I walked into the restroom at work just in time to hear the tail end of this conversation:
"So, I had to use my hands."
"Oh my goodness! I hope you had gloves!"
"I did have some, thank goodness, or else it would have been such a mess!"
This made me laugh and laugh as I imagined the many scenarios those lines could apply to. I knew that I was being unfair since I came in at what was obviously the end of a story, and sure enough, being patient and listening paid off.
One of the women was telling the other, who used to be a hairdresser, about her recent dye-your-own-hair-at-home experience. The tools that came with the kit and apparently the instructions had somehow gotten lost, so she wasn't sure if she had the right dye:developer ratio, as well as having to use her own hands to mix and apply the dye.
Why? What were YOU thinking it was?
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
The Color Pink
Pink is many things.
Pink is the opposite of green.
I wear a lot of pink because I have green eyes, so the contrast between pink and green makes my eyes stand out more.
Pink is the color of bubblegum.
Bubblegum is the color of a house in my town. It is VERY pink.
P!nk is one of my favorite artists. If she were coming to town, I would gladly pay the ticket price to go see that performance live.
Pink is the color associated with baby girls. But real men wear pink. Eh, *shrug* whatever. I prefer to not get trapped by gender color lines. After all, if I can wear blue (and do often!), then men should be able to wear pink. Real or otherwise.
Pink is many things. But here's a riddle for you: What's "pink" that isn't pink?
A "pink" slip. I know, because I got one not too long ago. Yes, that's right. My position has been eliminated. Maybe that's why the notice wasn't pink. It came in a gray folder. Gray = somewhere between black and white = kind of non-existent...? Maybe.
At any rate, change is being imposed on me, and that's okay. No, really! It's sad I didn't take more initiative to impose change on myself, but it's a good opportunity to go out and make myself more worthwhile somewhere else. Not more worthwhile, but more valued. I AM worthwhile, but management here hasn't utilized that worthwhile-edness to its fullest extent.
A new adventure will be starting soon at probably a different company. I have mixed feelings about that part of it. After 15 years with the same company there are definitely benefits to sticking around for as long as you can. But the position I really want out of all the ones I've interviewed so far is actually at a rival, cross-town company. Trading one rodent for another. Moving from a mouse trap to rabbit hunting. That would be the ideal scenario at this point. Wherever I land, it will be good. And even though I don't know WHERE I know it WILL happen, and that's what keeps me going.
Well, that and the nice pink shirt I've got on today!
Pink is the opposite of green.
I wear a lot of pink because I have green eyes, so the contrast between pink and green makes my eyes stand out more.
Pink is the color of bubblegum.
Bubblegum is the color of a house in my town. It is VERY pink.
P!nk is one of my favorite artists. If she were coming to town, I would gladly pay the ticket price to go see that performance live.
Pink is the color associated with baby girls. But real men wear pink. Eh, *shrug* whatever. I prefer to not get trapped by gender color lines. After all, if I can wear blue (and do often!), then men should be able to wear pink. Real or otherwise.
Pink is many things. But here's a riddle for you: What's "pink" that isn't pink?
A "pink" slip. I know, because I got one not too long ago. Yes, that's right. My position has been eliminated. Maybe that's why the notice wasn't pink. It came in a gray folder. Gray = somewhere between black and white = kind of non-existent...? Maybe.
At any rate, change is being imposed on me, and that's okay. No, really! It's sad I didn't take more initiative to impose change on myself, but it's a good opportunity to go out and make myself more worthwhile somewhere else. Not more worthwhile, but more valued. I AM worthwhile, but management here hasn't utilized that worthwhile-edness to its fullest extent.
A new adventure will be starting soon at probably a different company. I have mixed feelings about that part of it. After 15 years with the same company there are definitely benefits to sticking around for as long as you can. But the position I really want out of all the ones I've interviewed so far is actually at a rival, cross-town company. Trading one rodent for another. Moving from a mouse trap to rabbit hunting. That would be the ideal scenario at this point. Wherever I land, it will be good. And even though I don't know WHERE I know it WILL happen, and that's what keeps me going.
Well, that and the nice pink shirt I've got on today!
Sunday, February 27, 2011
The Other OTHER Big News in Burbank
You may have heard that it snowed yesterday in Burbank. Yes, snowed. Burbank. Los Angeles-adjacent. Snow. The last time that happened was in 1949, so I guess you could say it was due.
Here I am making a snow angel:
But the thing that really captured my attention happened right outside our door. We live right next door to a freeway onramp for a major interstate (can you live next"door" to a thing that doesn't have doors?). We frequently hear, besides normal traffic sounds (huge motorcycle engines, truck brakes, horns honking, squealing tires) all sorts of things you dread hearing, let alone being involved in. For example, when the squeal of the brakes is quickly followed by a loud thump-bump-crash-bang-THUD. That's the sound you don't want to hear.
We hear that sound a lot. And have gone up the onramp (or offramp, depending on the direction) several times to offer assistance.
