Friday nights are great for perusing online automotive sites..... Should I buy the glove compartment organizer for my PERFECT, hip little bulldog of a convertible race car? I'm thinking yes, considering my anal retentive tendencies. What about the super-convenient catchall cargo net for the microscopically cute li'l trunk?
Did you notice I said 'perfect' in the previous paragraph? I went online again after uploading the last mm post, and this time found the exact same car that was sittin' on Laurens Road.....but it was automatic. It was in Maryland, but if I paid Carmax $250, they'd plop it on a truck and send it to me. So on Monday, September 8, I gave 'em my credit card info to set the deal in motion. By the following Monday evening, the pretty little Mini was mine.
Turned out to be the best decision I could've made! I get a HUGE dopey grin on my face every time I sit behind the wheel. :D Ahhhhh..... motoring joy!
Are you disappointed that I didn't get the stick? Maybe this'll raise me a notch in your esteem -- the one I bought does have a manual/sport mode....and something called Steptronic (scroll down on this page for more info, if you're interested). I'm not sure how to operate it yet, or why I would want to, but it sounds impressive in the manufacturer's manual and some web pages I've found. Fast acceleration and mountain driving are mentioned, so I anticipate becoming quite intimate with it eventually.....
Friday, September 19, 2008
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Neverdone #8 :: Workin' the stick, baby
I got a crash course this weekend in driving a stick shift! Whoo hoooooo!
Yesterday afternoon, I found myself sitting in the driver's seat of a small pickup truck, staring at the intimidating FOUR pedals near my feet. A friend's generous, patient, and knowledgeable brother G sat beside me.
Earlier that day, I'd done something I wish I hadn't. I'd read a how-to article and watched a YouTube video on how to drive a stick shift. It sounded way too complicated, which made me very nervous. But G made me feel better as he explained the theory of a manual transmission versus an automatic. It mostly made sense. The thing that stood out as the most practical bit o'knowledge was that pressing in the clutch allowed you to change gears.
Here we go
"Now," he said as we sat in his truck, "we're just going to go back and forth in the driveway first. Then we'll head out into the neighborhood."
Oh, he has no idea what he's gotten himself into, I thought to myself. Doesn't he know my synapses are not firing properly nowadays? Hasn't he ever heard that you can't teach an old dog new tricks?
"Put your right foot on the brake and your left on the clutch. Press both of them all the way in."
Yeah, OK. I can do that.
"Good, now let me watch as you go through the gears."
I do it. It's pretty easy to remember the locations, I thought.
"Great. Now put it in reverse, gradually ease up on the clutch, take your foot off the brake, and give it just a little gas. Then stop."
Oh good lord. He wants me to move it now. Take a deep breath. It'll be fine. Every single person you asked this weekend has told you it's easy, so there's no reason you can't do it, too. You're smart. You drove farm equipment when you were younger, right? Not exactly on a regular basis, but you did it.
Of course, it stalled on me the first time. And quite a bit thereafter. But we went through the driveway drills to his apparent satisfaction, because after a few minutes, he announced that I should back out of the driveway and go left.
Auuuuugh! Red light! Alarm! Danger! Code super-red!
"Um, do you promise that you have a very quiet, non-busy neighborhood?"
"Yep, you'll be fine. Let's go."
Deep breath. You'll be fine. Let's go.
And y'know what? I was fine. During the drive, G explained that it was pretty impossible for me to damage his truck -- or any vehicle -- while going through the typical learning motions. The types of damages I'd heard about in the past were usually the result of prolonged bad habits, not a stupidass girl-mistake during a single drive. I felt a lot better after that.
I did some things quite well, I think, because many times he said something like "beautiful....that was perfect." At one point he even said I was doing better than a lot of people on their first drives. And he liked that I stayed calm when I did make a mistake.
"Most beginners get in trouble on the road not because they can't drive. They wig out and get too upset," he said.
I handled my first hill without stalling and did an overall great job, G said, minimizing rollback on hills. At times I felt like I was really 'getting it.' I seemed to do much better when I wasn't thinking about it too hard.
Then....
Then came The Evil Stop Sign of Great Frustration and Torture.
