Too Much Information.

I am trying to buy a new car. Despite all the irritating salesmen (most of whos names I can't pronounce nor understand when they say them), I am actually enjoying the process. Buying a new big something is fun and it kind of gets your adrenaline pumping. I'm a fan.

I called my bank today to try to get financing and see what sorts of interest rates they were offering. I get a lady, who I CAN actually understand - which is totally bizarre and completely unheard of - so I am more friendly than usual with this particular customer service representative, we will call her Carol (because that's her name). So maybe this can be blamed on me...but I doubt it.

After a few minutes of explaining my situation, i.e. I want a loan for a new car, etc, etc, she starts to ask me questions. All (okay MOST) of which are valid. What's my address? Houston. Her response is to tell me about the last time she was in Texas there was like tennis ball size hail and it was 100 degrees outside...which means like that up in the sky in must have been like the size of basketball because it was so like hot. First of all, I don't know about the rest of you Texans, but I do not like to have my state dissed. This is the best state ever. She goes on to tell me that she lives in San Diego and the weather is always gorgeous and how she hears how awful it is in Texas and how she wouldn't live here if someone paid her. It just isn't her cup of tea, but obviously it suits you, she says.

A few more questions and then she wants to know my birthday - March 13, 1981. Oh, yayy she says, hers is on the 20th. WOW Carol, we have SO much in common. Did you know that about 1 out of every 12 people you meet has a birthday in the same month as you? Awesome. Like totally awesome. Well, in addition to having her birthday 3 days after St. Patty's day, and getting to drink left over green beer, the St. Pattys Day before her 21st birthday, she got wasted and got a four-leaf clover tattooed on her ankle. Lucky for her, she was like smart enough not to get it on her boob or arm or anywhere where she could get like fat and saggy. She's a smart cookie, that Carol.

But obviously not as smart as her oldest sister (she has 2 older siblings), who graduated from University of Texas (see, it IS the best state EVER) in 2002 with a civil engineering degree. Oh my gosh, we STILL have so much in common!! Oldest sister now works in Dallas for a large surveying company, (name unknown by Carol) doing the exact same thing as me (she seems to know exactly what I do, despite the fact that I have given her no details other than the fact that I work for a chemical company). Oldest sister decided to leave California to get away from her parents. Carol doesn't know why, she like LOVES her parents...but that's probably because the last child has more freedom. Parents like put like all the boundaries on the oldest and then the youngest get to like run around and do whatever. Carol would like totally move back home now. Awesome.

In addition to the fact that Carol is apparently from The Valley and thinks that we are BFF, she wanted to know all about my wedding plans and Tommy and why I am buying the car I am buying and if we were saving for a house and if so, were we going to buy in Texas? 'Cause really, Texas sucks.

Really, Carol, I just want to know what sort of interest rate I can get if I finance my car through your bank. I don't need to know the date of your last period or mother's maiden name. What's the interest rate? C'mon sister, like, what's it gonna be?

Toronto...Canada in General.

I met Tommy in Toronto this weekend (he was there for business). Overall, we had a great time, but I have a very things to discuss about Canada (and by 'Canada', I mean Toronto, Niagara (both Canadian and USA-ian sides), and the Buffalo and Baltimore airports.

#1. Everyone hovers in Canada.
I am all about good hygiene, but really, if you're gonna hover, at least wipe your sprinkles off the seat when you are done. As a general rule, I am a sitter. This disgusts Tommy to no end and he claims that had he known this, he wold never have proposed. I told him to suck it. And he said no way - who knows where my butt has been. Regardless, I sit. Hovering is too much of a hassle and I can't ever reach my full pee-ing potential when I hover. So, due to my desire to sit, when looking for a toilet to use in a bank of stalls, I will enter each one until I find one sans splatterings. If I can't find that, then I will either, depending on the amount of splatterings, A.) wipe the seat and then sit or B.) hover. In Canada, there was never once a toilet worthy of me sitting on it, nor was there a toilet semi-clean enough for me to wipe it off and then sit. Everyone apparently hovers and everyone is apparently very messy about it. They never had anyone write, "If you sprinkle when you tinkle, be a sweety and wipe the seaty" in their yearbooks. My quads are tired.