Last night we didn't have to go very far to offer assistance. One driver was starting to make a left turn onto the freeway onramp and met someone else going straight. The guy going straight somehow did a complete u-turn and ended up on the sidewalk in front of our house, facing the opposite direction, neatly parallel parked between a light post and fire hydrant.
Needless to say, both cars were disabled, and traffic patterns were quickly frustrated on our usually busy street.
Here are some photos from the night's events
(Don't you like my mad Photoshop skilz in blacking out the license plate numbers?)
Seriously -- I have no idea how he managed to avoid all property other damage other than probably some tire marks on the wet grass. Pretty amazing.
Best part of the night? Chatting with the very good looking Burbank firemen!
Here I am making a snow angel:
But the thing that really captured my attention happened right outside our door. We live right next door to a freeway onramp for a major interstate (can you live next"door" to a thing that doesn't have doors?). We frequently hear, besides normal traffic sounds (huge motorcycle engines, truck brakes, horns honking, squealing tires) all sorts of things you dread hearing, let alone being involved in. For example, when the squeal of the brakes is quickly followed by a loud thump-bump-crash-bang-THUD. That's the sound you don't want to hear.
We hear that sound a lot. And have gone up the onramp (or offramp, depending on the direction) several times to offer assistance.
Last night we didn't have to go very far to offer assistance. One driver was starting to make a left turn onto the freeway onramp and met someone else going straight. The guy going straight somehow did a complete u-turn and ended up on the sidewalk in front of our house, facing the opposite direction, neatly parallel parked between a light post and fire hydrant.
Needless to say, both cars were disabled, and traffic patterns were quickly frustrated on our usually busy street.
Here are some photos from the night's events
(Don't you like my mad Photoshop skilz in blacking out the license plate numbers?)
Seriously -- I have no idea how he managed to avoid all property other damage other than probably some tire marks on the wet grass. Pretty amazing. Best part of the night? Chatting with the very good looking Burbank firemen!
Spotted at Disneyland
What you should NEVER do with a light saber:
It's either going to do some serious damage to important body parts and organs, or take someone else off at the knees. Either way, it's not very attractive.
It's either going to do some serious damage to important body parts and organs, or take someone else off at the knees. Either way, it's not very attractive.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
The Mozart Season
I just finished reading a beautiful book and wanted to tell you about it. No, I'm too lazy to do a book report or anything fancy or formal like that, but too often I read a book that I enjoy, put it down and move immediately to the next one in my stack. This one was too lovely to do that to. So if anyone's looking for a good book to read, go to your local library and check out "The Mozart Season," by Virginia Euwer Wolff.
I thought at first I wasn't going to like it, or worse, would be bored by it, since the protagonist is a 12 year old girl, which seems a young age to have anything compelling to share. But the prose of this author make this girl mature even as she grows into her own maturity. It is insightful and philosophical and haunting and quite frankly, brought tears to my eyes more than once, but in a good way.
Go. Read. Then let me know what you think about the steel fountain impromptu concert in the rose park.
I thought at first I wasn't going to like it, or worse, would be bored by it, since the protagonist is a 12 year old girl, which seems a young age to have anything compelling to share. But the prose of this author make this girl mature even as she grows into her own maturity. It is insightful and philosophical and haunting and quite frankly, brought tears to my eyes more than once, but in a good way.
Go. Read. Then let me know what you think about the steel fountain impromptu concert in the rose park.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Q: The Birthday Post
You've perhaps seen blog posts by proud mommies on the occasion of their children's birthdays, enumerating and extolling their virtuous qualities.
I am not a mommy, proud or otherwise, but yesterday marked the date of the birthday of a dear friend of mine, Qwendy, and I thought I'd sing her praises in a post dedicated just to her. Also? I'm the cheapest kind of friend -- this is her birthday present from me! Lucky her!
First, let me tell you how that name came to be. We live in a world of acronyms. She's forever mocking me for the multi-initialed department name I work in, because it makes for a lengthy, unintelligable-unless-you-have-the-decoder-ring phone greeting when I answer the phone. One day she asked me what I liked at a certain Mexican fast food restaurant, and I said I liked the BRC burrito. Because it's not enough that I use acronyms all day long, apparently it's crept into my personal life as well. In Wendy's mind, it couldn't just be a "BRC" (beans, rice, cheese) burrito -- it had to have even more initials, especially some Qs. The more Qs the better. So she just started adding it to her name. One day she was on the phone with the bank, and the customer service representative asked her how to spell her name. "Oh, you know, the usual way: Q, W, E, N, D, Y." The woman paused, obviously flustered. Wendy said, "Don't worry, the Q is silent. And invisible. Invisible and silent." And thus Qwendy was born.
Wendy is one of my longest friends. I have known her for almost as long as she's been married. She was my visiting teacher when Cim and I moved to southern California. She was willing to do whatever we asked, including a run to Taco Bell for us when circumstances dictated.
