Hope it's a juicy one...
Friday, June 29, 2007
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Ten reasons a job in the BDSM community would be more pleasant than my job at the moment...
For those of you reading from the office that don’t know what BDSM is – don’t google it from there. For those of you that know me and have assumptions about what my job would be in such situations, please put your assumptions aside, you don't know as much as you think you do anyway :)...
1.) The intensely harsh beating I was taking would be in some way, enjoyable and consensual.
2.) I would have a spectacular set of tools for dealing with unresponsive, condescending older men.
3.) My vaguely inappropriate collection of footwear and accessories would get waaaaay more use.
4.) When I wanted to repeatedly beat someone upside the head, I could, and it would be okay, perhaps even encouraged!
5.) When someone gives me the “up down” look, as we refer to it at the office, it would be GOOD because I was rocking my cleavage, not BAD because I was rocking my cleavage.
6.) My show clothes wouldn’t have “Staff” embroidered on them.
7.) If I was roped into something, it would have cool knots and would in some way bring me pleasure.
8.) I probably wouldn’t have to deal with so much freight.
9.) I would finally have somewhere to wear my furry chipmunk costume…oh wait...that’s something else. Damn.
10.) I would have a safe word. And be able to use it.
1.) The intensely harsh beating I was taking would be in some way, enjoyable and consensual.
2.) I would have a spectacular set of tools for dealing with unresponsive, condescending older men.
3.) My vaguely inappropriate collection of footwear and accessories would get waaaaay more use.
4.) When I wanted to repeatedly beat someone upside the head, I could, and it would be okay, perhaps even encouraged!
5.) When someone gives me the “up down” look, as we refer to it at the office, it would be GOOD because I was rocking my cleavage, not BAD because I was rocking my cleavage.
6.) My show clothes wouldn’t have “Staff” embroidered on them.
7.) If I was roped into something, it would have cool knots and would in some way bring me pleasure.
8.) I probably wouldn’t have to deal with so much freight.
9.) I would finally have somewhere to wear my furry chipmunk costume…oh wait...that’s something else. Damn.
10.) I would have a safe word. And be able to use it.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
And the award for best use of Madlibs goes to....
I used to be a production manager for a regional theatre. This particular job fits very nicely into my career path, which can best be described as, I only accept positions where everything is my problem, all of the bucks stop with me, and I am called upon to set up a coffee stations from time to time.
Every night after rehearsal or a show, the stage manager submits a production report to yours truly - the production manager - and the head of every other production related department. During a particularly festive production I had an SM who wrote the following at the bottom of the report...
________________________________________________
Heather: As it's a slow night, I've decided to give Heather her own category. Please feel free to write little notes to her in this space. As you probably don't have time to think of something to say----I'll give you the format.Every night after rehearsal or a show, the stage manager submits a production report to yours truly - the production manager - and the head of every other production related department. During a particularly festive production I had an SM who wrote the following at the bottom of the report...
________________________________________________
Heather, I seem to have a problem getting my______________to work properly. Could you_________or__________me soon. Also I want to set up a _________meeting between that _________ you call a _____________. Would___________be OK with____________ or will I have to ___________myself? Thanks awfully. P.S. You look _____________ in ___________. :)
____________________________________________
Madlibs. Do not underestimate their use in a professional setting, and John Hurley, wherever the hell you are, you kick ass.
Sunday, June 24, 2007
Joy for Monday! lllllllllllllllama!
Awwwww......Baby Llama! Super Cute! Feel the joy? YAY for Monday!
Although - llamas get sad and I hear, die, if they live alone. I hope this li'l guy gets a buddy soon! Otherwise - two words - llama jerky.
Saturday, June 23, 2007
Judgement, Hat of
Those of you that know me, know that my mom died recently, in a vaguely long and drawn out fashion. (This is obviously not the "Joy for Monday" post...bear with me. I suspect it will get funnier, maybe not though. Continue at your own risk. There are some very funny monkeys below if you prefer that.) If you know me, you also know that I did not have a spectacular, or even an averagely bad relationship with my mom.