In a pedicament
I'd stalled at many stop signs, but was usually able to get going again after a minor delay. I think I was letting the clutch out too quickly and giving it too much gas, at which time I did something -- not sure what -- which, in my head, might prevent a lurch. Well, at this one bedeviled stop sign, I could NOT get going again. Let's see if I can remember how many times I stalled by re-enacting my comments and expletives. To paint an accurate picture in your head, you'll need to imagine G snickering a little in the background. Then chortling. Then laughing.
"Well. There I go again." Restart. Stall.
"Crap." Restart. Stall.
"Dammit." Restart. Stall.
"Dammit, what am I doing wrong?" Restart. Stall.
"Dammit to hell!" Restart. Stall.
"Shit! I don't understand. What am I doing?" Restart. Stall.
"Fuck." Restart. Stall.
"Dammit to fucking hell." Restart. Stall.
"Motherfucker." Restart. Stall.
"Jesus!" Restart. Almost stall..... Damn. Stall.
"Goddammit, I don't get it!" Restart. Stall.
"Goddammit to motherfucking hell." Restart. Stall.
"Jesus motherfucking Christ." Restart. Almost stall.....
"Oh, no, the hell you don't!" Try to catch it.....sending a prayer to the manual transmission gods....
Yay, I finally made it happen!!! We were moving again.
Ending up all good
At the next stop sign, I spurned the brakes and only did a rolling stop because there was a family hanging out in a nearby yard. I refused to embarrass myself in front of actual people! I continued to practice my newfound rolling-stop talent until G made me stop again. Dammit. But I did that one OK, and no other frustration-filled, profanity-inducing stop signs presented themselves.
Another delay during the lesson involved a kid and his dog. No WAY was I going to get mobile again until both of them were far, far away from the truck. That wasn't a driving problem, though. Just an I-don't-want-to-kill-anyone thing.
Wondering why?
Want to know why I chose this weekend to learn to drive a stick? You see, my car died last week. I've been driving a rental since Wednesday, and am trying to make an informed, smart car-buying decision as quickly as possible. Saturday, I was enormously frustrated with the process when I ran across an online listing for the PERFECT little used Mini convertible, and it was sittin' pretty on the Laurens Road motor mile. I rushed to the lot without reading the fine print.
Turns out the car was perfect except that it had a manual transmission and I couldn't damn drive it.
I made a few venting phone calls, and to my surprise, several people said buy it anyway. A friend's sister learned how to drive her new car on the way home from the dealership. Another friend said he did the same thing when he bought his first car. Even my 83-year-old mom said driving a manual car was easy....."nothing to it!"
Hmmmm, so my quandary: should I spend thousands of dollars on a piece of equipment I don't really know how to operate?
I've come to a decision, I think, but there are still some things up in the air. I'm tired of writing right now, so stay tuned.
Hey. I just created a cliffhanger. :)
Yesterday afternoon, I found myself sitting in the driver's seat of a small pickup truck, staring at the intimidating FOUR pedals near my feet. A friend's generous, patient, and knowledgeable brother G sat beside me.
Earlier that day, I'd done something I wish I hadn't. I'd read a how-to article and watched a YouTube video on how to drive a stick shift. It sounded way too complicated, which made me very nervous. But G made me feel better as he explained the theory of a manual transmission versus an automatic. It mostly made sense. The thing that stood out as the most practical bit o'knowledge was that pressing in the clutch allowed you to change gears.
Here we go
"Now," he said as we sat in his truck, "we're just going to go back and forth in the driveway first. Then we'll head out into the neighborhood."
Oh, he has no idea what he's gotten himself into, I thought to myself. Doesn't he know my synapses are not firing properly nowadays? Hasn't he ever heard that you can't teach an old dog new tricks?
"Put your right foot on the brake and your left on the clutch. Press both of them all the way in."
Yeah, OK. I can do that.
"Good, now let me watch as you go through the gears."
I do it. It's pretty easy to remember the locations, I thought.
"Great. Now put it in reverse, gradually ease up on the clutch, take your foot off the brake, and give it just a little gas. Then stop."
Oh good lord. He wants me to move it now. Take a deep breath. It'll be fine. Every single person you asked this weekend has told you it's easy, so there's no reason you can't do it, too. You're smart. You drove farm equipment when you were younger, right? Not exactly on a regular basis, but you did it.