#2. The Mason-Dixon line.
I've never been north of it...and now I know why. My parents were afraid that if I grew up in that kind of environment i would be even more hostile than I currently am. Who knows what could have happened. Tommy and I spent the days in Toronto walking around and enjoying the city - what I found bizarre is how NO ONE opens doors for each other, no one steps out of the path of another person and people just generally crash into each other with reckless abandon. On commenting to Tommy about this, his response was, "Welcome to North of the Mason-Dixon line". Well said, sir.

#3. Where are the non-asian/indian people?
'Cause they are NOT north of the mason-Dixon line. No wonder the Loonie is soaring...

#4. Tourists.
I hate tourist attractions as much as the next guy, but there are certain things you just HAVE to do. The Maid of the Mist, for example. If you are in Niagara, you must do this tour. It was amazing, by the way, and I fully recommend it. But the tourists make me crazy. They have no regard at all for personal space and they really think that by leaning 3 inches closer to the falls (over my shoulder of course) will make their pictures turn out that much better. It's a digital camera man - zoom. And really, when you are going to watch that 30 minutes video you took of the falls again? Never. You will accidentally tape So You Think You Can Dance over it next week, but because it is labeled "Niagara Falls 2007" you will never use it again.

#5. The squirrels in Canada are black. Not brown.

But seriously, the trip was a blast - Niagara is TOTALLY worth seeing and something everyone needs to do in their lifetime. Unfortunately, there isn't anything else to do in the city, so it's really just a day trip kind of place. Toronto was okay - no need to revisit. Their newspaper DOES have a huge sudoku that entertained me for approximately 2 hours though, so it wasn't a total wash.

Pictures will be included as soon as I charge the battery enough to get them off the camera.

Okay, I have enough battery now, so here are the pics:

Our second night in town, we got dressed up for a nice sushi dinner and check out the CN Tower.

TB and I with the CN Tower replica. It is about 1,460 feet taller than this.

TB being eaten by a Canadian Moose.

In this tour we learned all about meese avoidance techniques.

My dress was fun to spin in.

We followed this woman around for awhile trying to get a good picture, but this was the best I could do. Just imagine a large bowl of cottage cheese trapped in cellophane and you might be able to grasp the pain we endured.

This starts the Niagara Falls series. This is Tommy doing something I have no recollection of, seeing as how I had at least 17 beers while we played cards at a picnic table overlooking the falls.

View from our hotel room - Horseshoe Falls from the Canadian side. Amazing!

Never before have I actually seen pants like this in a store. Where in the hell does one buy pants like this?

Obligatory Maid of the Mist Poncho pic.

This child fashioned a skirt out of his poncho. I would say that the odds of him turning out to be straight at slim.

So sum up my anger on this day, view the email exchange from Tommy and I shown here. Some background:

• Aetna is my medical insurance provider - they suck for not being able to actually fill precriptions.
• Celso Garcia is our new ADT security salesman - he sucks for being a totally incompetent at what he does.
• Burnie is the man who broke into our house (his name has been changed due to a lack of actually knowing his name) - he sucks because he is he broke into our house without my permission.
• Cats are evil.
• Velveeta cheese is wrong. American cheese is also wrong. Bleu and feta tie in their wrongness.
• Karl is my creepy old landlord who came into my house and rearranged my furniture.
• Ralph (Perez) is my other creepy landlord who bathes at BurgerKing and thinks that 'debris' is spelled 'dupree'. He is just an effing idiot.
• Toyotaman is the Toyota dealership that is changing the locks on Tommy's car - they have to order parts from Nigeria and have slaves strap the pieces to their backs and swim through the gulf to bring them here. It is estimated to take 4 weeks.

-----Original Message-----
From: Tommy tommy@home.com
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 3:14 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension

Not cats? And velveeta?


-----Original Message-----
From: "Christy (CM)" christy@work.com
Date: Wed, 18 Jul 2007 16:02:59
To:Tommy tommy@home.com
Subject: RE: pension

Oh, and also my old landlord Karl. And Aetna. And mosquitos and bug repellant.