My mother was a kind woman, her intentions were the best, her mind was open, and she loved me immensely in her fashion, which in many books makes me a lucky lucky girl. That said - she was a disastrous parent in most ways. The best example I can give for the purposes of this post is that I, in my entire life, have never had a conversation with my mother that wasn't about her. How can that be? you might ask. Case in point: when I turned thirty, and was legitimately having some trouble with it, I had gone on one of my rare trips home and mentioned my struggle to my mother. I am not a confider in my parents (for good reason - but I may explain that at another time), mentioning this was a BIG DEAL. Her response was...
"Well, you know every time YOU turn a year older, I turn a year older too."
This exact type of reaction is merely one of the reasons that I, after years of using many tactics to come up with some sort of daughterly relationship with her - opted out. Her response to my (basically subconscious) decision was to use all of the family holiday letters to mention how uncommunicative I was, passive-aggressively call me out for being terrible at rare family functions, and end many conversations and social outings with "I don't understand why you are so MEAN to me." Now - you may think that yes, my treatment of her does sound mean, but in defense of myself, I will share that I had done legitimately everything within my young power to have a tolerable relationship here. It was just not in the cards, and with a woman as intense as my mom was, you have to draw the line somewhere.
However - due to my mother's kindness and generosity, she was loved and trusted by many. Her friends, save for one - to whom I owe a lifelong debt of gratitude - all knew nothing of me but what she told them. Her best day-to-day friend, also her housekeeper, who I will call Julie, heard the most of how mean and ungrateful "How sharper than a serpent's tooth...blah blah blah..." I was.
Which brings me to the events of the hour.
I got the call, from the lifelong-debt-of-gratitude friend , that my mother was really dying for real. I flew to my parent's home immediately and went straight to the hospital. My mother was in ICU, sedated, unaware, tubed up, the whole nine yards of all of the stuff. The first time I went home I was there for a week. We (my parent's friends, me , my father and the brotherman) taking care of each other. I was pretty much, as you would expect, rocked out of my world. I am, however, a professional planner and all of those skills (skillz?) served me well while I navigated all of the stuff that has to happen in a situation like this, while I was also attempting to keep everything in my "everything-is-time-sensitive" job afloat.
So - here I am at my "we-have-a-terrible-relationship-why-are-you-so-mean-to-me " mother's deathbed, with all of the relatives giving me the "nice-of-you-to-show-up" eye. This was not, what we commonly refer to as "fun." We go into the terrible horrible meeting of the Council, where my father, very bravely, stepped up and told the doctors that my mother, his wife of 35 years, should be "do-not-resuscitate." This was an emotional moment, to say the least. We all file out into the waiting room, me at the end of the line of council folk. When I get there, Julie the housekeeper is crying. Hasn't hit weeping yet, but she obviously needs some comfort. I, tenuously, still seem to have my shit together, so I go over to comfort her. I put my arm around her and grab her hand. I tell her how important she was to my mother and how much my mom loved her. She looks up with her big watery eyes, sniffling, and says to me....
"You know, Heather, I hated you for so many years because of how terribly you treated your mom."
I believe she followed up with something about how I wasn't the evil spawn of Satan destined to burn in hell while bound to a rock with my eyes plucked out by vicious tropical birds and was actually quite impressive, but I have no idea, because my soul had frozen in that moment. I excused myself to make a phone call, got up and slowly walked out of the waiting room, and then barrelled down the hall, blind and hyperventilating. My younger brother (thanks Brotherman) took one look at me, physically grabbed me with what I assume was basically all of his strength, and held me while I totally and utterly lost it, in the privacy of some random corner of the hospital.
So - Mom didn't die that week. And I flew home. And then flew back and forth. And waited. And flew back and forth. She died a few weeks later. And we planned the memorial.
At which point it was deemed important by Julie that my mother's "Red-Hat-Lady"* hat appear at her memorial service. This fact was communicated to me by the Brotherman. To which I responded "Well- then I hope Julie brings her big Hat of Judgement." Beat...beat...and then the Brotherman and I both bust out laughing uncontrollably...
