blue girl

Laugh With Me, Not At Me. C'mon Make Me Smile.

Updated below with some Flat Stanleys!

Hee-hee-hee.

When something tickles my funnybone in the blogosphere, I'll leave a hee-hee-hee comment.  For some reason I've decided that three "hees" are the perfect amount of "hees."  Others may feel two "hees" would be perfectly fine.  But I tend to be gabby, hence, I'm sticking with three.

I've never tee-hee'd in a comment thread.  And I've never hee-hee-hee'd in my whole real life.

When I was a kid people described my laugh like a machine gun or woody woodpecker.  How sad!  But, over the years that description has changed.

When I get together with my best friend (we normally don't see each other for years at a time), within 15 minutes she'll say, "There's the cackle!"

What an unfortunate description.  Dictionary.com defines cackle:

To make the shrill cry characteristic of a hen after laying an egg.

Don't laugh!

If it wasn't one of my defining characteristics that my friends seem to enjoy about me, the whole thought of it would make me cry.  And that's another thing.  My cackle tends to morph quickly into silent laughter as tears flow down my face.

On Saturday night I got together with a group of girls I used to work with.  And within 15 minutes I'm running around my friend's kitchen trying to find a tissue. 

Had to do with a story about something called a Slap Stanley.  Thank God for waterproof mascara.

I just got an email from one of the girls I saw Saturday night.  She's single and we talked her into posting a profile on an Internet dating site.  So, she wrote to give me an update.

Isn't it funny that we don't see each other for years but when we get together it's like right where we left off?  I miss your laugh.

Maybe this Internet site thing will work.  Maybe I'll meet Mr. Right instead of Mr. Asshole, Mr. Right Now or Mr. Me Me Me, It's All About Me!!

I just love her sense of humor.  She's the best.  Hee-hee-hee.

*****

Updated:  I've been corrected.  It's not a Slap Stanley.  It's a Flat Stanley.  From the cryptic information I've received about this Flat Stanely fellow, I think this is what it is.  A child sends you a "Flat Whatever" -- If the child's name is "Joe," they would send you a Flat Joe.  In this case my friend received this from a child named Stanley.

The person who receives it has to take it around and photograph it in different places and then write a report about it and return the photos and report to the child.

Here's Flat Stanley at a Japanese restaurant, Whetstone Park, a landmark in Upper Arlington and an Ad Agency. 

My friend said she can't wait to get rid of him.  I have no idea why!  Seeing she has three kids under the age of 5!  What else does she have to do? Hee-hee-hee.

Just Eating Lunch Trying To Figure Out Who I Am

And this is what I found out:

Your #1 Match: ENTP

The Visionary

You are charming, outgoing, friendly. You make a good first impression.

You possess good negotiating skills and can convince anyone of anything.

Happy to be the center of attention, you love to tell stories and show off.

You're very clever, but not disciplined enough to do well in structured environments.

You would make a great entrpreneur, marketing executive, or actor.

and also:

Your #2 Match: ESTP

The Doer

You are adventurous and risk taking. You act first, think second.

You love being the center of attention. Chances are you were the class clown.

Competitive, charming, and charasmatic - you have your own code of honor.

You live a flexible life, bouncing between a series of activies that interest you.

You would make a great salesperson, marketing director, or entrepreneur.

***

Currently listening to:

One Of These Things First by Nick Drake
Garden State Soundtrack

I could have been a sailor, could have been a cook
A real live lover, could have been a book.
I could have been a signpost, could have been a clock
As simple as a kettle, steady as a rock.
I could be
Here and now
I would be, I should be
But how?
I could have been
One of these things first
I could have been
One of these things first.

Please note the header design on Zach Braff's Garden State Blog.  I wonder if Zach would think I'm competitive or charming?  Hmmm.  I think he and I would get along just fine.

Who are you?  And do you think you could hang with me and Zach?

(h/t to Rana)

Because People Have Said That I Look A Little Like Stevie Nicks, Plus I Drive A Volvo

I may be a little biased, but I love this post by Brando at Circle Jerk At The Square Dance.

