Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Isn't the World a Lovely Place

I speed to work three mornings a week, knowing that I will inevitably be four minutes late. Living in the country, as I do, there is the constant problem of squirrels and baby bunnies racing across the street in front of, or under, my lightning-quick car. I feel this is an unnecessarily frantic way to begin my day, and this makes me mad at the squirrels and baby bunnies. I live on a dirt road, there is very little traffic, and they could save everyone a lot of panic by simply waiting to run across the road until I have passed.

With the exception of egos and my bowling record, I do not like killing things. However, if I do run over one of these creatures (and hopefully kill it, as I would prefer to not have to continue backing up over it until it has been put out of its misery), it would be the perfect example of a lose-lose-lose situation. Lose- the little animal loses its life. Lose- its family members mourn the loss and run out into the street to take care of arrangements, risking the loss of their own lives. Loss- I am left feeling guilty, angry, confused, hopeless, and emotionally worn.

Seeing a delicate, little piece of roadkill the other day got my thinking: this scenario could be worse. Instead of squirrels and baby bunnies, what if My Little Ponies were running everywhere? At first, it sounds great. Nothing is cuter than tiny, pastel ponies running around in the grass, stealing strawberries from picnic baskets, and nuzzling babies.

The downside: I cannot imagine how I would feel if my day started with the unnecessary death of a little lavendar pony, with long eyelashes, silky hair, and something cute and friendly to say. As it snorted its last little breath, its head in my lap, it would ask me to give its hair brush to its family. Even though the My Little Pony never should have run under my wheels, it would still be my fault. There would be no rainbows that day, and some sort of monster and/or toy store employee would probably come break my tiara.

Sunday, June 25, 2006

Trouble at Home

I try to hold 6-month reviews for all of my electronics. You know, I sit down with them and discuss past performance, motivation levels, areas for improvement, opportunities for advancement, etc. Yesterday's meeting with my alarm clock was eye-opening. He said that he will either work mornings or evenings, but not both. This explained why he has failed to wake me up from a number of early-evening naps.

I tried to negotiate. I said we would do two wake ups a day, only one snooze apiece, but he would not hear of it. He said that my early-evening naps were "impinging on his social life." And then he called me lazy. I said, "Listen Franklin, I am a night owl who happens to work very early mornings, and I don't have to defend myself to a $20 alarm clock."

I would love to fire him, but it is difficult to find a clock radio with indiscreet, green numbers, and he knows what this bargaining tool is worth. In the end, I promised to dust him more, and he said that, if he's around, he will try to wake me up from my early-evening naps, assuming I get right out of bed. It's an employee market these days, and if I don't keep him happy, he will walk.

Unfortunately, Franklin is actually the least of my worries. I think my iPod, cell phone and digital recorder are in talks to unionize.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Let's Go Out to the Movies, and Get Ourselves a Snack

Meghan, Ronnie and I have begun sneaking food and drinks into movies. The first time, we brought beer, saltines, baby carrots, and dark chocolate. The next time, we brought more beer, Goldfish crackers, and Little Debby snack cakes, which were a big hit. This last time, we decided to really up the ante. Beer, of course, large bottles of sparkling water, popcorn, bread, salad, and seafood stew. Though fantastic food choices, we hadn’t thought this whole thing out very well. When sneaking food into a movie, it’s really important to keep your movie choice in mind. Is it a comedy? Feel free to bring champagne. You can open it when people are laughing. However, seafood stew in a heartbreaking drama about the living conditions of Hindu widows, all done in sub-titles, was not smart. It was a tiny theater, and everyone could smell the cioppino fish soup within minutes. Plus, everyone could hear the beer opening, and everyone could smell the vinegar of the salad dressing.

Though inappropriate, nothing will top the time my sister and brother-in-law went to go see The Passion of the Christ with a large group of people that they knew. Ronnie had not eaten beforehand, so he got a large popcorn and large Icee to eat and drink during the previews…except that for the first time in history, there were no previews. So there was Ronnie, crunching his popcorn and slurping his Icee while Jesus was tempted and harassed in the Garden of Gethsemane.

Monday, June 19, 2006

Leighton + exclamation points = danger

This is me and my friend Carrie (left; my pseudo-lesbian vacation partner who actually really likes men), at a wedding in Colorado where we picked up dudes. Don't we look like twins????!!!!