I have since let go of my rage about this particular moment, Julie knew what she knew, and said what she said and has taken very good care of both of my parents. If that's the arrow I have to take to have the life I have and love, then so be it. But.... the Hat of Judgement! What a life it has!
The mighty "Hat of Judgement" has taken on a life of its own. Having shared this story with a few friends in Chicago, the Hat of Judgement is getting around. There is a man with whom I am acquainted that heard this story before he met me. Upon our first meeting, before hands were shaken or greetings exchanged, we physically tipped our hats of judgement at each other. We now speak of Flipflops of Despair, Boots of Shame, and my personal favorite runner up to the hat, the Cloak of Loathing.
So - the next time you are in a meeting, or onsite, or out in public, and someone is particularly evil to you or simply too dumb to exist in your personal space (yeah- pretend you are all above that - but you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about,) I say - tip your hat of judgement.
"I tip my hat to you sir."
Professional, polite, and will make you feel better on the inside.
*Hats! The Red Hat Society Musical at the Royal George Theatre, 1641 North Halsted Street, Chicago, IL
My mother was a kind woman, her intentions were the best, her mind was open, and she loved me immensely in her fashion, which in many books makes me a lucky lucky girl. That said - she was a disastrous parent in most ways. The best example I can give for the purposes of this post is that I, in my entire life, have never had a conversation with my mother that wasn't about her. How can that be? you might ask. Case in point: when I turned thirty, and was legitimately having some trouble with it, I had gone on one of my rare trips home and mentioned my struggle to my mother. I am not a confider in my parents (for good reason - but I may explain that at another time), mentioning this was a BIG DEAL. Her response was...
"Well, you know every time YOU turn a year older, I turn a year older too."
This exact type of reaction is merely one of the reasons that I, after years of using many tactics to come up with some sort of daughterly relationship with her - opted out. Her response to my (basically subconscious) decision was to use all of the family holiday letters to mention how uncommunicative I was, passive-aggressively call me out for being terrible at rare family functions, and end many conversations and social outings with "I don't understand why you are so MEAN to me." Now - you may think that yes, my treatment of her does sound mean, but in defense of myself, I will share that I had done legitimately everything within my young power to have a tolerable relationship here. It was just not in the cards, and with a woman as intense as my mom was, you have to draw the line somewhere.
However - due to my mother's kindness and generosity, she was loved and trusted by many. Her friends, save for one - to whom I owe a lifelong debt of gratitude - all knew nothing of me but what she told them. Her best day-to-day friend, also her housekeeper, who I will call Julie, heard the most of how mean and ungrateful "How sharper than a serpent's tooth...blah blah blah..." I was.
Which brings me to the events of the hour.
I got the call, from the lifelong-debt-of-gratitude friend , that my mother was really dying for real. I flew to my parent's home immediately and went straight to the hospital. My mother was in ICU, sedated, unaware, tubed up, the whole nine yards of all of the stuff. The first time I went home I was there for a week. We (my parent's friends, me , my father and the brotherman) taking care of each other. I was pretty much, as you would expect, rocked out of my world. I am, however, a professional planner and all of those skills (skillz?) served me well while I navigated all of the stuff that has to happen in a situation like this, while I was also attempting to keep everything in my "everything-is-time-sensitive" job afloat.
So - here I am at my "we-have-a-terrible-relationship-why-are-you-so-mean-to-me " mother's deathbed, with all of the relatives giving me the "nice-of-you-to-show-up" eye. This was not, what we commonly refer to as "fun." We go into the terrible horrible meeting of the Council, where my father, very bravely, stepped up and told the doctors that my mother, his wife of 35 years, should be "do-not-resuscitate." This was an emotional moment, to say the least. We all file out into the waiting room, me at the end of the line of council folk. When I get there, Julie the housekeeper is crying. Hasn't hit weeping yet, but she obviously needs some comfort. I, tenuously, still seem to have my shit together, so I go over to comfort her. I put my arm around her and grab her hand. I tell her how important she was to my mother and how much my mom loved her. She looks up with her big watery eyes, sniffling, and says to me....
"You know, Heather, I hated you for so many years because of how terribly you treated your mom."
