The Fridge Chronicles

We're one week into our crusade for a better tomorrow...namely the fridge clean-up effort. You can see for yourself how things went.

Those vegetables on the top shelf are literally sitting in a pool of sludge. The jug of iced "tea" has been there for weeks. The milk was never even opened and is now well past its due date. I expect a live birth any day. Tune in next week for an update of The Fridge Chronicles...

Kindly - adj: of an agreeable or beneficial nature

Last week I received a delivery of a beautiful arrangement of flowers. They came as thanks for a service I provided to someone. They were unexpected and are sitting on my desk now, brightening my workspace and reminding me of someone's thoughtfulness and gratitude.


A couple weeks ago, a friend of mine bought a beautiful centerpiece for me at a charity event. He gave them to me, not because he's trying to woo me or had some sort of motive...but simply because he wanted to give me something I would enjoy.

I've been reflecting on kindnesses done for me. One that comes to mind over and over is the time I was at a family's home for a church event with some junior high kids. At the end of the evening, I went out to my car and drove home. It wasn't until the next day that I realized my car was quite a bit more shiny and clean than I remembered it being the day before. Turns out, the dad at the house I was visiting washed my car while it sat on his driveway. He did it simply because he wanted to and because it was a way of doing something kind and thoughtful for me. That was several years ago. I still remember it as being one of the nicest things someone has done for me.

So I'm thinking this week about what kinds of nice things I could do for others. I encourage you to do the same. Something as simple as washing someone's car could make a memory that stays with them for years to come.

Friday Fun

This is kind of addictive.

Things You Should Know

There are certain things you should know if you're over the age of...oh let's say 20...just to be lenient.

Here are some of those things, in no particular order.

Eke and eek are two different words with different meanings. They are not interchangeable.

Same rule applies to loose and lose. Please. Just...don't.

Know the correct saying or colloquialism before you quote it. No, it is not a doggy dog world. Nor are the ideas of March upon you.

If your last name ends with an 's' please know the rules for making it plural and/or possessive. Yes, the Jones family can come to dinner. No, we won't be having dinner at the Jones's. We might water the Joneses' plants. Mr. Jones' bunny is adorable. And you can keep up with the Joneses if you like.

There will be a pop quiz.

The Office (Refrigerator)

This is what it looks like. On a good day. Maybe I should start blogging about the life of the office fridge. At least our public radio credentials are mostly intact -- there's soy milk, lots of yogurt (though not much of it is organic), groceries from Whole Foods and Vietnamese take-out. Basically our fridge screams "Hipsters work here. Lazy ones."

When I hear about Tropical Storm Igor, this is all I can think about...

Things I should probably not say to boys...

"If you go to this event with me, you have to make out with me afterward."

I'm sure he knew I was joking. I mean clearly it's a joke. No one would take me seriously. Right?
I guess I'll find out...

Fear of commitment?

Sunday at church I was sitting in an aisle among several friends. A guy I know asked if he could sit next to me and I told him that was fine. He then proceeded to sit down one seat away, leaving a space between us. I gave him a funny look and said "Um, so you don't want to sit next to me?"

He got a puppy dog look on his face and replied "I don't want to fall in love."

Being Beautiful

As long as I can remember, I have hated my body. I hit puberty relatively early in life, around the age of 10. I also began gaining weight around the same time...and have never remembered a time since then when I didn't feel fat, ugly or undesirable.

Yes, I know I'm sharing a lot. You don't have to keep reading if it makes you uncomfortable.

My lifelong battle with my weight has shaped nearly every thought I have about my personal appearance.

"I am ugly," I tell myself. Oh sure, I have pretty green eyes and quite nice lips and killer eyelashes. But, in my mind, my fat body negates all those. It doesn't matter how nice my face is, if my body looks the way it does with all its jiggles and stretch marks and flab.

"No one could love this," I think critically, as I stare at myself in the mirror. "Who would choose me, when there are so many beautiful women out there?"

And, unfortunately, my life experience reinforces that thought. The one serious relationship I've had ended when the guy cheated on me and left me for a much younger, much thinner, much more physically beautiful girl.

So to fight those fears, I remind myself that the Lord doesn't see as men see, for men look on the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart. But even then, I end up in the spiral of self-hatred.

"Why, Lord? Why did you make men that way...so focused on physical appearance?" I plead. "You could have made them to look at who a person is, rather than how a person looks!"

Then the Lord gently reminds me that I am doing the very same thing that I accuse men of doing: I am more concerned with my body than I am with the state of my heart. I worry more about looking beautiful than about being beautiful. I think more about having a lovely body than about having a lovely character.

So I work to refocus my heart and energy on what really matters. And I try to remember that beauty is fleeting, but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised.
This is true. But every woman wants to be beautiful.

Earlier this year, a man who I respect and admire very much looked me in the eye and said "I want you to know that you are beautiful." It was the only time I've ever heard a man say those words to me. And it was the only time I can remember believing that it might be true.

As much as I treasure that moment, that one experience only takes me so far in my effort to overcome nearly 20 years of thinking negatively about myself.

Then last week I stumbled across something called the Beautiful Women Project. It's an art exhibit depicting the torsos of 120 women between the ages of 19 and 91. As I looked at the images of real women, I was struck by how few of them look anything like what we see on TV or in magazines. In fact, most of them look the opposite. But...they are beautiful.




They aren't perfect. They aren't ideal. But they are beautiful. They are fat. They are flabby. Some have breasts that sag. Some have no breasts at all. But they are beautiful.

They look like me.

And if that's the case, then I must be beautiful too.

Try Coloring OUTSIDE the Lines

Yesterday I went into the staff kitchen to warm up my frozen meal for lunch. One of my coworkers was already using the microwave, heating up her own lean cuisine. I patiently waited, and chatted, as her food cooked. When it was done, she made no move to take it out of the microwave. So I politely asked "Is that yours? Is it done?"

"Yes, it's finished," she replied. "But the box says it needs to sit in the microwave for one to two minutes before you remove it. So you'll have to wait another minute or so."

Seriously?

Another coworker happened to overhear this exchange and kindly came to my aid by gently saying "you know, it's ok to just let it sit on the counter for a minute. It doesn't have to sit inside the microwave."

Coworker Number 1 coolly ignored that hint and repeated firmly "wait another minute and then I'll take it out."

If I were a different kind of person, I would have pulled her lean cuisine out of the microwave and plopped it on the counter. But I'm not that kind of person. So I sat there and waited to warm up my lunch until she deemed that it had been "resting" long enough and freed up the microwave for public use.

I love my job.

Reason #342 Why I Love My Job

Walking through the hall today, a colleague casually introduced me to Mike Barratt. That would be the same Mike Barratt who was the lead crew surgeon for the International Space Station and more recently spent 199 days in space as a NASA Mission Specialist.

Chatting with him on the elevator, he mentioned his five children, ranging in age from 9 to 23. He also gave me the best quote of the day: "Space flight is easy. Raising children...now that's hard."

Meet Marshel...oops, I mean Marcel

MARCEL THE SHELL WITH SHOES ON from Dean Fleischer-Camp on Vimeo.

Best Quote of the Week

Coworker on the phone with an angry listener...

"So you're still mad at me?"

"I'm extremely mad at you. But you do have a nice voice."

Classic.

On my mind

I've been thinking a lot lately about the girls and women rescued and ministered to by the people at Charasia. For those of you who haven't heard about them, they are an India-based ministry that rescues young girls from the red light districts. Check out their website and see the many girls who now live in safety, surrounded by love, at the Charasia home.

Today in the news, Houston police arrested a mother and grandmother for forcing a 14-year-old girl into prostitution. Child prostitution is a global problem, not just a third-world issue. In fact, Houston is one of the worst cities in the United States for human and sex trafficking. Our geography close to the border and aligned along I-10 and I-45 positions us perfectly for the purposes of the evil people who devote their lives to the devastation of women and children.