I Know Why You're Here . . .

I know what you've been doing . . . why you hardly sleep, why you live alone, and why night after night, you sit by your computer. You're looking for him. I know because I was once looking for the same thing. And when he found me, he told me I wasn't really looking for him. I was looking for an answer. It's the question that drives us, Neo. It's the question that brought you here.

Ok, blue girl readers -- this new design kind of sets a brand new tone, huh?  Is it too Matrixy?

Let me know and make sure you always remember...

Do not try and bend the spoon. That's impossible. Instead . . . only try to realize the truth.

You Had To Be There

For all of you who weren't, feel perfectly free to ignore...

Shut up, Senior Vice President Art Director of the Global Atmoshphere ... I will not get in the hot tub with you...

I may be laughing on the outside, but I'm crying on the inside....

Don't you think I could have my own TV show?  I think I could...

I could totally have my own TV show.

Yep.  She's gonna kill us.

All these photos are from almost twelve years ago.  Can you imagine?

Sure, We'll Be Discussing The Great Issues Of The Day

I'm getting together with my girls Saturday night!  Yippie-yi-yo-yi-a!  Not that I remember exactly, but it's been a several years since we've seen each other.  We used to work together.  And oh my God, we had ... The. Best. Time.  Back then, we were saving the world.  One industrial catalog at a time.  Yes, we were the invaluable cogs in the capitalistic wheel, making construction workers across this country bow before us as their jobs were so much easier as they kept our work in their back pockets out in the field.

Meet the Account Rep, the Production Manager, the Typesetter, the Production Artist, the Traffic Manager/Proofreader, and the Media Buyer.
Also pictured here is the Accounting Supervisor, the Receptionist and another Account Rep.

These three will not be joining us Saturday night as they could be mean.  Suffice it to say that I was never the favorite of any of these three.  Never understood why.  I mean, what's the big deal about turning in time sheets 3 months late and never letting the receptionist know you're leaving the office?  Life's too short for silly rules.  I'm a rebel.

Not pictured here is the Illustrator, who now lives in Kentucky, who we will miss terribly.  Being the tough one of the bunch, she's gonna kick our collective asses when she finds out we're getting together.

With permission from my girls, I'm posting the emails that have been flying back and forth all week in anticipation of our reunion.  Of course, being the Queen Instigator, I started it off:

Me:  I can't wait to see all of you.  You haven't seen me in awhile.  What if you're all horrified by how I've aged?

Production Artist:  YOU!!  I'm the size of Mount Everest!!  And, get this, I turn 40 this year!!  What the hell is that???

Typesetter:  Will you shut up!  You're absolutely gorgeous!  Just saw my MD and I gained 25 lbs. in the past 2 years -- top that!

Production Mgr:  Don't feel bad -- my life has been the same for 7 years.  Ever see the movie Groundhog Day??

Production Artist:  That makes me feel better!  Send me the link to your blog.

Typesetter:  What shall I bring other than a bottle of wine -- snack, dessert?

Traffic Mgr/Proofreader:  Ok, I'm up 10 lbs and need a facelift.  Happy?

Me:  Yes, Mrs. Traffic Mgr/Proofreader -- what should we bring?  A big bottle of champagne and double-dark-chocolate fudge cake?????

Traffic Mgr/Proofreader:  Bring whatever -- I don't care if it's Ding Dongs and Twinkies!  I just want to see you all!

Me:  You guys, go read my blog today.

Typesetter:  I was just there???

Me:  I haven't written about us yet.

Typesetter:  Naked Day at work?  No one could pay me enough!!!!!  Loved the "Who's your daddy now Tanith"!!!!!!

Production Mgr:  I thought Naked Day at work was funny.  I could just picture your conversation with blue guy!  And then I thought about Naked Day here at work and wanted to throw up.  Is that you in the photo?  You look a supermodel!

Traffic Mgr/Proofreader:  You too crack me up.

Me:  Mrs. Proofreader!!!  Duh!!!

