My Week: Blog Version

I got some interesting comments from people this week. Here's a sampling:

Friend: I got a new dress for the wedding I went to. It's the lowest cut clothing I've worn, lots of cleavage. Made me think of you.

Boss writing on assignment board next to my name: Laurie - you'll have an "undated" story tomorrow.
Professor and Host of local program walking by: Laurie is un-dated? That's so sad. We need to change that.

In other news...

I got a voicemail from someone inviting me out for a lunch date. I never returned the call. Oops.

I spent $124.38 at the grocery store last night. Most of it on "hurricane food." I don't think I've ever spent that much on groceries before. I felt like a mom shopping for school food. My cart was full of juice boxes, granola bars, single-serve cookies and crackers, dried fruit, tuna lunch packs, goldfish crackers, bottled water and more.

Steven W. Murray isn't the only one who has news. I have news every day. Unfortunately my news is more of the "Red Light Cameras" and "Smoking Ban" variety.

I'm going to the Farmers Market tomorrow. It's all part of my dream to become Granola Girl and promote sustainable living.

That's All Folks...

Send in the Clowns

I stole this from Nancy. This is how it feels some days...

Do you know what it's like to be a clown?

Do you know what it's like to suffer

from too many laughs?

Do you know what it is like for a

girl to be born a circus act?

Do you know what it's like to have a funny bone

for a brain?

Do you?

I don't have any white paint

on my face, but I wear a mask.

I have a silly smile that never changes.

It's always there and everyone expects it to be there.

They like it that way.

They enjoy a clown and they use a clown

because they think a clown doesn't care

about anything.

I can't enjoy a bad mood with other people.

That's a strange luxury.

I have to be a clown.

Whenever people tease me I turn into an act,

a fool standing on my head.

Then I look up and I see a world full of upside down people

trying to be what they aren't.

I see so many people wearing strange colorless makeup,

and the longer they wear it the harder it is to

discover what kind of people they really are underneath.

I'm waiting for someone to step behind my face

and find me!

Not Stevie, but me!

Lord, when will this Stevie be free to be me?

Mind-Numbing

I can't possibly blog about anything interesting today. I spent nearly five hours of my day trying not to stab my eye out with a pencil. I was covering the City Council meeting. They spent 1 1/2 hours arguing over one single item on the agenda. One item!

I think I need a Prozac.

IMHO

Comedy is like quicksilver. It changes in a flash as the whims and caprice of the current generation dictate what is funny. It morphs into something unrecognizable, yet oddly familiar. It borrows, steals, cajoles, beckons and...ok...ok...enough philosophical mumbo jumbo. Here's what I'm getting at.

The double-aughts have their Will Ferrell.
The 90s had their Jim Carrey.
The 80s had their...well...perhaps the 80s are best left out of this. At least with regards to comedy.
But the 70s had the man who I believe will be remembered as one of the comedic geniuses (and Renaissance men) of the 20th century.

He can dance. And then he can dance.
He can play banjo. For real.

And he's just really funny.

YouTube Brilliance

This made me laugh.

If I kiss you where it's sore will you feel better?
Will you feel anything at all?

My Week: Blog Version

Unconsummated relationships suck. See Pepsi entry.

I adore my red patent leather clutch.

Doing something hastily can sometimes be mistaken for doing something hatefully.

Drama with three guys in the span of one week makes for a very emotional week.

God supplies all my needs according to His glorious riches in Christ Jesus. And His timing is perfect, too.

I love to cook. But not for myself. Except when I invent something new like roasted figs with goat cheese and cracked pepper.

There should be more farmers' markets in Houston.

Bridget is a very cute name. Any girl named Bridget should have a few freckles on her nose.

I miss having a kitty.

I love my Big Little Brother.

I met Stuart Little.

If I could have any job in the world, I'd be a songwriter.

I'm not sure if I live alone or have a roommate.

Obligatory Blog Post

It's been a busy day and I'm about to head out for yet another interview. I'll have a decent post for tomorrow. I'm already plotting it out in my head. But rather than leave you with nothing...I give you...slightly questionable, teeny bit sketchy, only a little scandalous..Ben Stiller and Vince Vaughn. Don't say I didn't warn you.