I've long enjoyed the band Delta Spirit and every time I listen to their music I'm reminded of one of their most powerful songs, Streetwalker. It's on a mostly happy, mellow album called Ode to Sunshine.
Take a listen and read the lyrics. I hope you find it disturbing and uncomfortable. We all should.




Streetwalker ~ Delta Spirit

Streetwalker knows how to strut right
She knows the truth
Bad boys walking through the corridor
God knows what they're gonna do

Darkness paraded across the headlines:
'Little girl stolen from her bedroom'
Homeless, beat to death or put out
Hopeless, greedy and cruel

Oh why can't I feel for you?
My heart is so blind to you

Her head was spinning like a hurricane
Tina was singing her name
Old men like to rape her in the red light
She's too young and numb to complain

Little boy, bought at the age of six
Down the street, he's wearing a dress
Look at his face, you won't see no innocence
He's got so much experience

Oh why can't I feel for you?
They lie. What can I do?

Oh Love, set me free!
Set me free!
Come on and set me free!

Oh Lord, set me free!
Set me free!
Come on and set me free!

Underground...the German Casanova
Underground...the Panamanian Queen
He whispers: 'Down here the law will never find you.
Down here I'm your god and king.'

It's a sin to sit and just do nothing
There's a special place in hell for me
Oh God I just gotta do something
I swear to God this is happening

Oh Lord, set me free!
Set me free!
It could've been me!

Oh Lord, set them free!
Set them free!
Oh it could have been me...

My Celebrity Boyfriend Sets the Record Straight (Warning: Contains Language)

Meet the Neighbors

Some new neighbors moved into the townhouse directly behind ours. We're all for meeting the new neighbors, but we weren't expecting to happen in quite the way it did.

The new guy backed out of his garage...directly into ours.

Our garage is now leaning. Welcome to the neighborhood!

From Our Moscow Bureau

I just found an old Moscow update that I somehow forgot to post. My apologies to the Moscow Correspondent for leaving this one unpublished for so long. It's a little hard to empathize with the story in Houston's August heat, but hopefully the QQ readers will enjoy the mental escape.
*******


Winter is a wonderful time. It makes most folks think of snow, warm coats, funny looking ski hats, and hot chocolate (or tea depending which side of the pond you were born). What it should make you think about is falling on the ice.


I've fallen down more times in the past two months than I've fallen in the last 15 years. Last month I fell on the street and literally did the Nestea plunge flat on my back on the hard iced over concrete. The only thing that broke my fall was my coworker's laptop that I had offered to carry home in my backpack (he'll never ask me to do that again).


I've also fallen on the cold frozen granite steps that lead down into the subway. The icing on the cake (get it! Icing!) from that experience was landing on the broken beer bottle that some bum had discarded at the end of the stairwell. I ended up getting glass in my shoe and had to remove both my shoes and socks so that I could get the shards out of my foot (how would you like to have been sitting next to me on the train for that little medical procedure?).


But the best so far was when I fell while walking to the grocery store near my flat. I tried to grab a light pole to keep from falling but it too was iced over. In a last ditch effort I flung my leg around the pole and slid down it until I ended up sitting on my butt in the middle of the busy sidewalk. One guy actually stopped and looked at me and snickered. I like to think he was considering stuffing a dollar bill in my…you get the picture.


I've decided now that the best way to confront my ineptness on the ice is to go to ice skating rinks and practice falling in a controlled environment. I've already been a couple of times this year to the ice skating rinks around town and I believe that it is helping hone my skills for navigating my way to/from the office each day. Don't get me wrong. I still fall occasionally. Come to think of it, I still fall a lot. Maybe if I wore a sequin-covered unitard while walking on this glacier that they call a city I would have more agility. Maybe…


-Chaz Michael Michaels aka The Moscow Correspondent

It's a frog's life

Last night I got home a bit late, turned on the lights, walked into the kitchen and found this:



Now at first glance you might think it's a cute, harmless, helpless frog like this:

But it wasn't. It was a scaly, shriveled, disgusting frog like this:

So I called every guy I could think of in a ten mile radius to help me get it out of my house. Several of them didn't answer their phones. A few of them responded like this:

But one of them (after laughing a little bit) showed up at my house to rescue me from the clutches of the evil frog, making me think of this:

He then affirmed my decision to call for help by telling me that picking up the frog "was pretty gross" and that I could call him any time I needed help and he would be on the way, which made me feel like this:

And probably made him feel a little like this:

So after the heroic rescue, everyone was happy, except the frog. Who was dead. The end.

Church Music

Anything I could tell you about the David Crowder Band, you probably already know. I'll just say this: David Crowder continues to amaze me with the way he stretches the boundaries of what we consider worship music. I love how he does that. I know of very few Christian musicians who can turn techno-dance music into true, God-glorifying worship. Or conversely, turn an almost erotic love song into passionate delight in the Lord. I LOVE his cover of Flyleaf's All Around Me. It takes worship to a place most of us are uncomfortable with, and yet he makes it so...right. If you haven't heard Church Music yet, give the album a listen.

All Around Me ~ Flyleaf

My hands are searching for you
My arms are outstretched toward you
I feel you on my fingertips
My tongue dances behind my lips for you

This fire rising through my being
Burning, I'm not used to seeing you

I'm alive
I'm alive

I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding onto what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing

My hands float up above me
And you whisper you love me
And I begin to fade
Into our secret place

The music makes me sway
The angels singing say we are alone with you
I am alone and they are too, with you

I'm alive
I'm alive

I can feel you all around me
Thickening the air I'm breathing
Holding onto what I'm feeling
Savoring this heart that's healing

And so I cry
The light is white
And I see you

Take my hand, I give it to you
Now you own me, all I am
You said you would never leave me
I believe you, I believe

Surprise Endings

Not long ago, I was visiting a friend at his house where he was hosting a handful of people for a small party. After the party, as people were clearing up and heading out, he asked me if I'd like a quick tour of his home. Of course, I told him.

He showed me around in the few downstairs areas I hadn't seen before proceeding upstairs. Upstairs, he ushered me into the study (messy), the master bedroom (large) and moved on to the guest bedroom.

He opened the door, we both screamed and he slammed the door shut again.

Any guesses what was behind Door #3?

Yes, dear readers, it was one of my good guy friends, changing clothes before he went to another event.

They called it the special "LJ Tour."

Red Bull?

I have a recently developed theory (and by "recently" I mean just this moment) that the best and most universally loved fruits are all red. I mean, think about it for a minute. We all know people who detest bananas. We are ambivalent toward oranges most of the time. Green grapes amuse us for a while, but ultimately don't win the popularity contest. Red is where it's at.

Raspberries
Cherries
Watermelon
Red grapes
Plums
Strawberries

I have no idea what use or purpose this theory has, but since when do theories have to be useful? Also I really wish I could add peaches to the list, but they're not red. They're peach.

Revenge of the televangelists

Every once in awhile, I volunteer in my church bookstore. I'm in charge of running a register and helping with customers. Last Sunday, the store was very quiet and only one other volunteer was in there with me. The phone rang and I answered it, hearing an unusual voice on the other end. I couldn't decide if the caller was a man or a woman...it was definitely an older person with a high pitched voice.

The caller asked me my name and I told him/her. Then he/she said "can you find out if your store carries a book I'm looking for?" "Of course," I replied. "It's called I Was Healed, by Benny Hinn," the caller informed me.

Ummm. Houston, we have a problem.

Now I didn't want to be rude to this older she-male on the phone, but I also knew that there was no way my church would carry any of Benny Hinn's books or products. I wasn't sure how to tell her/him that, so I politely said "I don't think we carry that, but let me check our inventory and make sure."

I put the caller on hold and told the other volunteer that this person was looking for a book by Benny Hinn and if we somehow carried it I was quitting then and there.