I believe she followed up with something about how I wasn't the evil spawn of Satan destined to burn in hell while bound to a rock with my eyes plucked out by vicious tropical birds and was actually quite impressive, but I have no idea, because my soul had frozen in that moment. I excused myself to make a phone call, got up and slowly walked out of the waiting room, and then barrelled down the hall, blind and hyperventilating. My younger brother (thanks Brotherman) took one look at me, physically grabbed me with what I assume was basically all of his strength, and held me while I totally and utterly lost it, in the privacy of some random corner of the hospital.
So - Mom didn't die that week. And I flew home. And then flew back and forth. And waited. And flew back and forth. She died a few weeks later. And we planned the memorial.
At which point it was deemed important by Julie that my mother's "Red-Hat-Lady"* hat appear at her memorial service. This fact was communicated to me by the Brotherman. To which I responded "Well- then I hope Julie brings her big Hat of Judgement." Beat...beat...and then the Brotherman and I both bust out laughing uncontrollably...
I have since let go of my rage about this particular moment, Julie knew what she knew, and said what she said and has taken very good care of both of my parents. If that's the arrow I have to take to have the life I have and love, then so be it. But.... the Hat of Judgement! What a life it has!
The mighty "Hat of Judgement" has taken on a life of its own. Having shared this story with a few friends in Chicago, the Hat of Judgement is getting around. There is a man with whom I am acquainted that heard this story before he met me. Upon our first meeting, before hands were shaken or greetings exchanged, we physically tipped our hats of judgement at each other. We now speak of Flipflops of Despair, Boots of Shame, and my personal favorite runner up to the hat, the Cloak of Loathing.
So - the next time you are in a meeting, or onsite, or out in public, and someone is particularly evil to you or simply too dumb to exist in your personal space (yeah- pretend you are all above that - but you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about,) I say - tip your hat of judgement.
"I tip my hat to you sir."
Professional, polite, and will make you feel better on the inside.
*Hats! The Red Hat Society Musical at the Royal George Theatre, 1641 North Halsted Street, Chicago, IL
Friday, June 22, 2007
This is one of the most horrifying things that I have ever seen...
Whatever you do, don't click on this picture.Be afraid. Be very afraid. the monkeys are coming to get you.
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Ten things I feel like judging today...
1.) Birds...Terrifying and Unnatural. Yes. They are. Don't fight me on this.
2.) High Tea...Subversively intriguing, and leeetle tiny sandwiches!
3.) Fingerpaints...YAY!
4.) MST3K shorts...freaking ass brilliant. (seriously - find them and watch them - you will be pleased)
5.) Foy Boys...Double YAY!
6.) Bunnyocalypse...Terrible, shameful and tragic. OH THE HUMANITY!
7.) Chicago Style Pizza...nasty. We call it Miss Jackson.
8.) The mere existence of Legally Blonde: The Musical...appalling.
9.) Pump up the Volume...Slaterylicious.
10.) Little old men in hats.....cockle warming.
2.) High Tea...Subversively intriguing, and leeetle tiny sandwiches!
3.) Fingerpaints...YAY!
4.) MST3K shorts...freaking ass brilliant. (seriously - find them and watch them - you will be pleased)
5.) Foy Boys...Double YAY!
6.) Bunnyocalypse...Terrible, shameful and tragic. OH THE HUMANITY!
7.) Chicago Style Pizza...nasty. We call it Miss Jackson.
8.) The mere existence of Legally Blonde: The Musical...appalling.
9.) Pump up the Volume...Slaterylicious.
10.) Little old men in hats.....cockle warming.
YAY! Cowboy!
Can't sleep. Stupid job. It really HAS eaten my soul today it seems...so I bring you - COWBOY! Just for fun. Who doesn't like a good cowboy? Even if it is just his hat.
For those of you that have shared a dinner theatre experience, I will leave you with the following song, which I have been inspired by this photo to post, to get stuck in your head...
Catchy right?
Although - this leads me to wonder how a musical version of the Donner party story would work....
Regardless. Hope YOU are sleeping. And NOT being eaten by cannibals.