Christy

----------------
From: Tommy tommy@home.com
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 3:00 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension

Hahahaha. That's so much hate!

On 7/18/07, Christy (CM) Christy@work.com wrote:

Awesome. I hate Toyota and Allstate and Celso. And Ralph. And Liberty Mutual and Burnie. And all customer service people.
Christy

----------------
From: Tommy [mailto:tommy@homte.com]
Sent: Wednesday, July 18, 2007 2:34 PM
To: Christy (CM)
Subject: Re: pension

No word from Celso. And the effers already have taken my car apart, just waiting on the one part to come in. So I cant cancel. Toyotaman is checking status and calling me back.

On 7/18/07, Christy (CM) mailto:Christy@work.comwrote:
silly. I hate it. you know what else I hate? Celso Garcia's and Allstates. Did you ever hear back from Celso?

Christy

Sorry. I'm sorry. Seriously. I'm sorry.

Why must you keep nagging me?

It has been brought to my attention (again) that since I started dating the wonderful TommyB, that my level of funniness has decreased dramatically. This is true. I waste all the funny on him so he won't break up with me. Therefore, I have very little funny left to share with my pals. Sorry. I'm apologizing (again).

Despite the relationship I have with Mr. TommyB, funny things still happen to me, I just tell them to him when he gets home instead of writing them down for you. I'll work on it.

Today I will relate the story of the vultures in my office...

I am the party planner at work (not to sound cocky - I DO have a team that helps me, I am just the head party planner). I plan the office picnics, the ice cream socials, and the pizza parties. Yesterday, I hosted the office pizza party. Now, bear in mind that this party is nothing special...we just wanted to buy everyone a cheap easy lunch. We held it in the cafeteria, the cafeteria provided the pizza and we played Shrek on the overhead projectors. It was not intended to be a huge formal extravaganza.

Now, this story is many-fold, but I will stick to two main points: #1. The people in my office are obviously poor and starving. #2. The people in my office have no sense of proper decorum and thankfulness.

To address problem #1: It was a pizza party. We bought enough pizza for everyone in the building (650 people) to have 2.5 slices. Some people will have 1, some people will have 4 - fair enough. We have some real teletubbies over here. But people were pissed off that they can't take a whole pizza home with them to feed their children. Pissed off. Like actually upset that they can't take a whole pizza home. Bear in mind that everyone (almost) in my office is an engineering type person who makes a healthy salary. There is no reason why they can't just go home and buy an effing pizza for dinner if they want one. Their children are not starving. There is also no reason to take 17 cokes back to your desk. Seriously man? I case of cokes is like $4. Are you REALLY that strapped for cash? Really? I think all the starving children in Africa actually work in my building.

And #2: The party was fron 11-12:30. The cafeteria was making almost 220 pizzas. No one could possibly expect ANY pizza joint to produce 220 pizzas and have them all the ready and hot at the same time. It would be impossible. But apparently the people in my office have had better luck at making 220 pizzas at once, because these pizzas were unacceptable. One woman showed up at 12:45 (15 minutes after the party had ended) and complained about the temperature of her pizza. There's a microwave you incompetent piece of crap.

There's my rant for the day. I'll see what else I can dig up for you...there were those old nasty women humping each other in Scottsdale, and Brutus the Gator I held in New Orleans...I'll see what I can do...

Sung to the tune of Paula Abdul's "Cold Hearted Snake" ...

"He's a one eyed snake...look into his eye..."

Hahahahahahahahaha.

Does he like me or not?

My friend Erik is very funny. What I can't figure out is if he really likes me and wants me to enjoy his laughter or he actually despises me and wants me to die and be miserable. Because we have been friends for quite awhile now, I am going to assume that he doesn't hate me, but it's questionable.

In the mail yesterday, I recieved a note from Erik and a cutout from a magazine. The note said something like this: "I saw this and thought of you. If it weren't so completely useless and I weren't so cheap I would buy it for you." The magazine cutout was of a Cat Lady Figurine. And no, I don't mean CatWoman from Batman. I mean, like a creepy a cat lady who is old and dirty and has lots of cats. The cat lady stands at 7" tall, comes with 6 separate cats to place strategically around her, and 2 cats that protrude from her nappy hair and pant leg.