Of course, it wasn't in our inventory. I got back on the phone and said "I'm so sorry, we don't carry any of Benny Hinn's books."
The caller responded "oh honey I wish you had that book. It's so amazing. I've been a member of the church for 20 years and it's one of the most beautiful books I've ever read. Benny Hinn writes about finding a treasure box and then he opens the box. And do you know what's inside that box?"
"Um, no," I say.
All of a sudden the person's voice changes to a man's voice with a normal pitch and he says "it was filled with a load of crap like I'm giving you!"

I was speechless. The guy starts cracking up laughing, saying "oh I got you! I got you good!" Turns out it was a friend of mine from the church, calling just to mess with me.

He did get me. He got me good. But you know what they say about payback...it's a...hassle.

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

~Pablo Neruda

On being forgettable

Before my vacation to Colorado, I sent an email to about a dozen friends, asking if anyone could take me to and pick me up from the airport. Several people responded and I made arrangements with two of them for rides.

One of my guy friends volunteered as the one to pick me up when I arrived back in town. I sent him all my flight information and confirmed that he would be available.

The night before my flight he sent me a text message confirming that he was still scheduled to pick me up.

The morning of my flight he sent me another text message that said he would be at the airport at 8pm to get me.

The night of my flight he forgot me.

The only acceptable version of a Ke$ha song

Irony, Meet Thy Thief

So yesterday my car was broken into. It was parked in the middle of my office parking lot, surrounded by the coworkers' cars. The "incident" happened some time during the middle of the afternoon, when our parking lot is usually quite busy.

The perpetrator(s) used some sort of tool to wedge between the front and back window and popped the front window to smithereens. It appears they were after a work bag I had in the back seat. I suspect they thought the bag contained a laptop. It didn't. All that was inside was a microphone and digital recorder and other odds and ends of the journalistic trade. They had no use for any of the stuff and dumped it back in the car and ran off. Here's where the irony comes in. My laptop was in the car. It was hidden underneath my driver's side seat. If they had looked closely, they could have seen the edge peeking out. But they missed it completely, got nothing for their time or effort and left me with a busted up car.

Part of me feels victorious. I foiled the would-be villains!
Part of me feels stupid. I left the bag in my car where anyone could see it.
Part of me feels grateful. It could have been much worse than just a broken window.

Mostly I just feel tired. Tired of dealing with grown-up problems. Tired of doing all of this alone. Tired of having no one to turn to and no one to cry with when bad things happen. Tired.

And then I remember that I have someone who sings me to sleep every night (Zeph 3:17). I have someone who loves me with an everlasting love (Jer 31:3). I have someone who satisfies me and makes me feel young again (Psalm 103:5). I have someone who protects me when I feel alone and scared (Psalm 27:5).

I have someone.

Different Kinds of Me

Maybe I've been trying too hard. I've been trying to protect you from how things really are, and in the process I lost my pleasure in this blog because it doesn't truly reflect me. I used to love writing as a creative outlet, but now it feels like a chore. Maybe it's time to make my blog what I really want it to be -- a place where I can be myself and not worry about whether the things I'm writing are the things you want to read.



I've always tried to keep the QQ funny and lighthearted. That's because most of the time when I veer away from that pattern, I get burned. People criticize what I say or misunderstand me or tell me they just wish I would go back to being funny again.



But the truth is I'm not just a funny girl. I'm funny and fun and warm and lighthearted, but I'm also deep and melancholy and contemplative and wounded. I'm someone who loves to laugh and I'm someone who cries often. I'm a girl with a great sense of humor, but there's much more to me than that.



My blog isn't the place to share my most personal thoughts or to work out my insecurities and issues. But it is MY blog and can be more than I've allowed it to be recently. I hope you're ok with that. If not, I'm doing it anyway.

*Update: Just as I was about to post this I found out my car was broken into...an ironic continuation of the reality that not everything is happy happy joy joy right now. Sigh.

Listing

Things I need to blog about, in no particular order:

• Vacation in Colorado
• Being forgettable
• I spy someone naked (almost)
• Friend-Dating

I'm going to try to be better about updating my blog regularly. If you have any suggestions for upcoming entries in the dating series, please let me know. I want to tackle friend-dating, but it's a tough topic! Stay tuned for that soon.

Thanks for sticking around, lovers. xoxo.

Geico does it again

Hold, Please

The other day I walked into the ladies room at my office. Someone was in the stall next to me, quite obviously talking on a cell phone. After a few seconds I could tell it was our intern and she was talking to her mom. "Ok," I thought to myself, "talking on your cell in the office restroom is really not an appropriate thing to do, but at least it's just your mom."

Right then she said "Hang on Mom...Dad is calling on the other line."

Fair or Foul?

I frequently store snacks in the office fridge -- things like carrots, hummus, grapes etc. Last week, I put a package of Jello pudding cups in there. That was my first mistake. Never put something in the company fridge that someone else might want to snack on. Fruits and vegetables are usually safe (although I did have some carrots stolen once) and hummus is the safest of all (no one is tempted to dip into someone else's beige paste-like goo). But pudding cups...well...that's a different story. Despite the fact that they were sugar-free and low-calorie, they proved to be too much of a temptation for someone.

So I wasn't terribly surprised when one was missing from the package yesterday. I was surprised, however, to find a dollar bill tucked into the package in place of the missing pudding cup.

Apparently at least one office thief has a guilty conscience.

So what say you? Is it fair to swipe someone's pudding cup as long as you leave compensation? Or is it foul to take what isn't yours and just throw money at the problem?

The Dating Game: Thanks, But No Thanks

Let's talk about rejection. Since the first entry in my dating series was primarily for the guys, I thought it would be a good idea to address the girls this time.

Rejection is not fun, no matter which side of it you're on. Men don't like to be rejected and women don't like to do the rejecting. It's unpleasant and uncomfortable for everyone involved. That said, there are some guidelines for how to make it easier and less painful.

I talked to a couple of trusted guy friends and asked them specifically if they're going to be turned down, how they would like that to play out. This entry is based directly on their feedback. These guidelines are formed on the presumption that you are rejecting a first date or rejecting someone after a handful of dates...not rejection in a long-term relationship.

Before we get into the nitty gritty...ask yourself this question: Why am I rejecting this guy?

Is it because you have a crush on someone else? That's probably not a valid reason. Is it because you just don't think you're all that attracted to him? Consider giving him a chance. You might be surprised how quickly attraction can develop when you get to know him a little better. There are valid reasons for rejecting someone...but be sure to examine your motives when doing so.
Are you going to regret rejecting him in 6 months or a year? If so, don't reject him, you may not get him back.

Ok, let's talk about what NOT to do. Girls, we have a hard time with wanting to let a guy down easy...we don't want to be mean or rude or dismissive...so we tend to make some of the following mistakes. DON'T!

• DON'T tell him that God is telling you not to date right now. God is probably not telling you not to date, and even if He is your date does not need to know this.
• DON'T tell him that you prayed about it. Chances are you have not actually prayed about dating this guy, and even if you have your date does not need to know this.
  
• DON'T tell him that if your feelings change you will let him know.
• DON'T flirt with him.
• DON'T ignore him when you run into him. It's rude, and will cause him to lose respect for you.
• DON'T tell him you want to be friends. He is pursuing you, he is not just a friend and does not want to be "just friends" right now.
• DON'T tell him that you hate rejecting guys. It sounds prideful, as though he is one of a long list of men pursuing you.
• DON'T tell him "you are a nice or great guy, but...". Guys hate hearing this.
• DON'T try to encourage him about his life/personality/ministry etc. Allow others to build him up, your job is to leave him alone.
• DO be careful about telling him the things you like about him. He will wonder why you are rejecting him.
  

Now for the right way to reject a guy:
If the rejection is for a first date...