The bestest thing about Wendy is her ability to live in a made-up world. I was describing her to one of my sisters once, and when I said that Wendy lives in a fictional world, my sister, the psycho-therapist, grew very concerned and said, "Does she know it's not real?"
Wendy's fictional world includes some of the following bigger-than-life realities:
* I don't just work for a major entertainment company ... in Wendy's world, I work side-by-side with the handsome, famous and very rich CEO.
* Said handsome, famous and very rich CEO, in Wendy's world, is named Bob iPod. It's gotten to the point that when people at work make reference to him by his real name, I'm not sure who they're talking about. Many times I have almost used his Wendy-fictional name when referring to him.
* My position at this entertainment company is such that when Wendy and her family are visiting a certain amusement park, they frequently throw my name around hoping for the "good" perks. Her children are always asking her what Auntie Laura is going to do for them at the Park today...
* When I started taking golf lessons, I was no mere beginner golfer, no not I. I was actually in training for the LPGA tour.
*...the list continues.
Her world is a rich one. I'm finally learning, after 15 years, to roll with the fictional punches and add my own story lines to today's novel. Instead of balking when she asks my opinion about her painting the podium in the primary room pink, I take it up a notch and suggest red, yellow and blue polka-dots instead.
She keeps me on my toes, makes me laugh, and always has sage advice and council (providing you can pull her out of Wendy-land long enough for her to be serious). She is an excellent mother, and I have learned a lot from her as I watch her parent her two beautiful children.
Happy birthday, Wendy-with-the-silent-and-invisible-Q. I look forward to many more years of laughter and fun with you as a friend.
I am not a mommy, proud or otherwise, but yesterday marked the date of the birthday of a dear friend of mine, Qwendy, and I thought I'd sing her praises in a post dedicated just to her. Also? I'm the cheapest kind of friend -- this is her birthday present from me! Lucky her!
First, let me tell you how that name came to be. We live in a world of acronyms. She's forever mocking me for the multi-initialed department name I work in, because it makes for a lengthy, unintelligable-unless-you-have-the-decoder-ring phone greeting when I answer the phone. One day she asked me what I liked at a certain Mexican fast food restaurant, and I said I liked the BRC burrito. Because it's not enough that I use acronyms all day long, apparently it's crept into my personal life as well. In Wendy's mind, it couldn't just be a "BRC" (beans, rice, cheese) burrito -- it had to have even more initials, especially some Qs. The more Qs the better. So she just started adding it to her name. One day she was on the phone with the bank, and the customer service representative asked her how to spell her name. "Oh, you know, the usual way: Q, W, E, N, D, Y." The woman paused, obviously flustered. Wendy said, "Don't worry, the Q is silent. And invisible. Invisible and silent." And thus Qwendy was born.
Wendy is one of my longest friends. I have known her for almost as long as she's been married. She was my visiting teacher when Cim and I moved to southern California. She was willing to do whatever we asked, including a run to Taco Bell for us when circumstances dictated.
The bestest thing about Wendy is her ability to live in a made-up world. I was describing her to one of my sisters once, and when I said that Wendy lives in a fictional world, my sister, the psycho-therapist, grew very concerned and said, "Does she know it's not real?"
Wendy's fictional world includes some of the following bigger-than-life realities:
* I don't just work for a major entertainment company ... in Wendy's world, I work side-by-side with the handsome, famous and very rich CEO.
* Said handsome, famous and very rich CEO, in Wendy's world, is named Bob iPod. It's gotten to the point that when people at work make reference to him by his real name, I'm not sure who they're talking about. Many times I have almost used his Wendy-fictional name when referring to him.
* My position at this entertainment company is such that when Wendy and her family are visiting a certain amusement park, they frequently throw my name around hoping for the "good" perks. Her children are always asking her what Auntie Laura is going to do for them at the Park today...
* When I started taking golf lessons, I was no mere beginner golfer, no not I. I was actually in training for the LPGA tour.
*...the list continues.
Her world is a rich one. I'm finally learning, after 15 years, to roll with the fictional punches and add my own story lines to today's novel. Instead of balking when she asks my opinion about her painting the podium in the primary room pink, I take it up a notch and suggest red, yellow and blue polka-dots instead.
She keeps me on my toes, makes me laugh, and always has sage advice and council (providing you can pull her out of Wendy-land long enough for her to be serious). She is an excellent mother, and I have learned a lot from her as I watch her parent her two beautiful children.
Happy birthday, Wendy-with-the-silent-and-invisible-Q. I look forward to many more years of laughter and fun with you as a friend.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Big Sky Country -- the Real One
In September I went to Montana to visit some friends who live in West Yellowstone. Yes, live there. They don't visit, they're not part of the hordes of tourists that go through Yellowstone National Park every year -- they live there. For me, there is no place on earth more peaceful than that part of the country. The wind whispers through the high trees, you can't turn your head without seeing or hearing some form of animal life, and there is just an overall feeling of peace and calm there.
Here are some photographic highlights from the trip.
Here are some photographic highlights from the trip.
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