Photo - foundmagazine.com
For those of you that have shared a dinner theatre experience, I will leave you with the following song, which I have been inspired by this photo to post, to get stuck in your head..."We gotta make it through the winter
Or we won't get lovin' in the spring.
We gotta make it make it through the winter
Or Millie says we won't get a doggone
Millie says we won't get a doggone
Millie says we won't get a doggone thing."
Catchy right?
Although - this leads me to wonder how a musical version of the Donner party story would work....
Regardless. Hope YOU are sleeping. And NOT being eaten by cannibals.
Photo - foundmagazine.com
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
Joy for Monday! Yeah - I said Monday.
Yeah - I'm a day late with the joy. So kill me. Here are some ducks and a kitten...awwww. Feel better? Full of joy? Me neither, but what do you expect for a Tuesday. Good luck to you with the rest of your week.
(But seriously - totally fluffy and cute ...right? Yeah - I hear you giggling on the on the inside)
Photo - letsbefriends.blogspot.com
Monday, June 18, 2007
Ten men that I have known...
1,) The genius farm boy boxer man
2.) The angry cycling Spaniard
3.) The guy that joined the circus
4.) The tragedy of my early twenties guy
5.) The New Orleans guy
6.) The 'stache
7.) The guy that got my purse stolen
8.) The pagan guy
9.) The guy that gave me food poisoning
10.) The OTHER pagan guy
Friday, June 15, 2007
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Ten things I know....
1.) Stopping on rollerskates requires a special type of coordination that I do not possess.
2.) If you brine a 20 pound turkey in a 5 gallon bucket, it is not smart to flip the turkey over at 5:00am at the top of three flights of stairs. It is, in fact, quite messy.
3.) The frost-your-own cupcake station is always a crowd pleaser.
4.) The Game of Life - so fun when you were a kid - is actually quite depressing as an adult.
5.) You really can't have too many types of lipstick.
6.) What Jesus would do.
7.) When executed correctly, both glitter and fishnets are appropriate professional office attire. Chainmail is pushing it.
8.) It is superfun to throw a Christmas tree off of your top floor porch.
9.) If you ask in just the right way, you can in fact have your eye doctor drop your contact lenses off at your house.
10.) You are super attractive and too smart for your own good.
2.) If you brine a 20 pound turkey in a 5 gallon bucket, it is not smart to flip the turkey over at 5:00am at the top of three flights of stairs. It is, in fact, quite messy.
3.) The frost-your-own cupcake station is always a crowd pleaser.
4.) The Game of Life - so fun when you were a kid - is actually quite depressing as an adult.
5.) You really can't have too many types of lipstick.
6.) What Jesus would do.
7.) When executed correctly, both glitter and fishnets are appropriate professional office attire. Chainmail is pushing it.
8.) It is superfun to throw a Christmas tree off of your top floor porch.
9.) If you ask in just the right way, you can in fact have your eye doctor drop your contact lenses off at your house.
10.) You are super attractive and too smart for your own good.
Monday, June 11, 2007
Joy for Monday! Call forth and smite!
Avenging Unicorn Play SetEveryone wants an imaginary unicorn friend that they can call forth to smite their enemies. The Avenging Unicorn Play Set has everything you need to use the power of the unicorn to rid your life of irritations. Put the posable, 3-3/4" tall, hard vinyl unicorn on a flat surface and then impale one of three 3-1/8" tall, soft vinyl figures included (businessman/boss, new age lady and mime). Also includes four interchangeable horns (classic spiral, chrome, glow and pearlescent).
Avenging Unicorn Play Set item 11554$12.95 ea.
Friday, June 8, 2007
What I learned today.....
It is unwise to spellcheck "fellatio" in your google toolbar at the office.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
I'm Tangy, Tangy Rhombus...
I have a long standing theory that there are words that are just beautiful to say, and without context or meaning would make lovely names. It is their definitions that make them terrible names and I think this is a tragic loss. Those of you that have known me for awhile may recall my favorite example of this concept - "Tangy Rhombus" - which is what I have threatened, lo these many years, to name any first born child I may have.