• DO thank him for asking you out.
• DO decline the offer.
• That is all that is required

If the rejection is after a few dates...

• DO thank him for taking the time to get to know you.
• DO tell him that you have enjoyed getting to know him.
• DO tell him that you do not want to be in a relationship with him right now.
• DO answer any questions he asks you truthfully, but try to stick to all the previous guidelines.
• That is all that is required.

I know this sounds incredibly blunt, straightforward and simple to reject someone this way...but guess what Ladies, MEN PREFER STRAIGHTFORWARD! They want a simple answer that is honest, respectful and uncomplicated. Let's do our part to make rejection as painless as possible for them.

Something to tide you over...

The Dating Game: Let the blogs begin!

Let's get our feet wet a bit before we jump into the deep end. Today, our topic is How to Compliment a Lady.

I think one of the best ways to start this conversation is by pointing out what NOT to do. Please read this post for an illustration of the wrong way to give a compliment. Ok men, now that you know what NOT to do, you're probably wondering what the heck you should do instead. You may be thinking "what's wrong with telling a girl her necklace is interesting??!" Well, my romance-challenged friends, there is nothing wrong with saying that to a girl. But it won't woo her and it probably won't even make her feel all that special or even encouraged. So here's my list of pointers for how to say something nice to a girl.*

1. Use "Pretty" Words - "Your dress is pretty." "Your new hair cut is really nice." "The cookies you made are delicious." This seems like a simple concept, but I think it's lost on a lot of men. Words like "interesting," "cool," and "awesome" all have their place in conversation. But they are guy words when it comes to compliments. Girls feel much more appreciated and special when you use pretty words.
2. Be Sincere - Mean what you say and say what you mean. Girls can tell when you're just using a line.
   
3. Be Specific - Women appreciate it when you notice the details. Some of the best compliments go beyond the obvious. Every woman loves to hear that she is beautiful. But it is even greater to hear specifically WHY you think she is beautiful. Examples: "LJ, I love how green your eyes are." "Your smile is beautiful." "It was really great to see the way you helped at XYZ event. I was impressed by how compassionate you are."
   
4. Move On - Make the compliment, let her respond, and then move on to other topics. It tends to make girls feel a teeny bit creeped out when a guy says something like "I really like your dress" and then just stands there looking at her in the dress. Or if you say "Wow, I love it when you fix your hair that way" and then stare at her hair...well you get the idea. All I'm saying is don't get bogged down in the compliment and stay there. Keep the conversation moving.

These guidelines should work in all compliment scenarios, whether talking to a friend, potential date, girlfriend, sister, mom etc. The guidelines change a bit if you're already in a relationship with someone. For example, #4 doesn't really apply when you're complimenting your girlfriend because you're allowed to stare at her a bit without creeping her out. But in general, you can use these in all circumstances. I suggest printing them out and studying them in your spare time. Perhaps if you've run out of bathroom reading material and you're tired of reading the back of the shampoo bottle...you could keep a copy of this handy. Just an idea...

OH! One more thought...Men, please be aware that we girls realize sometimes you get tongue-tied. It's ok if you don't get every compliment just right. In fact, it can even be endearing to see you bumble and fumble your way through a compliment. But we do like to hear nice things and be appreciated, so I offer my list for your perusal and insight. That's why I call these "guidelines" and not "rules."


*Note: It's ok to compliment a girl, even if you're not trying to woo her. Kind words don't have to equal flirting.

No greater love than this...

He is jealous for me
Loves like a hurricane --
I am a tree...bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy
When all of a sudden I am unaware of these afflictions eclipsed by glory
and I realize just how beautiful You are and how great Your affections are for me

Oh how He loves us, oh.
Oh how He loves us.
How He loves us, oh.

Yeah He loves us! O how He loves us!
O how He loves us!
O how He loves!

We are His portion and He is our prize
drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes
If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking!

Heaven meets Earth like an unforseen kiss
and my heart turns violently inside of my chest
I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way that...

He loves us! O how He loves us! O how He loves us! O how He loves!

Hoodwinked

I promise the dating blogs are forthcoming. I just haven't had the time to dedicate to them as yet. Hopefully this week I'll start the series. In the meantime, a tidbit from today.

I had a couple pairs of pants that needed alterations, so I took them to a little alterations shop on W. Gray. Mr. Sung was the tailor in charge and proceeded to measure, tuck and pin the two pairs of pants I brought in. He told me when they would be ready and I asked him if I should pay now or when I pick them up. He said either way was fine, so I opted to pay in advance.

"How much?" I asked.
"One hundred dolla," he replied, without blinking an eye.
"Excuse me?! One hundred dollars?! To hem some pants??"
"Well, one hundred dolla for this pair and one hundred dolla for other pair. Two hundred dolla together."

Then he started chuckling. Oh I see we've got a pranster on our hands. Well played, Mr. Sung. Well played.

The Dating Game

I'm thinking about writing a blog series on dating. I'd be writing from a single girl's perspective, which means most of my experience is of the DON'T DO THIS variety. A lot of my advice is for guys because, let's face it, you guys are kinda running the show a lot of the time (even when the show seems to be cancelled or taking a long hiatus).

My only concerns are people getting ticked off or having their feelings hurt. Most of my readers are single, so it's an issue that is near and dear to our hearts. Because it's a sensitive subject, I don't want people to get their panties in a wad if my opinions don't exactly jive with theirs. And I'd want folks to remember these are, in fact, my OPINIONS. It's not the dating gospel, just the dating suggestion box.

So, what do QQ readers think? Can you handle it? Are you ok if some feathers get ruffled? Will you agree not to take anything I say TOO seriously, but to give it consideration and thought? Will you pledge to forward my dating series to "repeat dating offenders"? Ok, you don't have to pledge to do that...but at least you have the option. Consider it my gift to all you passive-aggressive types out there who want to seize the opportunity.

Thoughts?

I'm all right, don't I always seem to be?
Aren't I swinging on the stars?
Don't I wear them on my sleeve?
When you're looking for a crossroads,
it happens every day.
And whichever way you turn,
I'm gonna turn the other way.

Say it's over, say I'm dreaming,
Say I'm better than you left me.
Say you're sorry, I can take it.
Say you'll wait, say you won't.
Say you love me, say you don't.
I can make my own mistakes...
and learn to let it bend before it breaks.

~Brandi Carlile

There's a fungus among us

I'm about to bring up a polarizing subject. This is something that will probably have my readers divided into very vocal and opposing camps. I am referring, of course, to mushrooms.

Mushrooms might be my most favoritest vegetable-that's-not-really-a-vegetable. I like raw mushrooms. I like sauteed mushrooms. I like them in soup. I like them in salad. I like them on my chicken. I like them on my beef. I like them on my body (ok that just got weird. I was rolling with the Dr. Seuss thing a little too long.)

I like big mushrooms and I cannot lie. Them other brothas can't deny...ahem. Sorry. I got sidetracked again.

Today, I was eating the leftovers of a pretty darn impressive stirfry that I made last night. It had chicken and fresh green beans and MUSHROOMS and my first thought was "Dear Lean Cuisine, why do I let you do all the cooking when I'm so much better at it than you are?"

My second thought was "I luv u, little mushroom. I luv u so mush."

Awkwardly Hilarious

This sort of changes how I feel about Star Wars. And how I feel about birth announcements. Sometimes less is more. But less wouldn't be nearly as funny.

Because you can never have too many blog entries about boobs...

In case you missed it the first time around, you might want to read this entry before you move on to the rest of my story.

Ok, we all on the same page? mk, then.

A text conversation. From a guy to me.

Text from him: I just saw a bumper sticker that goes with the "boobs rock" shirt. It said "I love my tatas." It made me laugh. :)

Text from me: lol. I love that this is becoming a running joke.

Text from him: And that I thought of you?

