Disclaimer

I am sure Abraham was not a stiff, but if he cried because of ice cream, then he exhibited stifflike behavior, ok??

Big fan of Abe. Big fan of Moses, too. Like the Jesus, as well. It's all good.

Back off!

End of the day meme

Lifted from doc:

Current activity: wearing a towel with wild, wet hair and drinking milk out of a wine glass
Activity earlier this evening: hosting a rodeo party for work
Current thought: Damn, Doc, 29 miles? When's your century ride?
Current music: Beethoven's 7th
Current weather: 48 degrees
Current happenings: silence; I'm in Clear Lake, for gods' sake
Cat 1 current activity: sitting on my feet
Cat 2 current activity: chasing bugs through the window pane
Favorite activity of the day: judging the cowpattie eating contest
Most productive activity of the day: the party
Quote that is sending me to hell: [After being told that not only did I make baby Jesus cry but Abraham, too] "Yeah, well then Abraham was a stiff"
Reason for the quote: I'm doing an ice cream seder to teach about the Passover with the kids rather than a traditional one this year.

Back off

I didn't think that I could like a shirt better than my Don't Mess With Delaware or my Slykicks tee, but one of my staff proved me wrong.

You see, it's been a rough month at the ole place of employment. I've been disregarded. I've been called curt, caustic, and cantankerous (love the alliteration), and I've been told that I make baby Jesus cry. The disregarded thing is the one that has really tied me up in angry little knots, so this tee was much appreciated.

I can't find it online anywhere, so I'm thinking that she made it herself, but here's the description. At first glance, all you see is this gigantic violet much like the hideous flowers you might find in 1950s greeting cards. But if you read the fine print it says: "I'm the director. I'm in charge. BACK OFF!"

I'm as giddy as a schoolgirl hopped up on pixy stix and her first kiss!

Meow

You Are Catwoman

"Life's a bitch. Now so am I."

What Superheroine Are You?

What's in a name?

What your name Means

You are a seeker of knowledge, and you have learned many things in your life. You are also a keeper of knowledge - meaning you don't spill secrets or spread gossip. People sometimes think you're snobby or aloof, but you're just too deep in thought to pay attention to them. You tend to be pretty tightly wound. It's easy to get you excited... which can be a good or bad thing. You have a lot of enthusiasm, but it fades rather quickly. You don't stick with any one thing for very long. You have the drive to accomplish a lot in a short amount of time. Your biggest problem is making sure you finish the projects you start. You are confident, self assured, and capable. You are not easily intimidated. You master any and all skills easily. You don't have to work hard for what you want. You make your life out to be exactly how you want it. And you'll knock down anyone who gets in your way!

What's Your Name's Hidden Meaning?

Where is the love?

The only place I've found it today was in the dumpster.

Radford and Regina were having a love feast a la Lady and the Tramp this evening in the apartment dumpster. That was the crowning Aw Moment of my day.

Hellish Highlights:

* I began the day with 2 hours of sleep and a sour stomach from rich Caucasians (of the beverage kind).

* Work. Patriarchal Xians with control issues. Enough said.

* Other work: at the Trekkie school I teach at, I was sent an email reprimanding me for not locking a door. The IT person apparently has been irritated for weeks about how several profs haven't locked the classroom doors when they finished lecturing (because WHO does that?). So she sends an email directly to the college president complaining about it. She claims to have conducted a test, inciting her student assistants to "steal" a computer out of my room and march it out the door at 9pm after I had gone, and then is amazed that no one even noticed him stealing it. Let me set this up for you. This computer is the one BOLTED DOWN to a desk in the room, the one that the instructor uses for powerpoint, etc. To steal it, someone would need to take tools into the room to unbolt it. So she apparently gave tools to her aides and told them to take it, which she promptly and proudly put in her office. She then sends said email to the fucking president, who immediately shoots back, "Who is this instructor? What is their name?" She tells him my name and says that she will notify my department head. Come the fuck on! The email chain continues up the ladder to the dean and department head, who sends me an email saying, "Lock the door." The story spread throughout the college, prompting constant Office Space-esque comments about how I am having problems with my door locking. It also prompted a slew of emails about how security needs to be tightened since someone can walk out of an office with a computer and no one says a word (see #5 in the paragraph below).

Ok #1--seriously, if you are the head of IT at a technical school and you have nothing better to do on a thursday night than to fake a computer stealing scam, you are not doing your job; #2--if you are the president of a college and you have nothing better to do than investigate the name of an employee who didn't lock a door, you are not doing your job; #3--who the fuck sends an email to the president of a college about an unlocked door? Chain of command here, people!; #4--again, how many of you college educators out there lock the door after you leave it?; #5--the IT department aide is coming out of the door with a computer--who in the hell would suspect foul play?