I present you with a list of other fantasy names. Say them out loud! See how great that feels :)
(well- don't say them too loud if you are with other people. Then they will think you are crazy - like the spectacularly white haired lady at my eye doctor that reads the Reader's Digest out loud to herself while she pops her gum. Freaky - and fatally annoying. but I digress...)
Gerund Mentos Flange
Glandular Apostle
Virulent Radish
Thalidomide Fungi
Blaspheme Roux
Crisco Denoument
Sodom Proscuitto
Cedille Bacchanal
Pestilence Bush
Epithet Shorn
Chai Fellatio Blender
If you are having a baby - I say - why not go for one of these charmers! Or come up with one of your own...there are juicy words out there awaiting redemption.
Or you could just get a fish and name it "Jim," but that would be pretty lazy of you, now wouldn't it?
I present you with a list of other fantasy names. Say them out loud! See how great that feels :)
(well- don't say them too loud if you are with other people. Then they will think you are crazy - like the spectacularly white haired lady at my eye doctor that reads the Reader's Digest out loud to herself while she pops her gum. Freaky - and fatally annoying. but I digress...)
Gerund Mentos Flange
Glandular Apostle
Virulent Radish
Thalidomide Fungi
Blaspheme Roux
Crisco Denoument
Sodom Proscuitto
Cedille Bacchanal
Pestilence Bush
Epithet Shorn
Chai Fellatio Blender
If you are having a baby - I say - why not go for one of these charmers! Or come up with one of your own...there are juicy words out there awaiting redemption.
Or you could just get a fish and name it "Jim," but that would be pretty lazy of you, now wouldn't it?
Tuesday, June 5, 2007
Ten Random things I'm obsessed with. A photo gallery.
Yeah - apparently I can't write anything in prose form during the week. Why you ask? Well today I got to work and realized that I'm at the point in the year where I have to put my soul in a box for the next two months and simply crank out logistics and order craploads of lunch. (It's a really special box though - specially bred hermaphrodite elves crafted it for me from the tawny hides of Spartans...SPARTA!) mmm ...spartans...
oh ...sorry... I got distracted.
And now I'm back.
If you know me and you see me occasionally in life - I apologize in advance. I'm either drunk or working. I still love you, care, and think you are handsome/pretty.
........................................................................
Here, because I just KNOW that you are DYING of curiosity, are ten random things that I am, in fact, slightly obsessed with...
Sunday, June 3, 2007
It's Monday. Therefore I bring the joy.
I could make a snarky comment ... but come on - a pony and a cat in the snow? You know you are smilin a little bit right now. Consider this your feelgood picture of the week. See...I'm a giver.Photo - www.letsbefriends.blogspot.com
Saturday, June 2, 2007
Ten Remarkable Things that Have Been Said to Me
1.) "The first show of the season will be a non-Equity production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat...and finally, we will end the season with Peter Pan: the Musical."
2.) "You are apparently the one here most likely to be a bisexual prison warden."
3.) "Lets put the Women's Auxillary Fashion Show at the strip club."
4.) "We can't pay for college because you made us get you braces."
5.) "I can't not smoke when I'm around you...every cigarette you smoke looks like it is better than the last one you smoked..."
6.) "No."
7.) (oddly, from someone I was not dating) "You are kind of dirty. That's what's fun about dating you."
8.) "You aren't as pretty or as graceful or well mannered or smart as Mary Kay, but that's part of your charm."
9.) (Apply serbian accent) "That was shit. Never do it again. We go get coffee."
10.) "You are a combination of 'Win' and 'Awesome.'"
2.) "You are apparently the one here most likely to be a bisexual prison warden."
3.) "Lets put the Women's Auxillary Fashion Show at the strip club."
4.) "We can't pay for college because you made us get you braces."
5.) "I can't not smoke when I'm around you...every cigarette you smoke looks like it is better than the last one you smoked..."
6.) "No."
7.) (oddly, from someone I was not dating) "You are kind of dirty. That's what's fun about dating you."
8.) "You aren't as pretty or as graceful or well mannered or smart as Mary Kay, but that's part of your charm."
9.) (Apply serbian accent) "That was shit. Never do it again. We go get coffee."
10.) "You are a combination of 'Win' and 'Awesome.'"
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