Text from me: Well...that goes with the territory.

What NOT to Say: Part Two

I'm finally getting around to sharing the second part in our series on men saying exactly the wrong thing at exactly the wrong moment. You may want to refresh your memory on Part One, starring Awkward Guy.

That very same night I was at dinner with some friends. Two guys were sitting across from me at the table and we were all chatting about various subjects. In the middle of one conversation, one of the guys stopped, looked at my necklace and said "LJ, what exactly is that?" Ummm...it's a necklace, I pointed out. Now granted, it was an elaborate necklace with a ribbon rosette and asymmetrical style. "Some people would call it a 'statement' necklace," I elaborated. The second guy chimed in "what statement is it supposed to be making?"

"It's saying I'm fabulous," I quickly replied.
"No, it's not saying that," he said, without a pause.

Excuse me? I'd like to take this opportunity to make a Public Service Announcement. Any time a lady makes a reference about her fabulousness, DON'T REFUTE HER! Isn't this somewhere in the How to Talk to Ladies Manual or something?

Ok...back to my story. I'm pretty sure the look on my face communicated exactly how foolish his statement had been. But just in case, I followed up with a "are you sure that's really what you meant to say?"

"No...no...I meant that you don't NEED a necklace to prove how fabulous you are. The necklace doesn't define you. I mean it's not about the necklace..." he fumbled.

Uh huh.

Now this is the point at which the first guy could have really saved the day and make himself look really good at the same time. How many of you think he pulled it off? Any takers? I didn't think so.

"I think your necklace is...interesting," he said.

Wow. That's a fantastic compliment, if ever I heard one. It's like I'm wearing a science experiment. Interesting.

Now I will say these two guys did make a good effort at redeeming themselves. I pointed out to them the amazing cluelessness of their comments to me and the fact that they needed some serious help in how to compliment a lady. At which point, the first guy amended his statement to say "I think your necklace is lovely" and the second guy jumped in with "No, Laurie. YOU are lovely."

I think it's time for me to put on a workshop. If you need as much help as these two guys, sign up here. Ladies, feel free to submit applications on behalf of any men you know who need serious intervention.

Most Random Email Ever

I got this email last week from a complete stranger. At first I thought it was spam, but then realized it was genuine.

"Laurie,

I think we're just going to go ahead and rent a costume for you. Something very gypsy-looking. We have already ordered you a long black wig to wear under the turban."

He then proceeded to ask me for my exact measurements...height/weight/dress size/bust/waist/hips etc...

The whole thing really REALLY makes me want to know what role I'm playing...

Laurie and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week

I promise to get around to Part Two of my series. Look for it on Monday.

This week has been bad. Very, very bad. The kind of bad that doesn't happen very often.

Monday I was called the most horrible, foul names that any man can call a woman. Yes that word. AND that word. And don't forget to throw THAT word in front of them to make them even more powerful.

Tuesday was uneventful, except for the part where I was irrationally emotional and sad. Yay for being a girl!

Wednesday...well...we all know Wednesday is city council day. Nuff said.

Thursday I found out a coworker has a terminal illness and probably only has a few months to live. I also found out bad news about a job situation that left me feeling betrayed, lied to, cheated and disappointed.

Friday I was filling my gas tank and the automatic shut-off on the pump didn't work. Gas gushed out of my car and got all over me. I can still smell the fumes.

Let's hope this trend is a Monday through Friday thing and decides to take off for the weekend.

We Interrupt This Series

To bring you a video a friend sent me on my birthday...

What NOT to Say

Yesterday turned out to be a splendid day for watching guys put their feet directly into their mouths. In fact, there was so much foot-chewing that I'll have to serve this up in a two-part series.

Commence Part One:

The Scene: Singles Mingling After Church
The Characters: Me, My Roommate, Awkward Guy

So picture it, my roommate and I are standing there chatting after church when Awkward Guy approaches. He hovers, awkwardly (it's in his name, he can't help it). He says hello. We say hello. He says, to me, how was your week? I say, fine...how was yours? The conversation stalls. Cue more awkward. He turns to my roommate and says "hi, I don't think I know you." She introduces herself. Awkward pause. In desperation, he finally says "I like the stripes on your skirt." She says thanks. Then to completely doom the encounter, he follows up with this doozy:
"I mean, I notice those things because I've had a lot of friends who were girls who took me shopping with them. So I noticed the stripes. But I'm not gay."

Well, thanks for clarifying. The awkwardness is complete.

Tune in tomorrow for Part Two in our series What NOT to Say...

Don't Click!

A few days ago one of my coworkers anxiously asked me if her gmail account had sent me spam. I told her I did notice a spam message from her, but not to worry as I had simply deleted it. She expressed relief and told me that her fear had been heightened after getting an email from her mom about it.

The email said "Hi Honey, thanks for that link you sent me. I had no idea there was such a thing as female viagra."

I'm still chuckling.

One Word

The challenge? Answer each question with just one word.

1. Where is your cell phone? desk
2. Your significant other? gone
3. Your hair? fabulous!
4. Your mother? sassy
5. Your father? distant
6. Your favorite? what?
7. Your dream last night? unknown
8. Your favorite drink? coffee
9. Your dream/goal? family
10. What room you are in? newsroom
11. Your hobby? cooking
12. Your fear? failure
13. Where do you want to be in 6 years? content
14. Where were you last night? church
15. Something that you are not? shy
16. Muffins? please
17. Wish list item? babies
18. Where you grew up? home
19. Last thing you did? typed
20. What are you wearing? dress
21. Your TV? big
22. Your pets? none
23. Friends? supportive
24. Your life? confusing
25. Your mood? amused
26. Missing someone? intensely
27. Car? MINI!
28. Something you're not wearing? pants
29. Your favorite store? anthro
30. Your favorite color? red
33. When is the last time you laughed? today
34. Last time you cried? today
35. One place that I go to over and over? home
36. One person who texts me regularly? Melody
37. My favorite place to eat? lupe's
38. My favorite food? crawfish

Yes, You Have My Permission

Recently, I went out dancing with some friends. I was dancing with one of the guys in the group and he asked for some tips on how to be a better "lead" on the dance floor. I told him one of the first things he could do was use a firmer grip on my back to guide me. (Side note: too many guys have "limp hand" when dancing and it's a big pet peeve of mine.) I placed his hand low on my shoulder blade and told him to keep it firmly there.

He tried to follow my instructions, but inevitably his hand would lose grip and drift to the side, leaving me with little guidance through the dance. Finally I looked him in the eye and said "Ok, this may be awkward for you, but I want you to find my bra strap and put your hand on it and keep it there."

He appeared startled at first, but then quickly replied "oh I can do THAT!"

And henceforth the "limp hand" problem was solved.

Overheard in the Newsroom

One of my coworkers was on the cell phone earlier today. I was nearby and could hear every word said on this end of the conversation. I was a little startled when I heard this part of the conversation:

"Oh yeah, I was into that kind of stuff back in '68 and '69. You know...like getting multiple people to give you massages...or resolving conflict with pillow fights. All that 'Encounter Therapy.'"

Um. T.M.I.

OMG Seals!

Ok I realize this is probably not safe and definitely not something you should try at home, but it's quite possibly the cutest thing I've seen all year.

My own personal nightmare

This is the kind of thing that truly horrifies me. It's like a gigantic, deep-sea cockroach. I may never go in the ocean again.

Thank you, come again!

Wow. I'm averaging a blog update once a week. Remember the days when I blogged Monday through Friday? That was the halcyon age of the QQ. I'm sorry I don't blog more often. But I feel like nothing really amusing or interesting happens to me these days.

Of course, you all must realize that I'm posting today because something amusing or interesting DID happen to me recently. Grab your popcorn, folks. The QQ has a story.