Me: I'll bring the Twinkies, cuz the Ding Dongs'll already be there!

***

Ahhhh.  We're so deep and funny.

So, if I don't blog on Sunday you'll know that I may not be feeling well.  I've got a feeling I'm gonna load up on the Ding Dong's Saturday night.

I'll Be The Judge Of That

My husband and I own our own little ad agency and we work from home.

We're getting our day started this morning and he walks into my office...

"Hey, I've got a really good idea.  We should have Naked Day.  There should be days when we work naked all day."

/silence

"What?!"

"Were you watching ice dancing again last night?"

"Yeah. She should work naked, too."
"Like she isn't half naked already! Stop ogling her. You could be her dad."

"Oooh, yeah.  Who's your daddy, Tanith?"

So, don't you think that's a good idea?  Naked Day, at blue girl marketing?"

"Ok, here's the deal. The day you learn to toss me up over your head, while on ice skates and spin me around in a triple tow-cow, or whatever it's called...when you learn how to do that...then I'll consider having Naked Day at work.  Hey, no offense, but we've got a deadline!"

"Yeah, back to the old routine."

Frustration

If I had a shiny gun,
I could have a world of fun
Speeding bullets through the brains
Of the folk who give me pains;

Or had I some poison gas,
I could make the moments pass
Bumping off a number of
People whom I do not love.

But I have no lethal weapon-
Thus does Fate our pleasure step on!
So they still are quick and well
Who should be, by rights, in hell.

         --Dorothy Parker

Weird, Like Me

Seems like lots of bloggers are in the mood to let everyone know how weird they can be.  Like we didn't already know.  I think it's why a lot of bloggers blog.  There's a certain weird element to certain kinds of people that real-life people don't get.  And I've noticed that when you admit to some crazy things, most blogger people don't care.  If they don't come right out and say, "Yeah!  I can totally relate!" all they'll do is make fun of you in the comment thread.  And you can delete that.  Real life people may consider dialing 911.  Or at least that's the feeling you get sometimes.

So, in the spirit of weirdness this President's Day -- after all, George W. Bush being President in real-life is one of the weirdest things I know of -- Hey, I just had a weird thought.  Calling 911 on President's Day to report that George W. Bush is President. 

We have an emergency!  For the love of God, send help!  Hurry!  Before everyone dies!  I can't breathe!  Help!  Heeeeelllllllllp me!  I can't make it much longer!

I offer up some of the weird things I can be guilty of doing.

Sometimes when I'm running errands and I notice that there's someone behind me that I know, I'll use the wrong turn signal at every turn just to mess with them.  If I'm turning right, I'll flip on my left turn signal.  If I'm turning left, I'll flip on my right.  Once, my friend and I ended up at the same grocery store and she was like, "I think something's wrong with your car!  Your turn signals are working opposite!"  And I'm like, "Really?  That's weird!  I'll have to get that checked." 

Most times the person and I don't end up at the same place.  And it kind of cracks me up to think that they might be thinking about it.  And they'll.  never.  know.

When my son and his friends were younger and they would all be over at our house just hanging out, I would put one of my old CDs on and tell them that if someone could name the singer of the song, I would give that person $100.  Oooh, boy.  You should've seen those little eyes light up every time I made that offer.  Especially the first time.  They were going to be rich!

So, the first time I did it, I put on "Cant Find My Way Home" by Blind Faith.

All those little faces, eyes all squinted up, were seriously trying to figure out who the singer was. 

"Is it a girl??!  Sounds like a girl!  Madonna!"

"It's not a girl!  Jeez."

"Justin Timberlake!"

"What??!!  Do you really think I'd own a Justin Timberlake CD?  C'mon, give me some credit!"

"Backstreet Boys!"

"Behave children or I'm going to ground you!"

My son began really pondering all the music I've talked to him about over the years...

"Elton John!"

"Steely Dan!"

"The Beatles!"

"No.  No.  No."

"David Bowie!"

His friend looked at me and zeroed in on my crow's feet...