A Sad Story

I did something today that I rarely do. I bought a Pepsi while I was at the gas station. I love Pepsi. It's my favorite. But I try to limit my soda intake as much as possible. But today it was so hot outside and a cold, refreshing, fizzy Pepsi sounded so good. So I ran to the cooler, grabbed one (thinking to myself "wow, that's a colorful new logo they've got on the bottles) and checked out at the register.

I drove back to the station and settled in at my desk to work on my story while eating my lunch. About 30 minutes later I realized my Pepsi wasn't with me. Fiddlesticks. I must have left it in the car. So I head back downstairs and out into the heat and retrieve my luscious, thirst-quenching Pepsi. It's warm. Icky.

So I stick my 20 ounces of cola goodness in the fridge for a while. After a bit, I decide to pour it over a cup of ice and go for it. I take a big swig and...gag. This doesn't taste like Pepsi. I look at the bottle. "Oh no!", I literally say out loud. I picked up Pepsi Summer Mix by mistake. The label says "Summer Mix: a mix of tropical fruit flavors."

Um, no. No, thank you. It tastes like Pepsi with hints of cherry bubblegum and a lingering finish of Robitussin minus the alcohol.

Feeling pensive about Pepsi Summer Mix

Blech

My car smells bad after last week's flooding event. Going to have to shampoo the carpets.

I have a slight headache and my voice is hoarse. Not good in the radio biz.

One of my best friends isn't speaking to me. It's partly my fault.

My contact in my right eye is blurry. It's making me feel a little dizzy.

Anatomy of a day off

Sleep until 10am.

Go to Starbucks.

Get a pedicure.

Buy groceries to make dinner for friends.

Sweep, dust, clean bathroom and kitchen.

Read up on new fall fashions in People magazine.

Prep food for dinner.

Blog.

Remainder of day To Be Determined.

Stuff

Yesterday was insane. I have the kind of job that actually requires me to go out and drive around in the worst weather, while the rest of you are safe inside and wondering whether you'll get off of work early.

I got to experience one of the scariest moments of my life. I was driving down the Gulf Freeway feeder road, crested a hill and came down the other side. There were tons of cars everywhere and I couldn't see much ahead. In fact, I couldn't even tell there was deep water over the road...until I was already in it. So there I am, in my little Saturn, with flood waters rising around me. It was Biblical, I gotta tell ya.

I had to make a decision. Stay there and let the waters rise and potentially flood out my car? Or drive forward and hope the water didn't get too much deeper? I opted for driving forward. The water was so high that the wake actually came up over the hood of my car. I was nearly in tears and literally saying out loud "Jesus, please help me, please get me through, oh God help me." It was a "Jesus, take the wheel" moment.

The water got a bit deeper, but then just a foot or two ahead the road started to incline. I kept driving and finally made it to higher ground, pulled over, cried, and then called in a live report for the noon news. All while letting my engine run and noting that the water actually came into my car and my floorboards were wet. I was pretty shaken up for a few hours after that.

So I'm not going to work today or Monday. I refuse. Okay, maybe it's just because I had already scheduled these two days off and am driving up to Dallas to visit Vanessa. But it sure comes at a good time. Have a wonderful weekend everyone!

I'm dating and I don't even know it

My co-worker just told me he thought I was dating someone. He said he's been getting that impression from me for a while now and just didn't want to be nosey and ask. This is very interesting considering the fact that I am not dating anyone. I don't know how it's possible to "give the impression" of being in a relationship, but apparently that's what I have done. He seemed genuinely disappointed when I told him no boyfriend was in the picture.

Because you can never have too much Will Ferrell

And because I don't have anything to blog about.

Hot and Bothered

Something's wrong with the A/C in the newsroom. It's 80 degrees in here. Which is still better than the 100 degrees outside...but geez.

Warm work environment = cranky employees.

The Anniversary of Tom's Birth

Today is Tom's birthday. Since he is somewhere in Japan or Korea at the moment, he can't kill me for posting these pictures. Happy Birthday, Tom! Don't hate me!

Tom being manly.

Tom and the ladies (and Scott).

Tom saving the world (or solving a Sudoku puzzle).

Tom in a dress (still managing to be manly).

Portrait of Tom. With bling.

*Pictures courtesy of Bethany and Troy. Giving credit where credit is due.