There's this 40-something couple who are friends of mine. They have a couple of pre-teen daughters and the whole family is very fun and funny. I especially enjoy the husband and wife -- both are intelligent, quick-witted and engaging.

The other day I was chatting with the wife about life and love and other eloquent subjects. She started talking about marriage and told me she had decided that if she dies young, she wants her husband to immediately remarry. I asked her why. She said because her daughters need a mother and she doesn't want her husband to grow lonely or become bitter. I affirmed those as good reasons. She said she had even gone so far as to ask one of her friends to encourage her husband to quickly remarry and urge him through the process.

Then she gave me a little glance and said "oh by the way, you're on my list of potential matches for him."

Well...that just got awkward.

Dreams, I have Dreams...

The other day I had a dream that I was celebrating my birthday at a Chinese restaurant. The owners of the restaurant happened to be the parents of a good friend of mine...who is most definitely Latino.

So yes, in my dream, my friend's Hispanic immigrant parents were running an authentic Chinese restaurant (including cooking all the food) and hosting my party.

About halfway through the meal, my friend showed up wearing a tuxedo (minus the jacket), with his hair in an afro, singing showtunes. He was the restaurant's entertainment.

Let's not analyze this one, mk?

Jolly Good, Old Chap

Here in the newsroom, we have several interns who are given various projects to work on. We try to help them learn the process of producing news reports for radio, from start to finish. This includes coming up with story ideas, interviewing newsmakers and experts, editing digital audio, writing and voicing a story.

Last week, one of the interns finally produced a complete story, with her voice tracks recorded and edited together with sound bites. She asked one of my coworkers to listen to her story and critique it. My coworker happily complied, putting the headphones on and hitting play. She immediately started laughing and said "um, why did you record it in a British accent?!"

The intern proceeded to explain that she thought a British accent would be impressive and help her get a job in the industry.

As my coworker gently pointed out to her, "you're...not...British."

Rodeo Redux

I went to the rodeo again last night. Don't EVEN get me started on the nightmare that was traffic and parking. If I had known how bad it would be, I would never have gone.

The Black Eyed Peas put on a fun, high-energy show that had everybody dancing.

But the memorable incident of the evening for me was before the concert. I was standing in line to order a drink and the guy behind me leaned forward and asked "are you wearing perfume?"

Cue LJ's internal monologue "oh cmon...you can do better than THAT!"

But out loud I warily replied "maybe."

"What kind of perfume is it?" he asked.

"I honestly don't remember if I put on perfume this morning. But if I did, it's Romance by Ralph Lauren."

"Well I'm enjoying the aura of scent around you."

"Ok thanks."

And from there I moved forward in the line without looking back.

I didn't think much of the incident until this morning when I had a conversation with some coworkers about how a couple of people in our building use entirely too much cologne/perfume. All of a sudden it hit me: could I be one of those people?! Was Rodeo Guy actually pointing out that I wear too much perfume? I thought he was just trying to awkwardly hit on me...but what if the truth is much more insidious?

I'm having a identity scent crisis.

Tales of the Rodeo

I went to the rodeo last night. Of course, you know me. You know that a trip to the rodeo for me is bound to include SOME sort of amusing sidebar. This outing was no exception.

I went with a guy I know, who invited me to join some of his friends in one of the fancy schmancy box seats. We had a private room and seats, a full spread of food, drinks and dessert and a personal server waiting on all our needs and requests. Then what I like to call the Cart of Joy came rolling into the room. They had a mobile ice cream sundae station that they brought around to the boxes and let you select your ice cream flavors and toppings, all served up in an adorable plastic coyboy hat bowl.

But really one of the best parts of the rodeo was the tram ride from the parking lot to the stadium. My friend and I hopped on the very front row of the tram, so we were seated directly behind the driver. I glanced up and took a long look at the driver's shirt, then leaned over to my friend and said "um, does the back of his shirt say 'boobs'?"

"Wow. Yes, it does," my friend replied.

A few moments later, the driver leaned forward and we could see the rest of his shirt which said "Boobs Rock."

To which my friend responded "well, they do."

Fava beans and a nice Chianti

I have a stalker.

I mean, he's not really a stalker, but kinda. I don't want to blog about him too much because, let's face it, if he's a stalker worth his salt then he knows about this blog. He seems nice and harmless (isn't that what they always say in horror movies?). He calls me at the radio station about once a month and tells me what a great job I'm doing. We chat for a few minutes as he rambles about whatever story I did recently or how much he enjoys listening to me on the radio. Mostly I just say things like "oh thanks" or "that's nice" or "thanks so much for listening." After about five minutes of that, he runs out of things to say and promises to check in with me again soon.

Maybe I should tell him I "just want to be friends."

Macys Fashion Director

Macys Fashion Director: "

Vote for my outfit! If I get the most votes, I win a $500 Macy's card!"

Guns don't kill people...

Chuck Norris kills people.

Today is Chuck Norris' birthday. My favorite Chuck Norris moment was on a mission trip a couple years ago. Our team met up with missionaries in another country, including a 17-year-old missionary kid whose parents allowed him to join up with us and spend a couple weeks traveling through the Amazon region of Brazil.

One afternoon we were all hanging out, waiting for things to cool off again before we went out to the village. For some reason we started swapping Chuck Norris jokes. We were cracking ourselves up thinking of all the jokes we could remember.

Suddenly in the midst of our hilarity, our little meek and mild missionary kid calmly announced he had a Chuck Norris joke to share. We all looked at him in surprise...as this quiet sweet kid who was raised on the mission field said "Chuck Norris once visited the Virgin Islands. Now they're just the Islands."

It still makes me crack up every time.

Reasons for my absence and other things cleared up

Sorry it has been so long since I last posted. I've been on an unplanned blogging hiatus because of a death in my family. My Pawpaw passed away just over a week ago and was in the hospital for a couple weeks before that, so the rest of my life (including the QQ) has been on hold for a while.

I won't go into a lot of detail about the past few weeks or the funeral, except to tell one amusing story about my family.

The family needed to select music for Pawpaw's service and they wanted to use songs that he liked. They picked a certain hymn and then an instrumental piece he enjoyed. The only problem was the instrumental selection was on a homemade CD and it was a live version that included applause at the end. Not really appropriate for a funeral. So I was charged with finding a "clean" version of the song. My family said the song was called "Anchor Built."

I commenced my search on iTunes, to no avail. There was no such song by that name. I progressed to Google, which again turned up no results. I tried different variations of the song "Anchor Built" "Anchorbuilt" "Anchor-Built" "Anchor Build"...nothing.

In my experience, if Google doesn't know the song exists, you are out of luck.

In desperation, I played the song for my roomie, thinking she might be able to suggest a way we could cut off the applause at the end. As she listened to the song, she exclaimed "I know that! It's from the Mr. Holland's Opus soundtrack! It's the clarinet solo!"

We quickly turned to youtube, typing in my search terms "Mr. Holland's Opus clarinet solo" and eureka! It was, in fact the same song. However, I still didn't know the same of the song so I scrolled through the dozens of comments to see if I could discover the solution to the puzzle.

And there it was. The answer to my search. "What is the name of this song?" a commenter asked. "Stranger on the shore," an expert answered. "It's by the musician Acker Bilk."

ACKER BILK!!!!!!!!!

My family is going to make me crazy one day. I can tell already.

Close Encounters

Today I was covering a political event, interviewing candidates and milling about in a room full of people. At one point, I was standing alone off to the side, recording the sound of the busy room. A man walked up, stood directly in front of me and announced "I'm your cousin."

I laughed and said "oh really..."
I thought he was about to make some joke about having the last name Johnson or something like that. I was prepared to be unimpressed. Instead, he looked me in the eye and said "Yes. I'm your cousin. I'm Shane."