Of course, it stalled on me the first time. And quite a bit thereafter. But we went through the driveway drills to his apparent satisfaction, because after a few minutes, he announced that I should back out of the driveway and go left.
Auuuuugh! Red light! Alarm! Danger! Code super-red!
"Um, do you promise that you have a very quiet, non-busy neighborhood?"
"Yep, you'll be fine. Let's go."
Deep breath. You'll be fine. Let's go.
And y'know what? I was fine. During the drive, G explained that it was pretty impossible for me to damage his truck -- or any vehicle -- while going through the typical learning motions. The types of damages I'd heard about in the past were usually the result of prolonged bad habits, not a stupidass girl-mistake during a single drive. I felt a lot better after that.
I did some things quite well, I think, because many times he said something like "beautiful....that was perfect." At one point he even said I was doing better than a lot of people on their first drives. And he liked that I stayed calm when I did make a mistake.
"Most beginners get in trouble on the road not because they can't drive. They wig out and get too upset," he said.
I handled my first hill without stalling and did an overall great job, G said, minimizing rollback on hills. At times I felt like I was really 'getting it.' I seemed to do much better when I wasn't thinking about it too hard.
Then....
Then came The Evil Stop Sign of Great Frustration and Torture.
In a pedicament
I'd stalled at many stop signs, but was usually able to get going again after a minor delay. I think I was letting the clutch out too quickly and giving it too much gas, at which time I did something -- not sure what -- which, in my head, might prevent a lurch. Well, at this one bedeviled stop sign, I could NOT get going again. Let's see if I can remember how many times I stalled by re-enacting my comments and expletives. To paint an accurate picture in your head, you'll need to imagine G snickering a little in the background. Then chortling. Then laughing.
"Well. There I go again." Restart. Stall.
"Crap." Restart. Stall.
"Dammit." Restart. Stall.
"Dammit, what am I doing wrong?" Restart. Stall.
"Dammit to hell!" Restart. Stall.
"Shit! I don't understand. What am I doing?" Restart. Stall.
"Fuck." Restart. Stall.
"Dammit to fucking hell." Restart. Stall.
"Motherfucker." Restart. Stall.
"Jesus!" Restart. Almost stall..... Damn. Stall.
"Goddammit, I don't get it!" Restart. Stall.
"Goddammit to motherfucking hell." Restart. Stall.
"Jesus motherfucking Christ." Restart. Almost stall.....
"Oh, no, the hell you don't!" Try to catch it.....sending a prayer to the manual transmission gods....
Yay, I finally made it happen!!! We were moving again.
Ending up all good
At the next stop sign, I spurned the brakes and only did a rolling stop because there was a family hanging out in a nearby yard. I refused to embarrass myself in front of actual people! I continued to practice my newfound rolling-stop talent until G made me stop again. Dammit. But I did that one OK, and no other frustration-filled, profanity-inducing stop signs presented themselves.
Another delay during the lesson involved a kid and his dog. No WAY was I going to get mobile again until both of them were far, far away from the truck. That wasn't a driving problem, though. Just an I-don't-want-to-kill-anyone thing.
Wondering why?
Want to know why I chose this weekend to learn to drive a stick? You see, my car died last week. I've been driving a rental since Wednesday, and am trying to make an informed, smart car-buying decision as quickly as possible. Saturday, I was enormously frustrated with the process when I ran across an online listing for the PERFECT little used Mini convertible, and it was sittin' pretty on the Laurens Road motor mile. I rushed to the lot without reading the fine print.
Turns out the car was perfect except that it had a manual transmission and I couldn't damn drive it.
I made a few venting phone calls, and to my surprise, several people said buy it anyway. A friend's sister learned how to drive her new car on the way home from the dealership. Another friend said he did the same thing when he bought his first car. Even my 83-year-old mom said driving a manual car was easy....."nothing to it!"
Hmmmm, so my quandary: should I spend thousands of dollars on a piece of equipment I don't really know how to operate?
I've come to a decision, I think, but there are still some things up in the air. I'm tired of writing right now, so stay tuned.