"Frank Sinatra!"

"Ha-ha-ha!"

"Elvis Presley!"

"Boy, you guys sure are out of the loop when it comes to good music from when I was your age."

"Aerosmith!"

"Now, does this sound like Aerosmith?"

"John Lennon!"

And as the song ended one boy yells out..."Josh Groden!"

"Oh well, guys.  No winner today.  You all need to polish up on your psychedelic music.  Luckily you've got plenty of time."

"Well, who was it?"

"Steve Winwood, duh!"

My son rolls his eyes.  His friend, pouting, hits his knee with his fist, "Darn it all."

"You guys need to lay off the MTV and start watching more VH1."

I will go out driving just so I can sing.  I'll gather up a few CDs that I haven't played in awhile and head out on the open road.  I know it's irresponsible.  I know I'm helping to make the ice caps melt at a faster rate just so I can have some alone time, singing at the top of my lungs.  I can be just as American as the next guy, so sue me.

We're surrounded by the Metroparks here in Cuyahoga County.  And I can drive though the park without anyone bugging me.  No one behind me -- no one in front of me ruining my little concert.

One day last week I had to pick my son up from school.  It was very spring-like that day, so I left a half hour early.  I knew I had some good CDs in the car.  I was set.

I drove and drove and then had to head back into town to get my son.  I flipped off the CD player and flipped on the radio.  "Sister Golden Hair" had just started.  I hadn't heard that one in a long time and turned it up really loud and began to sing.  There was traffic all around me, but I didn't care.  I can be weird that way...

Well I tried to make it Sunday
But I got so damn depressed
That I set my sights on Monday
And I got myself undressed
Well, I ain't ready for the alter
But I do agree there's times
When a woman sure can be a friend of mine

I was driving and thinking that this song sounds a lot like the Eagles and the guitar sounds strangely like George Harrison.  I pulled up to the main intersection in town and stopped at a light.  And I continued singing...

Well I keep on thinkin' 'bout you
Sister Golden Hair surprise
And I just can't live without you
Can't you see it in my eyes?
Well, I've been one poor correspondent
And I've been too, too hard to find
But it doesn't mean
You ain't been on my mind

Just then, I look to my right and there's a guy about my age in the car next to me, singing at me!  I did a double take, he didn't stop -- he continued singing...

Will you meet me in the middle?
Will you meet me in the end?
Will you love me just a little
Just enough to show you care?

I smiled at him and he got somewhat dramatic with his hand gestures...

Well I tried to fake it
I don't mind sayin'
I just can't make it

And as he began his "Doo-whop-a-doo whops," I flashed him the peace sign, flipped on my right turn signal and made a left hand turn.

Being weird can pay off sometimes.

Beware Ladders and Lightning

I like this Bob Cesca guy:

...I neglected to note the first attack on the World Trade Center in 1993. However, we weren't attacked for a span of eight years -- the entire Clinton administration. We went without an attack for eight years under a democratic president. Shock horror! Bottom line, Bush resisted the creation of Homeland Security (a Clinton administration idea) and he stonewalled the 9/11 Commission and continues to ignore its recommendations. And you feel safer under this guy?

Besides, according to Foreign Policy magazine, your odds of dying in a terrorist attack on American soil are 1 in 88,000. According to the same study, you're more likely to die from a fall off a ladder than you are from a terrorist attack.

A Live Science study concluded you're more likely to be struck by lightning (1 in 83,930) or legally executed (1 in 58,618). Your odds of committing suicide are 1 in 121. You're more likely to kill yourself than to be killed by a terrorist! Cancer is the second deadliest threat to you, yet Bush/Cheney has relaxed rules against spewing cancer-causing chemicals into your air and water.

So based on the odds, where the shit is the Global War on Ladders and Lightning?

But okay -- if you want to be so easily and hysterically frightened just because Bush and Cheney say so... enjoy! Just keep your fear to yourself and leave everyone else's civil liberties alone.

***

Our odds of being legally executed -- 1 in 58,618?  Isn't that scary?