Via email yesterday, Erik sent me this: "I saw this. I laughed a lot. Then I thought you might like it. I ate a Nutri Grain this morning, and somehow... it didn't have quite the same effect." http://youtube.com/watch?v=XbFLhbJRt_E

Either Erik likes me or hates me. It's all up in the air right now.

I NEED a catlady figurine. Need it.

Josh is funny.

I hope he doesn't mind that I am stealing his 'notes' from Facebook, but who cares.

Displaying all 5 notes by Joshua.

On the subject of subjugation
by Joshua (notes) 9:05am Thursday, Oct 26
According to facebook, I can't be in a relationship with myself. This is horse shit. I mean, I'm with myself every day, and I know myself better than anyone. I can't break up with myself just because facebook doesn't approve of our relationship. What am I going to tell myself when I ask myself why I'm not in mentioned in the relationship status? Am I hiding something from myself?

The New Style
by Joshua (notes) 10:53am Saturday, Oct 21
This new trend of women wearing tights is ridicolous. They're not hip. They don't look sexy. And oversized sunglasses aren't appealing either. So cut it out already.

On the subject of Communists
by Joshua (notes) 1:39pm Thursday, Oct 19
We should feed North Korea to China.

On the subject of objective thinking
by Joshua (notes) 5:20pm Tuesday, Oct 10
Well, I failed my math test. I've been failing math tests since math tests and I ever met. I mean, simple multiplication, addition, subtraction, and division are simple. But algebra, MOSTLY algebra, doesn't make any sense to me. The introduction of imaginary numbers is absolutely puzzling. It's like introducing an imaginary wallet into an equation when I have to pay. It's neither here nor there. It's just a waste of time. It's entirely too two dimensional. Not to play on words, but criminy. So, I guess I'll study hard for the next three tests, and with any luck, I'll finish the last math class of my life with a 70. If not, don't be surprised to hear about some arson on the local news. I won't burn anything useful. Just maybe a couple city halls or a mall.

R.E.S.P.E.C.T.

I have no respect for myself or the ones that I care about.


Apparently.

This is just before Don won the 8 mile Turkey Trot in Dallas. He came in first place of the dogs**!!

**This information has not been independently verified. We just told him that to make him feel better. But no dogs passed us and we couldn't see any other dogs in front of us, so it can only be assumed that out of 30,000 people, my dog was the fastest.

Tommy said...

"You can be classy, conservative AND have a dick in your mouth at the same time." In reference to the slutty virgin on The Bachelor.

"Friends don't let friends have lonely assholes." In reference to his gay lover.

Puerto Vallarta.

TommyB took me on a romantic ghetto-way to Puerto Vallarta last week. I have included some of the better pictures...

These 2 fellas thought these shoes were cool. So did Tommy.

This bread - yes bread, not a cookie - was in the shape of a pig...well, it was before TB ate his butt.

If you look closely, you will notice the 2 men holding hands. One of these men has on extremely short shorts and Tevas with socks...I think the other man may be Tommy. Ha.

You just never know when you might need 13 Dominoes delivery drivers...

More lovely pictures will be added as soon as I can bring myself to upload them. On a serious note though, the trip was amazing and I may very well be the luckiest girl in the whole world. Everybody should give TB a hug today - he deserves it!

And just for grins - you can watch Faith Hill NOt win Artist of the Year here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kyZRiEJnIag

The Ghet-tooooo...

One of my favorite things about living in the ghetto is that regardless of day or type of weather, you can always find an ice cream truck driving down the street. The ice cream truck comes EVERY SINGLE DAY. Every day. Seriously. The first time I heard the truck, I got so excited that I locked myself out of my house. Now, when I hear the 'do your ears hang low...' song, I generally wish I could slam my head in the sliding door of the ice cream truck.

Sometimes though, it gets evern ghetto-er and the truck doesn't come, but don't you worry, the people in the ghetto still need their ice cream...they hire an ice cream bike. Same concept, just with a bike...it has a little cooler trailer behind it. Not as much music, but I am pretty sure he has a horn.