Hey. I just created a cliffhanger. :)
Thursday, August 28, 2008
The fetal position, molasses, and temporary insanity
E-mails, e-mails. You never know which direction they'll turn....
X: Did you get a chance to see?
Me: Only a glance. I continued my trek to the bathroom and assumed the fetal position in the back stall.
X: Did you suck your thumb?
Me: Yeah. I wanted to suck my balls, but after fumbling around for a few minutes I remembered I don’t have any.
X: The bad thing about balls and the fetal position on the bathroom floor is that they (the balls) usually stick to the cold tile. Sucks!
Me: Do they have to be recently sucked in order for them to stick?
X: Oh no... They're usually sooo sweaty that they have the necessary moisture to stick to almost anything.
Me: How interesting. Would they stick to a banana?
X: They’d consume it! Especially with it's “blob-like” features during a thumb sucking moment like that... It’s all body temp.
Me: Yikes, they’d consume the banana? Peeling and all? Like Godzilla consumed Japan?
X: Like a slow-moving molasses.
Me: We should sic sweaty balls on all things we wish would disappear. There’s a painting I created 8 or so years ago as a group project with other artists.....it sucked, and I mean hard like a black hole. It is still hanging somewhere with my name on it. Could sweaty balls take care of it for me?
X: Like I said... It’s all about the body temp.
Me: Hmmmmm. Well, that’s about all the conversation I can eek out of sweaty balls. Got anything else to add?
X: Visuals and lab experiments?! Sorry, I’m not totally focused on balls right now. Have you asked others?
Me: No, I reserve sweaty-ball email conversations for you. Oh, wait....Y may have something to add. Y? (I cc'd Y)
X: Oh no you didn’t...?!!
Me: Hey, I’m stressed. It’s OK for stressed people to go a little insane. Perfectly acceptable. Right, Y? (I cc'd Y again)
Later....
Y: As a refined sophisticate, I only partake of perspiration-laced balls, which would never consider temporarily adhering themselves to a frigid surface (other than mine).
Followed by....
Y: As a refined sophisticate, I only go a little insane, which is perfectly acceptable as you so astutely note.
X: Did you get a chance to see?
Me: Only a glance. I continued my trek to the bathroom and assumed the fetal position in the back stall.
X: Did you suck your thumb?
Me: Yeah. I wanted to suck my balls, but after fumbling around for a few minutes I remembered I don’t have any.
X: The bad thing about balls and the fetal position on the bathroom floor is that they (the balls) usually stick to the cold tile. Sucks!
Me: Do they have to be recently sucked in order for them to stick?
X: Oh no... They're usually sooo sweaty that they have the necessary moisture to stick to almost anything.
Me: How interesting. Would they stick to a banana?
X: They’d consume it! Especially with it's “blob-like” features during a thumb sucking moment like that... It’s all body temp.
Me: Yikes, they’d consume the banana? Peeling and all? Like Godzilla consumed Japan?
X: Like a slow-moving molasses.
Me: We should sic sweaty balls on all things we wish would disappear. There’s a painting I created 8 or so years ago as a group project with other artists.....it sucked, and I mean hard like a black hole. It is still hanging somewhere with my name on it. Could sweaty balls take care of it for me?
X: Like I said... It’s all about the body temp.
Me: Hmmmmm. Well, that’s about all the conversation I can eek out of sweaty balls. Got anything else to add?
X: Visuals and lab experiments?! Sorry, I’m not totally focused on balls right now. Have you asked others?
Me: No, I reserve sweaty-ball email conversations for you. Oh, wait....Y may have something to add. Y? (I cc'd Y)
X: Oh no you didn’t...?!!
Me: Hey, I’m stressed. It’s OK for stressed people to go a little insane. Perfectly acceptable. Right, Y? (I cc'd Y again)
Later....
Y: As a refined sophisticate, I only partake of perspiration-laced balls, which would never consider temporarily adhering themselves to a frigid surface (other than mine).
Followed by....
Y: As a refined sophisticate, I only go a little insane, which is perfectly acceptable as you so astutely note.
Monday, August 25, 2008
Pointless quiz #1
Quiz time, my dear, sweet mm readers! :) I've taken mildly amusing slices of my life (or someone else's) and turned them into a fabulously interactive bit o'fun for you. Guess the answers, if you wish, via the happy little comment tool.