Reality Really Does Bite

I have noticed a trend among my faithful readers. You like the funny stuff. It was pointed out to me today that over the past couple weeks I have posted some more "pensive" entries. Incidentally, most of those so-called pensive entries have been a line or two from a song or poem that I like, not my own original thoughts. So for all of you who only read my blog for the humor, you can go ahead and skip today's entry. For the remaining 2.7 readers who aren't afraid...

A recent excerpt from my journal:

I'm fearful of what will spill onto these pages -- revealing the demons of self-pity, despair, envy, bitterness and deepest hurt. The truth is that if I allow my pen to continue, all my darkest thoughts will be exposed to my own eyes. The confrontation of that hard reality is too much for me. It forces me to be vulnerable -- no, more than vulnerable -- it forces me to be desperate and helpless. Desperation and self-sufficiency are incompatible. So deeper into misery I continue to journey because at least misery is familiar. I know what to do with it -- how to luxuriate in it, examine it, treasure every line and detail, cup it to my face and cherish it in my heart, worship and adore it in all its cold, dead, agonizing splendor.

I Feel Old

Some co-workers and I were discussing various "back to school" items from our youth and I brought up the popular Trapper Keeper. Our 20-year-old college intern had no idea what I was talking about.

Reality Bites: Part Trois

Men are incorrigible. Case in point:

Me: So what are the plans for tonight?

Guy: I'll come by and pick you up around 7pm. Any preferences for where you'd like to go?

Me: 7pm is spiffy. I'm open to pretty much anything from sushi to fish-n-chips, hole-in-the-wall or white linen. Basically if you're looking for a hot girl who has a sense of adventure and killer conversational skills, you've come to the right place.

Guy: Wow. If only the rest of my life could be this simple. Approached by a hot, easy, girl who is adventurous. The pulse is racing.

Me: Let's not get carried away. I'm pretty sure you're the one who brought up the word "easy." Was that a Freudian slip or were you hoping the power of suggestion would convince me?

Guy: Yes.

Reality Bites: Part Deux

A guy called and asked me to dinner and a movie. I referred him to yesterday's blog post.
Turns out he was a pretender.

Reality Bites

Me: Bill* wants to take me to coffee.

Guy #2: What did you tell him?

Me: I told him I really don't want to expand my group of fake dates.

Guy #2: Good. You don't have room in your life for any more "Guy #" friends. All the pretenders need to just step off. And the real ones need to step up.

Me: Great. I think that will leave me with only vacancies.

*Names changed to protect the innocent.

Dreamy

I had the craziest dream last night. I was in a sci-fi movie. Picture it as a sort of cross between The Fifth Element and The Lord of the Rings. My co-stars were Luke and Owen Wilson, Chris Rock, Cate Blanchett and Anthony Hopkins.

I only remember a few details from the dream: Cate Blanchett was in the hospital and Owen Wilson was her servant; Chris Rock was attacked by an alien substance that stuck to his face and blinded him; Anthony Hopkins was the bad guy; Luke Wilson joined me on a trek across a desert.

I promise I haven't been abusing any type of controlled substances.

I wish I could lay down beside you when the day is done,
and wake up to your face against the morning sun.
But like everything I've ever known, you'll disappear one day.
So I spend my whole life hiding my heart away.

A New Title...and More Muppets

I have a new title: Culinerd. That's a combination of the words "culinary" and (obviously) "nerd." I earned this title after making what I thought was an innocent and off-hand remark about the slight flavor of fennel seeds that I detected in a friend's entree. To be exact, the fennel seeds were in the Italian sausage which was part of the stuffing inside the chicken breast which made up the primary element of the entree. But I digress. As soon as the words "fennel seeds" were out of my mouth, a hush fell over the table as my friends looked at me, mouths agape, forks suspended in mid-air and then proceeded to laugh uncontrollably and mock me for what they termed my culinerd sensibilities.

Laugh all you want, you Cookery Commoners! You Pabulum Plebeians! You Viand Vulgars! Laugh all the way to my dinner table, where your laughter will be silenced as you ruminate upon your misdeeds and masticate the victuals set before you.

A Famous Culinerd

The Three Irish Tenors...sort of

My new 'Life Motto'

What have you done for me lately?

I'll explain later...