I mean, I like ice cream as much as the next guy, but how many popsicles in the shape of Mickey's head can you really eat in a week? If you asked the people on my street, they would say at least 7.

Viva la ice cream truck.

The Classics.

This may be the funniest, most creepy, slightly disturbing thing I have seen in awhile. Enjoy - http://www.bikerfox.com/foxphotos2/ The BikerFox won't let you down. You wish that he would, but he never does.

The Highlight.

This weekend was Wehner Weekend IV - where my first fish camp gathers each year in October to reminisce about the days of old. Very similar to Muster, just without the candles and the addition of a few beers.

We drank, we bowled, we drank, we danced, we played 42, we drank.

On Friday night, Tommy became enraged with a deer head that he knocked from the wall. The deer fell off the wall, his antler tore a hole in TB's shirt, cut his back and fell to the floor to amputate one of his antlers. The deer is only half as deerly as he was before. Tommy's response to the situation was, "That deer is an asshole". He didn't quite seem to grasp the fact that inanimate objects can't be assholes.


Of course, he doesn't remember any of this.

Training.

I spent my day in training (well, my whole week actually) and today we practiced using a tool called JMP (pronounced JUMP). It's good fun. It's a statistical tool that allows people are unfunny to remain unfunny. Statisticians, while rich, are never funny. Ever. Especially today.

JMP is a tool that will let you evaluate lots and lots of data at once - very similar to excel, but much harder to use. Well, similar to Excel, when you input data it spits out a graph...sometimes. The difference is, when JMP spits out a graph, the instructor calls it 'eye candy'.

Yes, eye candy. Like a hot chick (or dude). My statistician teacher man was referring to graphs and charts as eye candy. That's just wrong.

We took a tally. He said eye candy in reference to a graph 7 times in an hour long module. There is nothing right about that.

And you wonder why I drink.

Kate Goes to the Movies and other mildly funny stories...

"I went to the movies on Friday night with Keith—we saw The Departed—it was GREAT! To top it all off, there was a man in the theater who may have had some mild form of Turret’s Syndrome. Whenever he sneezed (the count got up to 4), and mind you, it was the loudest sneeze that you’ve ever heard, he’ yell, at the top of his lungs, ‘f-you’. It was hysterical!!!!"

Awesome.

Yesterday at the park, me and TB were playing with the Don. We saw an older couple cuddling on the other side of the park. It was cute. Then the man mounted the woman. That's not cute. It's just inappropriate. And then he started taking off her shirt. Of course the shirt never came all the way off and of course it wasn't a man. It was 2 chicks. Humping at the dog park. And no, they weren't hot. I mean, we thought one of them was a man for awhile. Don wasn't scared of either of them, so we knew they couldn't be men. Ha.

Sweet.

I am watching The Bachelor right now and there is a chick on here with exceptionally pouty lips. There is no way in hell those lips are natural. It makes me uncomfortable just looking at her. Apparently her name is Gina and she accepts the rose. Stupid fat lips.

Blah.

I just don't have time for the blogging. I am sorry. Lots of funny things happened today on the way to the forum though. I'll try and remember them.

Debil Cats.


Now you understand my fear of cats, right? That cat is TOTALLY going to claw my eyes out.

3 posts in one day should get me off your sh!t lists until at least 2007.

Bad Blogger.

I'm sorry that I am such a bad blogger, but life is busy. Do you want me to come out and drink beers with you? Or sit at home and think of funny stuff to blog about?

This blog will discuss the differences in bread and bread by-products.

Bread comes in loaves. Bread by-products do not. Bread by-products come in noodle, crust, and chip form. Bread by-products MAY be slathered in cheese of any sort - preferably cheddar. Bread may NOT be slathered in cheese of any sort, especially American.

American cheese should be outlawed by the American government. I have never been so ashamed of the country in which I live as when I am forced to smell the rankness of American cheese. American cheese is wrong. American cheese = communism.

Other cheeses that are wrong: anything that crumbles under the weight of a feather. This includes several types, but namely, bleu and feta. Bleu and feta cheeses are wrong. Cheese should not feel like corn poop in your mouth (cottage cheese is also wrong for this reason). Cheese should be hard and/or gooey, but never EVER crumbly. EVER. If you can't spear it with a fork then you shouldn't eat it. If God wanted you to eat it, he would have made it spear-able.