(Updated 9/3/08 - Answers are asterisked in bold.)
1. What dialog came just before.... "Dude, I'd rather smell your butt"?
2. To what was a friend referring when s/he said, "I big-toed it down the drain"?
3. What was a co-worker doing in the hallway when I peeked outside my office and asked, "Hey, wouldn't it be better if you blew yourself in your office?"
4. What was my response to.... "Come on, Lisa! I know he's a dirty old man who's almost 70, but he's funny as hell and is worth millions. He owns five planes. He's going to waste all that money on SOME woman, and it may as well be someone we like."
5. To what was a co-worker referring when s/he e-mailed, "It was like a pilot light on my trash hole last night."
6. A friend almost got in trouble for doing something naughty at the beach. What did he do?
7. Years ago, a co-worker laughingly threatened to sue me if I ever wrote a novel and incorporated a story she'd told me about her own childhood. What was it she used to do on warm, sunny days around age 6 or so?
8. Very recently I was told, "You could try the noodle. Some of the noodles are quite large, and, if you wanted, you could even blow them." Naturally, that gave me a giggle -- but what was I told immediately afterward which gave me a giggle FIT?
(Updated 9/3/08 - Answers are asterisked in bold.)
1. What dialog came just before.... "Dude, I'd rather smell your butt"?
a. "What sort of toxic soup of chemicals are you spraying in your office? It's making me gag." ***
b. "Auugh! I really wish you'd stop microwaving broccoli for lunch."
c. "Get those hot donuts out of here -- I can't be smelling yummy things! Don't you know I'm on a diet?"
2. To what was a friend referring when s/he said, "I big-toed it down the drain"?
a. a giant centipede
b. dog excrement
c. human excrement ***
3. What was a co-worker doing in the hallway when I peeked outside my office and asked, "Hey, wouldn't it be better if you blew yourself in your office?"
a. leaning forward, almost doubled over, with his back to me
b. testing a desk fan to see if it would blow an electrical circuit ***
c. blowing his face and neck with canned air
4. What was my response to.... "Come on, Lisa! I know he's a dirty old man who's almost 70, but he's funny as hell and is worth millions. He owns five planes. He's going to waste all that money on SOME woman, and it may as well be someone we like."
a. "I don't know....the last time I got involved with an older man, I ended up on TV wearing hot pink short shorts and a matching feather boa."
b. "Um...isn't he the one who has an anatomically-correct, inflatable sheep in his hangar?" ***
c. "Maybe. Do you think he would teach me to fly?"
5. To what was a co-worker referring when s/he e-mailed, "It was like a pilot light on my trash hole last night."
a. yesterday's spicy lunch ***
b. hemorrhoids
c. an inflamed zit in an unfortunate location
6. A friend almost got in trouble for doing something naughty at the beach. What did he do?
a. flirted with a buxom, Texan debutante who was accompanying her pistol-totin' daddy on a business trip
b. buried a buddy's 5-year-old son in the sand, sculpting the boy a giant, flaccid 3-ft penis ***
c. got drunk and, after an unpleasant conversation with his girlfriend back home, threw the hotel phone out the window....narrowly missing the hotel manger's tiny, shiny bald head
7. Years ago, a co-worker laughingly threatened to sue me if I ever wrote a novel and incorporated a story she'd told me about her own childhood. What was it she used to do on warm, sunny days around age 6 or so?
a. go outside in the driveway, strip off all her clothes, and lie spread-eagled on the hot asphalt because she loved the heat against her skin ***
b. climb her favorite tree in the backyard, strip off all her clothes, and swing from her knees on the lower branches, pretending to be a monkey in the zoo
c. slip through the hedge to their neighbor's yard, strip off all her clothes, and jump into the shin-deep kiddie pool, hoping that little Robbie would come out and play with her
8. Very recently I was told, "You could try the noodle. Some of the noodles are quite large, and, if you wanted, you could even blow them." Naturally, that gave me a giggle -- but what was I told immediately afterward which gave me a giggle FIT?
a. "Some people also suck the noodles."
b. "Blowing them makes the noodles bigger."
c. "Of course, it's usually children who blow the noodles." ***
Friday, August 15, 2008
Wig Day at work!
