Monday, February 22, 2010
Chuck Tacos
Does anyone else find this stupid Taco Bell ad as annoying as I do? It started with a SuperBowl commercial, and I've been hearing it on the radio everyday since. AGH! I consider myself a Charles Barkley fan, but the sound of this "rap" makes my skin crawl.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Paging Dr. Quattlebaum
We got some legitimate snow down yonder this weekend, and it is wreaking havoc on the genitalia of South Carolinians.
I've repeatedly heard and overheard the story of a woman who took a spill on an icy street and is now - in her own words - hobbling around with a bruised rectal and vaginal area. WOAH, back up. Did I hear that right? Wait, don't back up. I don't want to hear it again. I am not down with OPP.
But she keeps talking... broken capillaries, broken skin, pain while sitting, pain while walking. She doesn't have children so has never experienced an episiotomy but imagines this is a similar situation. HOLY MOSES. I can't think of a more perfect example of TMI (way, way TMI). Please, please... for the love of Marilyn... hush your mouth.
Of course, this begs the question... what could she possibly have been doing when she fell? Practicing a balance beam routine??? I'm equally horrified and perplexed.
I'm not the only one with visualization problems. Due to the awkward anatomical location of the injuries, she is having a hard time assessing the full extent of the damage. Hand mirror, anyone? But for a professional medical opinion, this sounds like a case for Dr. Quattlebaum. Stat!
Cecil P. Quattlebaum is an elderly white-haired local OB/GYN who uses the expression "poot" (which seems to be a substitute for "shucks"). Think about this for a minute and try not to giggle like a 7th grader. I've never met the man, but Cecil P. has provided me with hours of amusement. "Quattlebaum" is well on its way to becoming the hot new word of 2010. It functions as all parts of speech.
Spread the word, dear readers! The word is quattlebaum! In other words, spread the quattlebaum :)
I've repeatedly heard and overheard the story of a woman who took a spill on an icy street and is now - in her own words - hobbling around with a bruised rectal and vaginal area. WOAH, back up. Did I hear that right? Wait, don't back up. I don't want to hear it again. I am not down with OPP.
But she keeps talking... broken capillaries, broken skin, pain while sitting, pain while walking. She doesn't have children so has never experienced an episiotomy but imagines this is a similar situation. HOLY MOSES. I can't think of a more perfect example of TMI (way, way TMI). Please, please... for the love of Marilyn... hush your mouth.
Of course, this begs the question... what could she possibly have been doing when she fell? Practicing a balance beam routine??? I'm equally horrified and perplexed.
I'm not the only one with visualization problems. Due to the awkward anatomical location of the injuries, she is having a hard time assessing the full extent of the damage. Hand mirror, anyone? But for a professional medical opinion, this sounds like a case for Dr. Quattlebaum. Stat!
Cecil P. Quattlebaum is an elderly white-haired local OB/GYN who uses the expression "poot" (which seems to be a substitute for "shucks"). Think about this for a minute and try not to giggle like a 7th grader. I've never met the man, but Cecil P. has provided me with hours of amusement. "Quattlebaum" is well on its way to becoming the hot new word of 2010. It functions as all parts of speech.
- Noun - I need to get my quattlebaum checked after that nasty fall on the ice.
- Verb - I'm totally quattlebaumed (or QB'd) from that nasty fall on the ice.
- Exclamation - Quattlebaum! I took a nasty fall on the ice.
Spread the word, dear readers! The word is quattlebaum! In other words, spread the quattlebaum :)
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Grocery List
I HATE that I have not been keeping up with this blog as frequently as I would like. Please don't hold it against me, dear readers. I'm not only neglecting you... I'm neglecting myself.
Exhibit A: The contents of my refrigerator on day 7 in my new apartment. For the record, that's 4 cans of Miller Lite, 1 bottle of Bass, and 3 bottles of dusty champagne I stumbled across in the basement. (I can't even take credit for the baking soda.)
Exhibit A: The contents of my refrigerator on day 7 in my new apartment. For the record, that's 4 cans of Miller Lite, 1 bottle of Bass, and 3 bottles of dusty champagne I stumbled across in the basement. (I can't even take credit for the baking soda.)
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Facebook Near and Far
The New Zealand Herald recently published this article about "Facebook at work problems." In typical NZ journalism fashion, the article provides no useful information. A social media expert provides the following insightful commentary: "I sort of liken it to when phones were first introduced into businesses, there must have been the same kind of anxieties with that." (I can just imagine it... Oh my goodness, now I can pick up this device and call my co-worker to be in instant communication. The convenience is bringing on a panic attack.)
My company has blocked access to facebook, but where there's a will, there's a way. During office hours, I simply use my blackberry instead of the computer for my social networking needs. In your face, job!! I can't be expected to work all the time.
Interestingly enough, the company's "young professionals" association uses a facebook page as its main method of communication.... even though no one can see it until they get home. Anyway, this puts me in a real pickle. I am interested in this association because they host different social events and it might be a good opportunity to meet new people who aren't ridiculous and aren't 30 years older than me. BUT, for obvious reasons, I can't have my facebook page connected to anything work-related. What to do? What to do?
My company has blocked access to facebook, but where there's a will, there's a way. During office hours, I simply use my blackberry instead of the computer for my social networking needs. In your face, job!! I can't be expected to work all the time.
Interestingly enough, the company's "young professionals" association uses a facebook page as its main method of communication.... even though no one can see it until they get home. Anyway, this puts me in a real pickle. I am interested in this association because they host different social events and it might be a good opportunity to meet new people who aren't ridiculous and aren't 30 years older than me. BUT, for obvious reasons, I can't have my facebook page connected to anything work-related. What to do? What to do?