* Glinda. Glinda has proven once and for all that she is the greater evil. And she will pay.

There is no love for Cranky today. Even Jeffery N remains aloof.

Bow to me

You Are a Total Brainiac

You're amazingly brilliant. Some would even say genius. You're curious, thoughtful, analytical, and confident. You take on difficult subjects because you want to... not because you have to. No field of knowledge is too complicated or intimidating for you. You've got the brains to do anything you want. It's possible you end up doing everything you want.

Are You a Brainiac?

Yeah, but I have no life and thus nothing to post about but the results of stupid quizzes. Ah well, at least I'll have Jeffery N.

Appropos

Your Rockstar Name Is...

Angel Agony

What's Your Rockstar Name?

Well that settles it

Why have I wasted my time dating, when I could've just asked blogthings:

Your True Love's Name Is

Jeffery N.

What's Your True Love's Name?

Wow. Ok, Jeffery N, I expect you to comment to this post ASAP. Let's get a move on!

The rest of the story

And I did complete the marathon in my dream, btw, even though I overslept and had to start an hour after the rest of the runners. Yea me!

Super Snoozeday

Last night I dreamed that I was running another marathon. I'm not sure where it was, but I was staying in a very lavish hotel. I had gone downstairs to sit by the fire and watch the big screened HDTV, when I overheard some guy behind me commenting on whatever I was watching. I commented back, and we continued a nice, light banter back and forth. I stayed focused on the tv until he said something particularly intriguing (I can't remember what), and at that point, I turned around to see Barak Obama, dressed in a nice casual blue and cream button down with a cream shirt underneath. He was sitting at a very ornate writing desk composing some sort of letter. We talked for a few more hours, again with ease and warmth. His wife and kids came by eventually, and we all had a wonderful conversation about Chicago and the south suburbs, and for some reason, I think we talked about organic foods.

Finally, I looked at my watch and decided to rest up for the big day ahead of me. When I got to my room, I opened up the patio doors (I was on the first floor) to see Hillary Clinton driving up or being driven rather. She was in an incredible suit with a necklace and shoes to die for, lips painted like Marlene Dietrich. She stepped out, and I said, "Hello, Senator." She stopped and said hello, holding out an impeccable manicured hand, the other hand embracing a black clutch.

I asked her how things were, and she very candidly said that it was tough being on the road and in the line of fire. She teared up a little, then shook off the tears and mentioned something about giving up, and I said something ridiculous about not giving up on the little girls who one day hope to be president or something sappy like that (I was a much better conversationalist with Obama). Just then, her entourage emerged from the car, and she snapped into a colder personality, telling me that I should get pregnant so that there would be more democrats like me in the world. She turned to her entourage for a laugh, which they gave her, and then she waved me off. I felt dismissed, and decided that I was going to vote for Obama after all when John Edwards' face appeared in the sky. He was leaving to join the pod people, he said, and I muttered, "Figures."

WTF?

see

the words "boots" and "hot" were deleted from the last sentence.


The truth is out there!

Little grey men

Ok, I had an acquaintance in college who was convinced that Tom Petty either died or was kidnapped (I can't remember which) at the hands of aliens and replaced by a Pod Person. so the Tom Petty from the 70s was not the TP of the 90s. He claimed that there were a bunch of people who believed the same thing he did and would point out differences in style, both musical and fashionwise (none of which I can remember). He also thought John Tesh was a Pod person. That one I'm more likely to believe.

Why do I mention this? It's because on my previous post, I put that Tom Petty's boots were hot. When I published it, however, that comment was missing, and weirder yet, the numbered list is seamless, so where did that number go? I know I typed it. I know it was there when I proofed before publishing. Where did it go? Perhaps the Pod Person doesn't want people talking about his boots? Or maybe that was one of the key differences I don't remember. [insert X files music]

[ooo random thought: I am SO gonna be Dana Scully for Halloween this year]

I just tried googling Tom Petty aliens pod people conspiracy, and nothing comes up. Do you think that the guy from college was the only one who believed it?

Oh well, Pod person or not, his were . Let's see if it shows up on this post.

Cranky's Post Game Report

Yesterday began as a bad day for me. My laundry room flooded, people at work are pushing every last ounce of energy I have to tolerate morons, someone dinged my car in two places in the parking lot--the list continues.

I blame most of it to the fact that I didn't have a White Russian the night before. Celebrating Marmot Day without a Caucasian is like Mardi Gras without the King's Cake and gratuitous nudity. Thinking that it's never too late for a Cauc, I headed home in my dinged up car and poured myself a nice tall one.