You think a creative department needs to be bored in order to invent and celebrate something called "Wig Day"? Pffft! It's pretty darn interesting to see what types of stress-bustin' diversions emerge when overworked, exhausted people decide that a little FUN is in order. Here I am with a few mm readers. In case any of them decide to run for political office one day, I've incorporated the ever-so-functional "rectangles of anonymity." Can you guess which one is "S" and which one is "M"?
Tuesday, August 5, 2008
If you had a magic muffin....
Me: "If you had a magic muffin, what would it feel like going down?"
S: "You're looking for blog material, aren't you?"
Me: "Hey, it's been awhile since I've posted a conversation. Work with me."
S: "Well, let's see. If I had a magic.....muffffin.....what would it feel like.....going down?"
Me: "Yep."
S: [allowing a little time to lapse] "Hmmmmm."
Me: "Oh, it's not a hard question. Come on, there's even a second part to it."
S: "What's the second part? That might help me answer the first part."
Me: "What would happen after you ate it? I mean, it is magic, after all, right?"
S: "But that's not logical."
Me: "What do you mean?"
S: "The second part of the question wouldn't necessarily be the logical next step. You said if a magic muffin 'went down'.....that doesn't mean that I ate it."
Me: "Ohhhhhh. Good point. Well, I have another question."
S: "What's that?"
Me: "If you were redecorating a torture chamber, what sort of wallpaper would you choose?"
S: "Probably something spikey with a downward motion to it."
Me: "Really? Not teddy bears?"
S: "No."
Me: "I can't believe you didn't answer my magic muffin question."
S: "There's just so many directions I could go with that one."
Me: "Well, I'm going to ask M at lunch. I'll bet he'll answer me."
A bit later, while sitting in Panera with S and M ...
Me: "I have a question."
M: "What?"
S: "Oh, good Lord. Here she goes."
M: "What?"
S: [rising out of his chair] "I need more to drink."
Me: [grabbing S's sleeve] "No, the question is for both of you! Don't leave."
S: [leaving the table in search of the soda machine] "I'm really thirsty. Ask M."
Me: "If you had a magic muffin, what would it feel like going down?"
M: [staring at me, quizzically] "If I had a what?"
Me: "There's a second part to the question."
M: "What's the second part?"
Me: "What would happen after you ate it?"
M: [chuckling and looking around the room as if beseeching others for help]
Me: "I mean, if it's a magic muffin, something cool has to happen after you eat it. What would happen?"
M: "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."
Me: "Mmmmm. OK. I have another question."
M: "What?"
Me: "if you were redecorating a torture chamber, what sort of wallpaper would you choose?"
M: [chuckling] "A torture chamber?"
Me: "S said he would choose a spikey pattern that pointed downward."
S: [coming back to the table, catching my last sentence] "Oh, I see she's moved on to the next question."
M: "Yes, she has."
S: "You know, another wallpaper option would be a pattern based on those African penis idols."
Me: "Huh?"
S: [flexing forearm and making a tight, hard fist] "You know, those idols with the giant...."
Me: "Ahhhhhh."
S: "Of course, it would really depend on what sort of torture would be taking place."
Me: "I see. What type of torture would the penis wallpaper imply?"
S: "Oh, just anything involving that particular body part."
Me: "I was thinking teddy bears and kittens for the wallpaper."
M: "Or beach scenes."
Me: "Exactly. Something that takes you to your happy place."
M: "Right."
Me: "So do you guys have any questions?"
S: "Sure, I've got a question."
Me: "Great!"
S: "If you redecorated your proctologist's office, what wallpaper would you use?"
Me: "Pastel-colored popsicles."
M: "What's a proctologist?"
S: [looking at me for some unknown reason] "What's a proctologist?"
Me: "Why are you looking at me?"
S: [looking at M] "Did you say 'What's a proctologist?'"
M: "Yes, what is it?"
S: "An ass doctor."
M: [snort-laughing]
Me: "That's why I said popsicles on the wallpaper. It's cold, a convenient size...it would provide some relief, right?"