Friday, February 12, 2010
No Love Lost
Twas the Friday before Valentine's Day and there was a bag of chocolate sitting on the doorknob of every office in the suite BUT MINE.
Bite me, Cupid. I would prefer a bag of Skittles over your Hershey Kisses anyway.
Bite me, Cupid. I would prefer a bag of Skittles over your Hershey Kisses anyway.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
M & M & M's
We're all acquainted with Marilyn by now, and I've come to appreciate my new pal. She's my scapegoat and my confidante. But two identities are enough! I can cope with a split personality, but a multiple personality disorder would present too many scheduling difficulties.
1) A co-worker recently called me Melissa for the second time.
2) A co-worked attempted to introduce me as follows: "Do you know each other?" The woman replied: "Yes, we've met. How have you been, Meredith?"
3) My new landlord attempted to write my contact information on a post-it note. She said, "I know how to spell your name." I watched her print M... A... (so far, so good)... then..D... E... She wrote Madeline. (Note: That was at least the 3rd time I gave the woman my phone number. She sent me an email on Monday saying "I don't have your phone number. Please call me ASAP.")
Hey y'all, that's not my name.
1) A co-worker recently called me Melissa for the second time.
2) A co-worked attempted to introduce me as follows: "Do you know each other?" The woman replied: "Yes, we've met. How have you been, Meredith?"
3) My new landlord attempted to write my contact information on a post-it note. She said, "I know how to spell your name." I watched her print M... A... (so far, so good)... then..D... E... She wrote Madeline. (Note: That was at least the 3rd time I gave the woman my phone number. She sent me an email on Monday saying "I don't have your phone number. Please call me ASAP.")
Hey y'all, that's not my name.
36 Hours in Philly
Oh my gosh, where does the time go? Sometimes life gets in the way of my blogging. I'll try not to let it happen again.
I recently had bachelorette parties 2 Saturdays in a row, and wow, those tend to turn into all-weekend affairs one way or another. The latest party involved a trip to the City of Brotherly Love, where I got to catch up with 2 things I haven't seen in a long time:
1) My very best friends! I missed them! It seems like wedding-related events are the only times we get together as a group anymore.
2) Snow. I did not miss it! It was nice and pretty to see for one day, but I'm sure glad I don't have to deal with that stuff anymore. I came back with salt-stained shoes. Yuck.
I booked my flight to Philadelphia over a month in advance, but somehow failed to realize until the day of departure that my return flight on Sunday was at 9AM. I had thought it was 9PM... and I spoke in detail to many people about why I booked 9pm. "Sure, it sucks to get home that late at night, but my only other option is 9am and Marilyn doesn't stand a chance of catching that plane after a night of partying." I am a moron.
At approximately 3:30am on Saturday night/Sunday morning, my friends and I made a group decision that I would pack my suitcase and sleep in my clothes. The plan was to get 3.5 hours of sleep, get out of bed, slip on my boots and slip out the door. When the cell phone alarm clock struck 7am, I woke up to find a voicemail waiting for me. In what can only be described as a case of divine intervention, US Air had called to notify me that my flight was delayed by 192 minutes. Hallelujah! I was so happy that I woke up my friends to share the good news. They didn't appreciate that. I climbed back under the covers, got 3 more glorious hours of sleep and was back on South Carolina soil by 2pm. Couldn't have planned it better!
Marilyn's friends greeted her at the airport with this awesome sign.
We frolicked in the snow.
We forgot to buy mixers so I spent about $40 on little juice bottles at Dunkin Donuts. That was a financially irresponsible Marilyn decision.
I bought a "large" soda in the Philly airport and was immediately ashamed of myself. Isn't this gross?? The lid compartment could hold a small soda on its own. No wonder this city has an obesity problem.
I recently had bachelorette parties 2 Saturdays in a row, and wow, those tend to turn into all-weekend affairs one way or another. The latest party involved a trip to the City of Brotherly Love, where I got to catch up with 2 things I haven't seen in a long time:
1) My very best friends! I missed them! It seems like wedding-related events are the only times we get together as a group anymore.
2) Snow. I did not miss it! It was nice and pretty to see for one day, but I'm sure glad I don't have to deal with that stuff anymore. I came back with salt-stained shoes. Yuck.
I booked my flight to Philadelphia over a month in advance, but somehow failed to realize until the day of departure that my return flight on Sunday was at 9AM. I had thought it was 9PM... and I spoke in detail to many people about why I booked 9pm. "Sure, it sucks to get home that late at night, but my only other option is 9am and Marilyn doesn't stand a chance of catching that plane after a night of partying." I am a moron.
At approximately 3:30am on Saturday night/Sunday morning, my friends and I made a group decision that I would pack my suitcase and sleep in my clothes. The plan was to get 3.5 hours of sleep, get out of bed, slip on my boots and slip out the door. When the cell phone alarm clock struck 7am, I woke up to find a voicemail waiting for me. In what can only be described as a case of divine intervention, US Air had called to notify me that my flight was delayed by 192 minutes. Hallelujah! I was so happy that I woke up my friends to share the good news. They didn't appreciate that. I climbed back under the covers, got 3 more glorious hours of sleep and was back on South Carolina soil by 2pm. Couldn't have planned it better!
Marilyn's friends greeted her at the airport with this awesome sign.
We frolicked in the snow.
We forgot to buy mixers so I spent about $40 on little juice bottles at Dunkin Donuts. That was a financially irresponsible Marilyn decision.
I bought a "large" soda in the Philly airport and was immediately ashamed of myself. Isn't this gross?? The lid compartment could hold a small soda on its own. No wonder this city has an obesity problem.
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