Grilled cheese sandwiches are wrong. Cheeseburgers are wrong. Egg and cheese biscuits are wrong. Any type of casserole where cheese is melted on rice is wrong.

Cheese on noodles is right. Cheese on pizza is right. Cheese on chips is right. Any type of non- crumbly/non-American type of cheese is right.



Go forth now and spread this knowledge to your people. Thanks be to me for this message.

Donuts. My one true love.

Apparently sales at Krispy Kreme have drastically declined since I took my No Donuts Vow on December 19, 2005. I have not consumed a donut since December 19, 2005. Let me clarify: I have not consumed a DONUT since December 19, 2005. This does not include all food stuffs purchased from ye olde donut shoppe. Kolaches are not donuts. Muffins are not donuts. Bagels are not donuts. Donuts are donuts. If it isn't actually CALLED a donut, it isn't a donut and therefore, I still eat it. Unless it is bread covered in cheese.

News article:

Krispy Kreme Sees Decline in Sales

WINSTON-SALEM, N.C. (AP) - Krispy Kreme Doughnuts said Monday it expects to report a loss for the second quarter and predicted a $30 million decline in revenue for the period because it has fewer company-owned stores.
The company's announcement said it expects revenue in the quarter to drop from $140 million last year to $110 million this year. Systemwide, sales fell about 15 percent, the company said.
The company also said its financial results continue to be adversely affected by legal and regulatory costs.
Despite the gloomy results, company Chief Executive Daryl Brewster said Krispy Kreme was making progress.
"In the United States, we saw signs of stability in company stores as evidenced by average weekly sales trends," Brewster said. "We also advanced our international expansion plans with the signing of franchisees in six new markets."

You whiners.

Yes, I have gotten a few complaints about my lack-o-blogging. I am sorry. But don't you worry...my life still sucks, I just haven't had time to write about it.

And I think my friends are busy too because they have failed to entertain me with their humor. You guys suck.

So basically, my life is busy and I don't have time for any fun and all my friends are boring wads of paper. Great.

I DO have funny stories from Vegas, but I can't write about them...email me and I will fill you in. Ha. Hahaha.

Now I am off to an emergency meeting with my boss. That's NEVER good.

Hugs and kisses to all my fans out there.

Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Bad things come in 3's. By 8am, I was 2/3 of the way through my bad karma.

I had fantastic intentions of getting to work at 6am this morning - I really wanted to get out early so I could shop for sparkly shirts to wear in Vegas before my haircut. Unfortunately, my plans were dashed by my burnt out fuel level indicator light. I ran out of gas at 5:45 this morning. "Luckily", I was cresting a hill at the point of empty and was able to cruise the rest of the way down the street and across the highway.

I was able to turn the corner, at which point I jumped out of the jeep and began to push my car the 100 yards uphill to the Valero station. Lovely. Bear in mind, this is Houston and the humidity level is at 100% and it was 6am so the dew was still stagnating in the air. I was unable to get the car close enough to the pump, so I had to buy a gas can. Me and 3 other men were unable to figure out how to use the new fangled gas can, so I just poured the gas in the tank...this resulted in my hands also being covered in gas.

I get enough gas in the car to pull up to the pump and save what is left of my outfit and smelly hands. I fill up, blah blah blah. Go home, change, dry my hair, redo my makeup...still can't get the gas smell off my hands. Go to work - I finally arrive at 7am. So much for sparkly clothes shopping. I wash my hands for the 13th time. Still can't get the smell off.

Me and my smelly hands ( I can smell them right now) go down to get breakfast. On the way, someone decided to slam my foot in the door. Really hard. So hard that we may have to do surgery here at work today. It tore the leather up on my shoes. Bad news. (fyi-that's the second bad thing that happened). Then I tried to eat my grapes, but my hands smell so bad I was totally grossed out. This could be pivotal in my dieting plan.

Nature is out to get me. I hate today. I'm just waiting for the third thing to happen. I will probably slip and fall down the stairs and break my face or something. Lovely.

Karma is paying me back for something...I need to figure out who I pissed off!!