holiday brunch(eon?) yesterday at Job #1. It started at 11 and went until 1, but, because I normally work only until noon, I decided to wait until then. Also, entertainment was provided by the local elementary school choir and I was hoping to miss them. Additional "entertainment" was a carol lead by the Job #1 community (aka a sing-a-long for adults).

The school-wide lunches are usually hamburgers and paper plates with folding tables and include students. Yesterday was fancy with chicken and real plates and actual tables and students weren't invited (ha ha! Who's better than who now?). Around noon, I stopped by my boss' office, where he was eating lunch, knowing nothing about this event (the secretary went around telling everyone else who already knew, I don't know why she missed someone who didn't). So he came to lunch with me. Pickins' were slim since we were late (they put more food out as soon as we sat down), but we found stuff and I had pie. We chatted for a minute and then...out came the kids. Apparently coming an hour late was not late enough for I had to endure, er, enjoy, the children singing. They started singing and my boss and I both started giggling (not at them, mind you, but at the situation. I had earlier mentioned that I was not planning on staying for the festivities, which included the singing children and my boss agreed that he did not enjoy singing children, either). I guess we came JUST for the singing children.

(The second graders were okay, they were at least cute when they sang and danced to a boogying santa. The fourth graders were totally uninterested and were all about speeding up the song rather than keeping the tempo with the music and the music teacher couldn't control them.)

Two Pedestrians

Yesterday on my walk to work, I was behind this girl with such horrible posture. And it wasn't that she was hunkered down against the cold (although, she was not wearing a hat, silly girl!), it was that she, apparently, was impersonating someone named Quasi. I really really wanted to go behind her, grab her shoulders and yank them straight. I think this was something my dad used to do and I think I have pretty good posture. Straight, but not so straight it looks as though I am wearing uncomfortable underwear.

On the walk home, I passed a girl on her phone who told the other person's voicemail that she couldn't wait to see them. I thought, how nice! But then I thought, I don't think I've ever told someone I couldn't wait to see them. I've been excited to see people, but I've never actually told someone that I absolutely was going to die or wet my pants because I couldn't contain myself until then. Maybe that makes me a bad friend (or maybe it makes me someone not prone to exaggerations - at least not those kinds. A gajillion billion trillion cookies in my freezer is another thing.)

Reasons Why I Haven't Posted

- I've been working on my stats take-home exam. Man, I haven't spent all day on school work since April (and by all day, I mean on Sunday I started at 1:30, there was an hour phone call in there somewhere, and there was the occassional five minute nap)! It actually made me a little crazy, and I was marching around singing The Toy Soldier March to my cat. I don't even like the song!

- I've worked late all week so far because I wanted to get in my hours so I could attend all my holiday parties (4) this week. And, yes, that includes The O.C.'s Chistmakkah tonight.