Now, with no segue whatsoever, I would like to recommend that you go and read my sister's blog: www.100visionsandrevisions.blogspot.com. Go!! There's nothing else for you to read here today!!

Thursday, June 15, 2006

I just went out for a cup of coffee...

Yesterday, I went to Starbucks to get some work done. The only problem with trying to work at Starbucks is that there is usually at least one really distracting person, such as the large Southern man who sat next to me and asked me questions about Internet access even though I was obviously listening to music and writing. In hindsight, the large Southern man was nothing compared to the distraction who was about to walk into the front door- a blind man.

Most blind people that I have seen are extraordinary at maneuvering themselves around public areas. This man was not. He sat outside for awhile, but then came inside to find a chair. He walked up to a table where a young woman was sitting, and began touching the table and chair to see if they were occupied. As soon as he began feeling around, the woman told him that the table was occupied. While he should have moved on at that point, he kept feeling around because he couldn't hear her. He had headphones on. Now, as far as I know, most blind people develop a heightened sense of hearing in order to compensate for their lack of sight. Then, they can hear echoes and approaching cars and, most importantly, people telling them that the seat they are about to sit is already taken. I would think that most people would capitalize on this gift of improved hearing, instead of making things ten times harder for themselves by putting on headphones.

Anyway, since he could not hear the woman telling him that she was sitting at the table, he found out when he groped her waist. He then made his way over to my side of Starbucks, where I was packing up my stuff. As he went to sit down in my chair, I told him that he could have the seat as soon as I picked up the rest of my things. But no, he couldn't hear me because he had headphones on, and he sat on my computer.

So yes, I am a terrible person.

Monday, June 12, 2006

Cause the healing has begun

Tonight, as my sister and I lay listening to Van Morrison's "Into the Music," (not to be confused with "Into the Mystic," but thanks to all of those people who love to correct me), Meghan posed a shocking question. What is Van Morrison's first name?

Now, as a dedicated fan of ten years, I was ashamed to admit that I had always just assumed it was Van. I had never dared to question my sweet singer's coolness by thinking that he had chosen to use only his last name as a stage name. I felt this would have put him in a category with people like Cher and Prince, a categorization that would sully Van's pristine reputation.

Supposing he did have a first name that he had dropped, Meghan and I stared at the "Into the Music" album cover and speculated on first names. Cliff Van Morrison. Teddy Van Morrison. Wolf Van Morrison. Leighton Van Morrison. Hmmm.

Thanks to Wikipedia, the convenient online encyclopedia where any fact could be made up, the puzzle has been solved. His full name is George Ivan "Van" Morrison. His last name is in fact Morrison, and his first name is essentially Van, although George is his legal name. I love you "Van."

Sunday, June 04, 2006

Oh sh*t

First, a little back story- my sister ALWAYS orders the wrong things at restaurants. If a landlocked state has a restaurant famous for beef, she will go and order the salmon. At the seafood restaurant, she will order the vegetable platter. She reminded me of this the other night as we were deciding what to order at a a classic local restaurant that is known for having good New Mexican food.

I ordered a buffalo burger, and my sister ordered the chicken tostada, a menu item recommended by our waitress. I was proud of her. As we began eating, Meghan commented that she smelled something peculiar. I told her that I had ordered green chile on top of my burger, and that was probably responsible for the strong odor. She agreed. About four minutes later, she passed me a piece of chicken and told me to smell it. I was given no hints about what she thought it smelled like, but I guessed the right answer immediately. It smelled like honest-to-goodness human poop.

Do you know what it's like trying to explain to your friendly waitress that your use of the word "poop" is not hyperbolic? She looked horrified...and angry. (She's angry? She's the one who served us human poop!)

Needless to say, we cannot show our faces there again. On the upside, Meghan didn't get violently ill as anticipated.

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Oh, Think Twice

I think I saw David Crosby riding a motorcyle today. Or maybe it was Gallagher. You would be surprised how much they look alike when speeding past you on the highway. For it to count as a celebrity sighting, do you have to actually be sure that you saw them? And do you need to know who it is?

Pondering bald celebrities reminded me that I forgot to recount a dream I had a few months ago. In my dream, Phil Collins and I went on a date together to have sushi. I let him order for me. I don't remember where we went after dinner, but I woke up in a really good mood because, hey, it's Phil Collins. Would I go out with him again? Yes, I think I would.