I literally gasped and threw my arms around him. It WAS my cousin Shane, who I haven't seen, talked to or heard from since I was 12 years old! I have no idea how he recognized me. We chatted for just a few minutes -- there wasn't time for a lengthy conversation. I just kept staring at him, amazed by the seemingly random encounter and the rush of emotions I was experiencing.

You see for a number of reasons, my father cut off ties with his family members when I was a young girl. As a result of that family break, I never saw my cousins again. It wasn't my fault and it wasn't my cousins' fault that we parted ways -- but we suffered the consequences of the separation. It wasn't until today that I realized I've missed my connection to my cousins. Growing up, we weren't close. We lived in different cities and only saw one another a few times a year. But there is something special about having family and relatives who are connected to you in a way your friends can never be.

I didn't realize how deeply that affected me -- it hit me today that it was a loss I had never really grieved. It's not so much that I missed Shane, specifically (although seeing him again was wonderful). It's that I miss having those bonds with people who are irreversibly connected to me, my history and my blood.

Maybe I miss the idea of what was lost -- images of picnics under the pecan tree in my grandmother's back yard -- sharing the excitement of Christmas with other kids my age -- enjoying my role as princess among a passel of boy cousins -- those are the mental images flying through my mind today. It's the loss of what was and also what could have been --lost possibilities that are probably idealized, mostly unrealized and certainly a defining part of who I am.

Oh what a day is today!
Nothing can stand in my way.
Now that you've shipped out from under my skin,
I think I'm ready to win.

Oh what a night is tonight!
I think I'm ready to fight.
Now that my broken bones all have been healed,
I think I'm starting to feel...

Something good...
Something good...
Now that you're gone, I can roll on to something good.

Oh what a way that we died!
Plenty of tears were supplied.
My eyes are wrung out and dry as a bone,
and I taste much better alone.

Now that you're gone, I can roll on to something good.

~Ingrid Michaelson

The Lady Doth Protest!

Back in December, I won the grand prize at my office Christmas party. It included a fancy dinner for two, transportation to a show at the Wortham Center and a suite at a luxury hotel. I decided to invite a guy friend of mine to join me for the dinner and show portion of the evening. We'll call him Tom, since that's his name.

So Tom and I enjoyed a really nice dinner, a chauffeured towncar to the Wortham and a fun live performance. After the show, while waiting for our car to pick us up (that sounds so important, doesn't it?), we were chatting with some work acquaintances. The subject of my grand prize came up and they wanted to know what all was included in the package.

"Well," I said, "it included dinner at a very nice restaurant, transportation down here and I get a one-night stay in a suite at the hotel."

"A one-night-stand?!" one of the guys exclaimed. Then he winked knowingly at Tom, shook his hand and proclaimed "Congratulations, man! You go! All right...a one-night stand!"

Cue Laurie turning about ten shades of red and stammering out a protest, while Tom is laughing and shaking the guy's hand.

How do I get myself into these messes? Sigh.

Another Day in the Life...

I finally have blog material again. Shall we commence? Ok.

Last Thursday I was working in the studio, minding my own business, doing my air shift. I finished a break and turned off my mic. Just then, two of my bosses walked into the studio and stared at me. I nervously asked if everything was ok. One boss said "I have something to tell you and it's going to give you a heart attack." The other boss snickered and said "I can't wait to see the look on her face when she hears this..."

Needless to say my heart started pounding a little faster.

Boss #1 then tells me that one of the cast members of an extremely popular radio program has been delayed because of the snowstorm in DC and his flight will not land in time for him to appear on stage at a live event here in Houston. His absence leaves a gaping hole in the event. The show must go on, but what to do without him? Then she says "we want you to go on in his place."

EXCUSE ME??

"Yes, we'd like for you to head over to the Wortham Center right now and start rehearsing with the rest of the cast. You will have a script to work from and you won't have to worry about memorizing anything, but you should head there now to get familiar with the material and the rest of the team."

So in a daze, I turned off my computer, handed over my air shift to someone else, went to the Wortham Center and calmly announced that I was Carl Kasell's understudy for the live taping of Wait Wait Don't Tell Me.

I spent the next two hours backstage, reading scripts, prepping for the show, joining the cast for dinner and preparing in my own dressing room.

About 15 minutes before show time, Carl Kasell walked in, hurriedly changed his tie and was briefed just in time to make it on the show. I never went on.

BUT, although it would have been a blast to do the show with a live audience, I was so relieved. I kept imagining walking out there to a sold-out audience with the knowledge that every person in the room was wishing I was an old white guy.

Behind the News

Ooops! I did it again!

Sometimes technology works against us.

A couple of days ago I had plans to meet up with some girlfriends for dinner after work. The other girls went a bit early to catch happy hour and I planned to meet them a bit later. About half an hour before I got off work I sent a text message to one of the girls, asking her to order a Texas martini for me before happy hour ended. I never heard back from her and just assumed that she didn't hear her phone in the noisy restaurant.

The next morning I got a text from a friend of mine who is a missionary attending seminary.
He wanted to know why I had asked him to order a martini for me.

*Slaps hand to forehead AGAIN*

Tele-Miscommunication

Sometimes technology works against us.

The other day I was searching through my call history on my phone, looking for a specific number. A few moments later I carried my phone (along with all my groceries) into the house. As I was putting my groceries away, my phone rang and I looked and saw the person calling me was a guy I used to be in a relationship with.

I answered the phone with that tone in my voice reserved for these situations...you know the one that says "hello, I may or may not be happy to hear from you but WHY are you calling me?!"

"Hey, is everything ok?" he asked.
"Yes, everything is fine. What's going on?" I replied.
"You just called me," he said.
"I didn't call you. You're calling me," I responded.
"No. You just called me and left a long message with nothing but silence. I was worried that something was wrong or that you might be in trouble. Are you ok?" the Ex said with confusion.

(This is where I slapped my hand to my forehead and realized what must have happened.)

"I'm sorry. I didn't intend to call you. I think I must have bumped something on my phone and called you without realizing it," I said, sheepishly.

"Oh. Ok. Well good because I was worried. Next time you call if you're in trouble, leave a message."

Tune in tomorrow for the next installment of Tele-Miscommunication...

To Dad

All in all it wasn't bad
All in all it wasn't good, but I still care

That's the problem with the days
They're never long enough to say
What it is you never said
All the books you never read

I throw myself into the wind
Hoping somebody might pick me up and carry me again

Where are you now? Do you let me down?
Do you make me grieve for you?
Do I make you proud?
Do you get me now?
Am I your pride and joy?

I believe this to be true
There's nothing sacred, nothing new
No one tells you when it's time
There are no warnings, only signs

And you know that you're alone
You're not a child anymore, but you're still scared

All your mountains turn to rocks
All your oceans turn to drops
They are nothing like you thought
You can't be something you are not

Life is not a looking glass
Don't get tangled in your past, like I am learning not to

Where are you now? Do you let me down?
Do you make me grieve for you?
Do I make you proud?
Do you get me now?
Am I your pride and joy?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1g7PrM8GOhQ

TMI

My coworkers were just having a conversation about our aging relatives. My grampa recently was ill, but is now recovering. One of my coworkers shared that his grandmother's health has greatly improved, but her mind has slipped. Now she has a habit of sharing a little too openly about her past.

One day the family was together and gramma (who was 83 at the time) started talking about some of her boyfriends from when she was young. She concluded her story with a big sigh and said "I miss having sexual relations."

GRAMMA!

What's in a name?

I've been thinking about changing my on-air name. It would be nice to have a little more anonymity when in public and not have to worry about protecting my identity. I was thinking of something hyphenated...that way my radio listeners will just think it's my married name and it won't be too confusing for people.

What do y'all think of Laurie Anderson-Mabie Warner...? Too wordy?

Do I KNOW you??!

I've been pretty stressed lately and decided I needed a day of self-nurturing on Monday. I spent the day doing things that make me happy and spending time with people who encourage me. I decided the perfect wrap-up to the day would be a massage.