Did you notice that no one ever answered my magic muffin questions? It's just plain WRONG when a girl can't get her curiosity satisfied.
S: "You're looking for blog material, aren't you?"
Me: "Hey, it's been awhile since I've posted a conversation. Work with me."
S: "Well, let's see. If I had a magic.....muffffin.....what would it feel like.....going down?"
Me: "Yep."
S: [allowing a little time to lapse] "Hmmmmm."
Me: "Oh, it's not a hard question. Come on, there's even a second part to it."
S: "What's the second part? That might help me answer the first part."
Me: "What would happen after you ate it? I mean, it is magic, after all, right?"
S: "But that's not logical."
Me: "What do you mean?"
S: "The second part of the question wouldn't necessarily be the logical next step. You said if a magic muffin 'went down'.....that doesn't mean that I ate it."
Me: "Ohhhhhh. Good point. Well, I have another question."
S: "What's that?"
Me: "If you were redecorating a torture chamber, what sort of wallpaper would you choose?"
S: "Probably something spikey with a downward motion to it."
Me: "Really? Not teddy bears?"
S: "No."
Me: "I can't believe you didn't answer my magic muffin question."
S: "There's just so many directions I could go with that one."
Me: "Well, I'm going to ask M at lunch. I'll bet he'll answer me."
A bit later, while sitting in Panera with S and M ...
Me: "I have a question."
M: "What?"
S: "Oh, good Lord. Here she goes."
M: "What?"
S: [rising out of his chair] "I need more to drink."
Me: [grabbing S's sleeve] "No, the question is for both of you! Don't leave."
S: [leaving the table in search of the soda machine] "I'm really thirsty. Ask M."
Me: "If you had a magic muffin, what would it feel like going down?"
M: [staring at me, quizzically] "If I had a what?"
Me: "There's a second part to the question."
M: "What's the second part?"
Me: "What would happen after you ate it?"
M: [chuckling and looking around the room as if beseeching others for help]
Me: "I mean, if it's a magic muffin, something cool has to happen after you eat it. What would happen?"
M: "I don't know. I'll have to think about it."
Me: "Mmmmm. OK. I have another question."
M: "What?"
Me: "if you were redecorating a torture chamber, what sort of wallpaper would you choose?"
M: [chuckling] "A torture chamber?"
Me: "S said he would choose a spikey pattern that pointed downward."
S: [coming back to the table, catching my last sentence] "Oh, I see she's moved on to the next question."
M: "Yes, she has."
S: "You know, another wallpaper option would be a pattern based on those African penis idols."
Me: "Huh?"
S: [flexing forearm and making a tight, hard fist] "You know, those idols with the giant...."
Me: "Ahhhhhh."
S: "Of course, it would really depend on what sort of torture would be taking place."
Me: "I see. What type of torture would the penis wallpaper imply?"
S: "Oh, just anything involving that particular body part."
Me: "I was thinking teddy bears and kittens for the wallpaper."
M: "Or beach scenes."
Me: "Exactly. Something that takes you to your happy place."
M: "Right."
Me: "So do you guys have any questions?"
S: "Sure, I've got a question."
Me: "Great!"
S: "If you redecorated your proctologist's office, what wallpaper would you use?"
Me: "Pastel-colored popsicles."
M: "What's a proctologist?"
S: [looking at me for some unknown reason] "What's a proctologist?"
Me: "Why are you looking at me?"
S: [looking at M] "Did you say 'What's a proctologist?'"
M: "Yes, what is it?"
S: "An ass doctor."
M: [snort-laughing]
Me: "That's why I said popsicles on the wallpaper. It's cold, a convenient size...it would provide some relief, right?"
Did you notice that no one ever answered my magic muffin questions? It's just plain WRONG when a girl can't get her curiosity satisfied.
Sunday, August 3, 2008
Just trying to turn you on
I don't talk about music much, do I? I've thought about it, and even had a suggestion last year from a mm reader to review a CD every now and then. The problem with that approach is that I so rarely buy an entire CD nowadays -- I'm quite happily entrenched in the iTunes per-song purchase model.
What I thought may be interesting instead is to turn you on to some cool artists I've found recently.
