March 2007

Who Wants to Spank Me?

On Sunday it'll be 35 years since I tore myself from my mother's womb kicking and screaming. Poor mom, what'd she do to deserve that? Well, to celebrate this grand occasion I'm kicking up my heels up at Sea Ranch with The Mikes (kinda sounds like a pathetically white rap duo, doesn't it?). Oh wait, I forgot that I'm not supposed to know where we're going... I meant to say I'm going away to a yet to be disclosed destination of birthday bliss. Four days away from work, laundry and commute traffic. That'll be nice, but even better: four days that are all about me. While it's true that every day is already about me, this will be like extra special days about me where I can demand umbrella clad fruity cocktails, therapeutic herbal sea weed wraps and little chocolate shavings on my raspberry chocolate mousse. Of course, it'll be just my luck that "the pathetically white rap duo" will read this before we leave tomorrow and decide to cancel the whole thing. I was just kidding guys. Jeez. I can live without the chocolate shavings.

Silly Doctor

Doctor: "You probably have bronchitis."

Me: "But I gargled with vinegar and cayenne pepper."

Doctor: ...

Me: "It's the miracle cure."

Doctor: "I can't do anything for your bronchitis. It'll just have to run it's course."

Me: "But, see, I can't have bronchitis cuz I took the miracle cure."

Doctor: "Here's the number for a psychiatrist. I'll warn her that you're on your way."

Fujiya & Miyagi

Me rikes Fujiya & Miyagi long time. Please listen happy.

Dear John

Extra Income, you were good while I had you in my life, but we've grown apart. I just don't feel the spark for you I once felt. I took on a second job so I could have you in my life, but now I'm taking this side job and increasing those hours to make it my one - and only - income. I know that we'd hoped to stay together in our two job existence for a long time, but I need something else. Extra Income, it's time for me to move on. I hope you understand. I want to thank you for bringing me a new job that has half the commute, pays more and has been much more interesting/challenging. Extra Income, I value the time we had together and I hope you find a money whore who can treat you with the respect you deserve.

All my love,
Damon

Getting Better, I Reckon

Some of you will know how, um, alternative I like to be with remedies when I'm sick. And by "alternative" I of course mean certifiably insane. It's true that I sometimes take showers alternating scalding hot with freezing cold water (i.e. hydro therapy) to try and jump-start my immune system. It's also true that I drink herbal sludge concoctions steeped in alcohol (i.e. tinctures) to kick a cold. And I've even been known to pay people to turn my back into one gigantic hickey (i.e. cupping) to find pain relief. So my latest delve into insanity should come as no surprise.

Imagine a bubbling brew of water, apple cider vinegar, cayenne pepper, salt and tons of honey. Then imagine putting that spicy sour brew in your mouth and gargling. Next imagine spewing said brew all over your bathroom mirror because it's so amazingly awful.

While that scenario alone is enough to buy anyone a ticket to the funny farm, do you think that someone who repeats this scenario numerous times might be a danger to society at large? I have no idea of this Cajun-esque brew will actually kill what I think may be strep throat, but it sure makes for some good blogging.

D.E.B.

I've been at this new "accountant" job for about 2 months now (I'm changing jobs next week, but that exciting news would completely derail this rant so I'll save it for later). When I finally got all the checks for the previous 3 months entered into the system I proudly announced that I was done. I was then informed that there's a year and a half of credit card payments to be entered.

"We didn't want to give you everything all at once and overwhelm you." <doh> Alright. Wish I would have had a sense of the big picture, but I can deal with that. So I got those entered and was finally done!

"Oh by the way, you still have this pile of *other* credit payments to enter." Ooookay. <grrr> Those are entered... so... I'm done, right?

"I forgot to mention that you have a stack of wire transfers to be entered." <wtf!> I'm so gonna hurt someone. Ok, wire transfers entered. Checks were entered. Credit cards were entered (both of them). All caught up. Now I can start doing my real job. It's about frickin' time. <whew>

"And, um... we've been holding on to a lot of the checks that have come in because we didn't want to overwhelm you with them..." <steam pouring from my ears> Three *hundred* check entries later... I'm so done with this job. Where's the door?

"And... here's the box of mailed checks that we've not even opened. There's probably only a hundred of them." <evil eyes promising a slow painful death>

Aside from my desire to set the remaining checks ablaze, I'm scared to finish these entries because they might start opening up more file cabinets, boxes and even pulling shit out of their pockets that no one felt the need to accomplish for the last year. Apparently in the case of this job, it turns out that "accountant" equals "data entry bitch."

Adventure-R-Us

My current life theme is experience. If you called me up and said, "Wanna go paragliding off the top of the Golden Gate Bridge?" I'd be your friend for life (or at least until we plunged into the bay screaming like little girls). If you say, "Let's go check out some funky new art gallery three hours north of the city," I'd be at your doorstep by 8am, travel cooler fully stocked.

The snag with this fun little life theme is that my schedule quickly gets filled up with my adventures and I go weeks without seeing friends that I enjoy just hanging out with. So, sorry friends-I-enjoy-just-hanging-out-with. I haven't forgotten you and I plan to write, really I do. But it's hard to write when you're bungy jumping into the heart of a volcano from a moving helicopter. You understand, right?

Ask and You Shall Receive

All weekend I was still dragging from this flu-like-what-cha-ma-call-it. There were many things I wanted to get done including shaking my booty to throbbing dance floor beats (a very important to-do indeed), but instead I watched videos, napped frequently and filled up the remains of my free time with the obligatory "I hate being sick" bitching and moaning. I just wanted to be able to get a few things done. All weekend I prayed for some amount of productivity. This morning, I started to have a productive cough. Next time I'm going to be more specific with my prayers...

Trigger Happy

So I think I might be grumpy today. It's not one of the things that's like a perpetual cloud of gloom over me all day. It's more like I'm all fine one moment and then ready to start my new career as an psychotic murderer the next. "What do you mean you used the last of my staples?! YOU MUST DIE A SLOW AND PAINFUL DEATH!!!" Yep, that's me today. So... anyone wanna hang out?

Tell Me About Your Childhood

How pathetic is it that I can't even tell the difference between being depressed and the exhaustion of a cold? And to think I paid for those three hours of therapy for nothing...

Double-Wide Road Yacht

This morning I drove Mike and Michael's Intrepid (i.e. the double-wide road yacht) to work. I side-swiped my way down the traffic-laden highways leaving a trail of Mini's and other lesser vehicles behind. As I commanded the road with the ease of a tractor trailer driving down a bobsled chute, I realized just how perfect my tiny Honda Civic is for life in the bay area.

By All Means

While riding in a car on a busy bridge surrounded by numerous other metal machines of rapidly imending death, there are 11 words you never want to hear from the driver: "I need to just close my eyes for a little bit."

I Can't Even Whore Myself Properly

No one told me that to be a successful money whore my life had to be all about work. Suddenly I'm thinking: not so much. I'll take back some of those high paying hours and get myself some rest, some fun and some social time, thank you very much.