Then I got hungry, so I headed out to a local bar/grill and ordered some food and another Russian while watching bull riding on TV. Why a bar/grill wouldn't be showing pre-game stuff on Superbowl Sunday is beyond me, but I got bull riding instead. And this is no ordinary bull riding, my friends. No, the wonder worriers of the 21st century have tainted another ridiculous sport (dodgeball being the first). Now bull riders are encouraged to wear helmets, neck braces, and kevlar vests. COME ON! You are the same people who beat wimpy kids up for wearing stupid shit like that. Don't get me wrong. They probably should wear protective gear. Still, given that it is generally a sport meant to prove some sense of stereotypical "manhood," I'm surprised they wear the things, and you have to admit that it looks pretty funny. [no offense to G's brother who would probably look hot in a helmet].

Ok, so on to the game. Here are my Cranky highlights in random order:

1. Yeah Giants!

2. A marmot and Rocky themes in commercials. It's like they knew I was watching.

3. Wes Welker--That little son of a bitch was amazing. If he were a woman, Glinda would be all over him. He looked like a Munchkin tackling a bunch of winged monkeys. He was like fucking Scrappy Doo out there. Unbelievable.

4. Sobe Lizards dancing to Thriller. I didn't understand the commercial. I thought the woman was entirely untalented and unnecessary, but damnit, the lizards made me happy.

5. I never thought I'd say this, but that Audi was HOT!

6. Howie [sigh]; I *heart* Howie.

7. This is the first time I've watched TB without screaming: "I fucking hate Terry Bradshaw...stupidass...[more profanity]. Maybe it's because he didn't have a voice.

8. Seriously, at what point will Jimmy Johnson's hair thin? Is it real? Has it always been a rug? I'm so confused.

9. Couldn't help but notice the abundance of 49ers references: Bill Walsh, Steve Young (2nd best QB ever), Joe Montana (#1), Jerry Rice (#1 WR EVER), Ronnie Lott...

10. Is it bad that I put my lit phone up in the air during Free Fallin'?

11. 4:00 left on the clock during the final quarter: Did anyone else see a robot on the field? [found out later that this was some sort of camera. I swear it looked like Number 5].

12. 4th quarter with less than a minute to go: holy shit. OMG. Eli somehow emerges from a tangled mess of humans, passes it to Tyree, who caught it while being pinned in a Backbreaker WWF style. Unbelievable!

13. Prince Caspian--woohoooooooo!

14. Danica Patrick--she's strong and talented, and I just keep hoping she avoids that fine line between being a woman who excels in a traditionally male sport and being a woman who caters to the traditional male view of women as sex object.

15. OMG the final catch

16. ok, I know it's a hybrid, but what the hell do the Mannings need another Escalade in their family for?

17. And finally, why couldn't someone have at least mentioned Archie Manning. it cost me my Bingo, damnit.

So, the upshot is that it IS never too late for a Caucasian. They turn even the most lugubrious days into Crankylicious ones.

Happy Marmot Day!

I loved groundhog's day as a kid. Perhaps it was because it was a day about a rodent, one of my favorite creatures. Perhaps it was because my family gives each other presents for every holiday. Perhaps it was because I held on to childlike hope that the groundhog would not, in fact, see his shadow.

As the years went by, my delight in groundhog's day morphed into confusion: In order to see his shadow, it would have to be bright outside, so a sunny day should indicate the end of winter, not the beginning of it. Nevertheless, I pushed all doubts aside and basked in the glory of all things groundhog.

And then, around 5 years ago (yes, it took me that long), it hit me--those bastards always make the damn groundhog see his shadow. I lived under the delusion that they sat the damn rat on a stump and looked for a shadow. It was one blustery, dark winter's day when I saw that there was no shadow, yet Pete or Phil or whatever still saw it. Like today, for instance--Look at the photos! There is no shadow, yet he sees it in the "bright sky." Yeah, right.

So I quit loving groundhog's day until this year. It's the year of the rat and the year of the marmot, and I am happy to celebrate all things rodent. Ever since Prax and I saw that dead bloated thing and developed the OM plan, I have thought more and more about how we should be supporters, rallyers, proponents of the marmot. They need our support, for gods' sake. I mean, Robert Goulet's clone is practically wiping them out.

So on this day, Feb 2, 2008, I hearby declare the beginning of a series of Marmot days, for I shall celebrate Groundhog's day with fervor, year after year. Bowling, White Russians, ferrets, sasparilla, a donation to some urban achievers' fund--the festivities are endless, and I know that Prax is celebrating with me on the other side of the country. Next year, perhaps, I will throw a party, and if I am in Lubbock, we'll have tumbleweeds to boot!

For now, my only regret is that I didn't purchase my tshirt.