Low Motion Disco
I discovered this duo just by scopin' the iTunes store. Their music -- categorized as electronic, and almost entirely instrumental -- is rich, multilayered, intricate, emotive. Perfectly perfect for piping over your Shuffle while cooling down in the gym. Great for lazy Sundays, too.
The Cat Empire
Caught "Voodoo Cowboy" on WNCW, and just had to hear more! Browsed through their offerings on iTunes, and within minutes I was the superdelighted owner of 7 songs from three different CDs. Many tunes have an upbeat, ultra-fun Squirrel Nut Zippers-ish vibe....others are just wide open and make you want to shake your booty with abandon....others are a bit slower, moody, and deliciously drunk. All are different and guaranteed NOT to induce any yawning.
Los Lonely Boys
Another great group I found by browsing iTunes. This Texas trio has an appreciatively diverse sound -- their repertoire takes you from driving blues to Mexicali-esque happiness to just-plain-good body-bouncing beats. Compelling rhythms, all of them.
DJ Rekha
This woman was featured in an NPR interview which I caught one morning while getting ready for work. Intrigued by the funky, complex, worldbeat sound, I made it a point to look her up later, and wound up purchasing five tracks from the "Basement Bhangra" CD. The perfect venue in my particular universe? My pulsing, sweaty alone-time in the spinning-class studio. In another lifetime, it would've made kickin' dance music.
Rufus Thomas
I'm a little embarrassed to admit I didn't know this legend by name until Pandora directed my attention his way. I certainly recognized his music, though. Remember "Walking the Dog"? That's him. He has another lesser-known but equally fun toe-tapping song called "Can Your Monkey Do the Dog?". Ha!
Nouvelle Vague
This French group covers older songs, almost exclusively -- I really like to hear a great new spin on an old favorite, and these guys hit the target almost every time. I first heard them in a TV commercial for the cable reality show "LA Ink." It was a nearly unrecognizable, bouncy-and-cheerful version of Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself." They've also remade more obscure songs -- one of my faves is "Too Drunk to Fuck" because it makes me laugh.
What I thought may be interesting instead is to turn you on to some cool artists I've found recently.
Low Motion Disco
I discovered this duo just by scopin' the iTunes store. Their music -- categorized as electronic, and almost entirely instrumental -- is rich, multilayered, intricate, emotive. Perfectly perfect for piping over your Shuffle while cooling down in the gym. Great for lazy Sundays, too.
The Cat Empire
Caught "Voodoo Cowboy" on WNCW, and just had to hear more! Browsed through their offerings on iTunes, and within minutes I was the superdelighted owner of 7 songs from three different CDs. Many tunes have an upbeat, ultra-fun Squirrel Nut Zippers-ish vibe....others are just wide open and make you want to shake your booty with abandon....others are a bit slower, moody, and deliciously drunk. All are different and guaranteed NOT to induce any yawning.
Los Lonely Boys
Another great group I found by browsing iTunes. This Texas trio has an appreciatively diverse sound -- their repertoire takes you from driving blues to Mexicali-esque happiness to just-plain-good body-bouncing beats. Compelling rhythms, all of them.
DJ Rekha
This woman was featured in an NPR interview which I caught one morning while getting ready for work. Intrigued by the funky, complex, worldbeat sound, I made it a point to look her up later, and wound up purchasing five tracks from the "Basement Bhangra" CD. The perfect venue in my particular universe? My pulsing, sweaty alone-time in the spinning-class studio. In another lifetime, it would've made kickin' dance music.
Rufus Thomas
I'm a little embarrassed to admit I didn't know this legend by name until Pandora directed my attention his way. I certainly recognized his music, though. Remember "Walking the Dog"? That's him. He has another lesser-known but equally fun toe-tapping song called "Can Your Monkey Do the Dog?". Ha!
Nouvelle Vague
This French group covers older songs, almost exclusively -- I really like to hear a great new spin on an old favorite, and these guys hit the target almost every time. I first heard them in a TV commercial for the cable reality show "LA Ink." It was a nearly unrecognizable, bouncy-and-cheerful version of Billy Idol's "Dancing With Myself." They've also remade more obscure songs -- one of my faves is "Too Drunk to Fuck" because it makes me laugh.
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