I made an appointment at a location I hadn't been to before and looked forward to a relaxing and soothing experience.

I got there, checked in, met the massage therapist and settled in. She asked me a few questions about where I was tense and what my trouble spots were. She then asked me if I ever grind my teeth. "No, I don't think so," I said. "Do you clench your jaw?" she asked. "Oh, yes. Yes, sometimes I do clench my jaw when I'm concentrating," I replied. "Ok, I'm going to give you a small facial massage and work on your jaw if that's ok." "Yes, that's fine."

There I am, on the table, breathing in the aromatherapy lavender scents, eyes closed, waiting for her to work her magic. "Open your mouth and relax your jaw," she says. I obey.

And she promptly shoves her finger in my mouth and pushes hard into the joint where my lower and upper jaws connect! "How does that feel?" she murmurs. Ummm....awkward and uncomfortable, I'm thinking. Out loud "uhhh...iss ok I guessh...ish difficult to shay how thish feels," I slur, talking around the probing digit.

I don't think I'll try that again.

Warning

This post may not be suitable for all audiences. Namely, guys. Well, actually I'm pretty sure you guys can handle it...but I wanted to put the disclaimer out there just to cover my...ahem...bases.

Chalk this up under the heading of Things You Do NOT Want to Hear When Meeting Your New Gynecologist: "Ok, regarding sexual activity...let me just look over your paperwork here...oh wait...are you THE Laurie Johnson?! I listen to you every day!"

Let's just say there are some places where I prefer NOT to be recognized.

This makes me happy

OK Go - This Too Shall Pass from OK Go on Vimeo.

Available in Blood or Crip

The QQ Welcomes Guest Bloggers

A guest blogger contributed today's entry. He asked to remain anonymous, although I informed him that if he allowed me to post his name I'm pretty sure he'd never get shot down again.

I have to be honest and say it's extremely humbling to post his entry because I know how far I fall short of his list. Nevertheless, I give you the following from an amazing guest blogger.


10 Things that are Great about Single Christian Women

1. They care about modesty.
2. They want the men in their lives to be leaders and they genuinely want to follow them.
3. They say no to a lot of dates. Nobody knows why, they just do, get over it.
4. They are really sweet when they shoot you down.
5. They are servants.
6. They are patient in waiting for a husband.
7. They take care of the children, elderly, and men in the church.
8. They love to cook for the men in their lives.
9. They hold the men in their lives accountable.
10. They don't settle.

Who and Who? Wow.

Don't worry if it's not good enough for anyone else to hear

"...in bed"

You know that whole fortune cookie thing people do where they tag on the words "in bed" to the end of the fortune? Beware, this can backfire.

Yesterday several of my coworkers went to lunch to discuss a project that's underway. They were at a Chinese restaurant and one of my colleagues reminded the others of the "in bed" gag. Just then, the elderly professorial gentleman at the table with them read his fortune out loud.

"You can't always please others, so just please yourself."

Christmas "Surprises"

My mom called me last night as I was driving home and asked if I was warm.
"Well Mom, it's pretty cold outside and I'm wearing a coat, but my feet are a bit chilly right now," I said.
"Have you ever thought that a snuggie would make a great Christmas present?" she asked.
"No. No, I have not ever thought that. I'm pretty sure a snuggie would NOT make a great Christmas present," I answered.
"Are you sure you wouldn't love to get a leopard-print snuggie for Christmas?" she asked again.
"I'm positive that is not what I want for Christmas," I declared emphatically.
"Well, you better get excited about it...because that's what gramma is giving you..." she snickered.
Yes, my mom snickered at me.
And yes, I'm getting a leopard-print snuggie for Christmas. Whether I like it or not.

I drank one of my tears today.
It dropped into my coffee cup this morning while I was grieving over decisions made and losses suffered.
I gulped it down anyway.
If life were a book, that would be poetic.
But, in reality, I think it's just pathetic.

Facebook Updates I'm tempted to Post But Won't for the Sake of Decency and Harmony

"Laurie thinks you're not nearly as funny as you think you are."

"Laurie wants to xoxo."

"Laurie finds your fashion decisions highly questionable."

"Laurie had Sex in a Pan. Twice."

Ooops! It happened AGAIN!

Ok I'm starting to think there's some sort of conspiracy going on.

Yesterday my phone rang at the office. I answered the call and it was a work colleague who wanted to talk about a story idea for the news. After chatting about the story, he casually said "so this is off the clock and off the record, but I really enjoyed seeing you at that event last week." "Oh. Yeah. It was nice running into you," I said. "Yes. I was standing behind you the whole time and I started getting a little bored during the event until I realized what a nice view I had looking at you from back there," he replied.

Ummmm. Wow.

Giddy

I'm in a new relationship and it's giving me that giddy feeling where I smile all the time, even though it's definitely still in the starting stages of getting to know each other. When we're apart, I can't wait to be together. When we're together, I feel a little awkward but so happy and excited. I know the awkwardness will wear off eventually and even the giddiness too. But I hope it will settle into something fun and long-term that retains a little bit of mystery.

I'm not ready to call it love, but I really REALLY like my Droid.

RETREAT!

I went on a church retreat with friends this weekend. We spent the weekend in the country, mostly just relaxing and playing games and enjoying a time of intentional restfulness.
While on the retreat, I met a new guy who I hadn't seen before. We were chatting and going through the usual get-to-know-ya questions.

We were out on the porch and I turned to look out at the pasture and take in the beauty of the outdoors. He was sitting in a chair behind me and I realized I was standing right in front of him, blocking his view of the scene. I quickly stepped to the side and apologized to him for blocking him.

He gave me a huge grin and said he didn't mind me standing in front of him as he had been enjoying the view from behind and that I was welcome to stand in front of him any time.

Now I ask you, how does a girl even respond to that?

I saw the movie 300

FAIL

Be My Guest

Let me just preface this blog entry by saying men are gross. That should clue you in to the nature of this story, continue reading at your own peril.

I recently hosted a small birthday party for a friend. As a group, we went to dinner, to be followed by dessert at my house. Circumstantially, I was the only girl in the group who stuck around for dessert (and I sorta HAD to be there since it was at my house and all).

So there I am, with seven guys circling the dessert like vultures. Or perhaps more like sharks scenting blood in the water. After the brownies were cut, I retreated to the other side of the table in fear that I might lose a limb in the feeding frenzy.

Once they were sufficiently sated with brownies and ice cream, they decided to lounge about and watch TV. Now this does not bother me one bit, except for the fact that one of the guys (who I have only met once or twice) made himself EXTREMELY comfortable on my couch. Sorry for the graphic description here, but the way he rolled around on my sofa made me think of a walrus attempting to mate with a sea serpent. He pretty much ravaged the couch.

Did I mention he had a cold? Because he did. And he kept loudly blowing his nose into a napkin. Again, I don't have a problem with that. Except for the fact that after he left, I found his snotty used napkin open and exposed ON THE COFFEE TABLE!!! EWWWWWWW! I almost gagged. I picked up two paper plates and scooped the napkin up to throw it away. Then I proceeded to wipe down the coffee table with 409 and spray Lysol all over the couch.

And don't even get me started on the other guy at the party who kept farting loudly while we played games. He blamed it on the ice cream.

And they wonder why they're single...

I'M ALIVE!

Hello Blog-World!

So much has changed in the past few weeks since I saw you last. I've accepted a job in Chicago, a city that I absolutely LOVE, and will be moving after the New Year. I'm super excited about this!

Or you know, I'm just making that whole job thing up and trying to make it seem like I had a flashy excuse for my blogging absence. The truth is I have been so busy lately that I haven't even had time to generate funny stories, let alone blog about them.

But I'm back in the saddle and promise new hilarity soon. And in case you're still confused, that whole thing about Chicago was a joke. Houston is home. For now.