Sexy asshole

OK, really quick. The CAKE concert was pretty great. I can't say "great" because of the 2.5 hours of sheer torture leading up to CAKE coming out.

The opening bands for the Unlimited Sunshine tour were ... well ... awful. I actually liked the very first band the best of the four, and if you would have seen my face at the time they were playing, you'd be wondering how I could say that.

Bottom line: I wish I could go back to the time before hearing that CAKE was coming to town, so I could still say I have no idea who the Brazilian Girls are. Them taking the stage just before CAKE was where the torture REALLY came to the surface ... and if any of you tell me you've heard of this band and like it ... I can't talk to you anymore.

Once CAKE finally came out a bit after 10 p.m., the show turned around. They played 16 songs. Not bad. Two I was surprised to hear, "Sad Songs and Waltzes" and "Friend is a Four-Letter Word." I liked hearing "Frank Sinatra," "Guitar" and "Love You Madly," and everyone's favorite, "Stickshifts and Safetybelts" was played, perhaps salvaging the night for Jeanine.

CAKE gets 3.25 stars out of 4. 0.25 is docked because I didn't get to hear "Dime," "Alpha Beta Parking Lot" or "It's Coming Down." 0.5 is docked because they DID play "Never There." HATE.

The rest of the Unlimited Sunshine tour gets 0.25 stars out of 4. I'll give it the 0.25 because at Jeanine's request, the Brazilian Girls did give me the headline for the blog. By the way ... there is only one girl in the damn band. Whatever.

I get -1 star for dropping the ball on my attire. After commenting to Jeanine that I would wear a short skirt and a long jacket, the first thing she said to me was, "Where is your short skirt!?" I totally spaced it. I had worn my blue trench (coincidentally only), but had completely forgotten to come through with the skirt. I guess it wouldn't have been work-appropriate for a Monday anyway. It was tough sitting through that song in the encore after forgetting though.

P.S. - Who knew that Chicago was the city whose inhabitants ate the most per capita tonnage of Twinkies in the United States? If someone would have clued me into that ... hello Chicagoans ... I could have won a tree from the band. Thanks a lot. :)

Is it over yet?

How so many annoying situations could occur in one week is beyond me.

Sunday
I went to a bar to watch the Colts game. At the two-minute warning, I decided I HAD to break down and go to the restroom. In haste, I spun around, flushed, opened the stall door and out of the corner of my eye, saw that my ID was in the toilet.

I felt my back pocket and my credit card was gone, too. It was nowhere to be found ... I went to check around my barstool, the traveled path to the restroom ... gone.

That, of course, was my only method of payment. I managed to explain the situation to the bartender, who agreed to let me leave my ID (my VERY well-washed ID) as good faith that I would return to pay.

It also had started raining, and I didn't have my umbrella. I ran back the five or so blocks to my apartment, got my debit card, and on the way back to the bar, called to cancel the missing card.

It was a pretty cold rain coming steadily down now, and the woman with the credit card company wouldn't stop asking questions ... do I think it was lost or stolen, how I lost it, where I lost it, etc., etc., to which I finally exasperatedly told her, "Look, I think I flushed it down the toilet." She responded, "Oh, well I guess it's secure." Ha. Yeah, I guess so.

Good thing the Colts pulled out the win because I obviously didn't see the last two minutes of the game ... and my mini-buzz was completely killed. Boo.

Monday
Pretty run-of-the-mill day, though it was very annoying to watch the Ravens choke and die at the end of their game against the Patriots.

Tuesday
That damn pigtail headache ...

Wednesday
I woke to the first snow of the winter. On one hand, I loved it; on the other, I realized it was the one weekday in months I had to drive. Great.

The evening started with the trains being backed up, so I was 10 minutes late to begin my car reservation. When I got to the block the car resides at ... walking in heavy snow ... there it sat with AT LEAST four inches of snow piled on top. Gr.

I cleared the car off as fast as I could go in my skirt and stiletto heels ... how I didn't end up on my ass, I don't know ... and arrived to pick my dad up for dinner 35 minutes late.

We had a nice meal, but then all hell REALLY broke loose.

We stopped off at Harris Teeter at my dad's request, which was fine because I needed Diet Pepsi anyway. I put the fridgemates in the cart, walked over to the register and reached into my purse for my keys and VIC card.

I'm confused when the keys won't come out of my purse. I looked inside to see what was piled on top of them ... only to find the problem was that the super glue I was toting around to repair a fingernail I had been trying to salvage for two weeks had spilled ... all over the bottom of my purse. How brilliant of me.

My sinking feeling actually turned a little bit to relief because I saw that somehow, the glue hadn't gotten on my camera, earbuds, mp3 player, insulin ... somehow the ONLY thing it was on was the keys.

I was able to rip them off the bottom of my purse with a bit of force. The mailbox key took the brunt of the encounter. My apartment key had just a little bit of glue on the tip ... but the glue was still wet and sat in a pool at the bottom of my purse.

Realizing I had to be able to get into my apartment, I went into super-glue-removing overdrive ... with no regard for my own skin. I moved all the items in my purse away from the pool and started wiping at my house key to try to clear the glue out of the grooves ... while also trying to make sure the other keys don't stick to my fingers.

My dad came back to see what I was doing, and while laughing at me, saw tissues in my purse. Desperate to get the glue dry, I grabbed for one and sopped up the remaining glue.

It was a mess. People were looking at me oddly. My fingers and purse bottom were covered in super-glued tissue. The mailbox key was caked in glue. I hoped my apartment key would work.

I went to pay for my soda, and as she's asking me if I found everything OK, it hit me that I'm no longer holding onto the parking garage ticket I brought in to validate.

I searched through my wrecked purse for five minutes, checked my pockets, looked around everywhere I was in the store. As with the credit card at the bar ... gone. I still have no idea where that damn thing went. And I HATE to lose things.

I was able to sweet talk the parking attendant to let me out for the lowest $2 fee even though I couldn't find the ticket.

My hands felt like I had permanently-encasing gloves on.

The thumbnail the super glue was there for was lost after a two-week fight.

I made it into my apartment with some determination and bruises on the palms of my hands from forcing my key in the door.

Thursday
I had to see my endocrinologist for prescription changes because of my awful, new health insurance for 2008. My appointment time was 3:30 p.m. She didn't see me until 5:20 p.m.

Georgetown waiting rooms are NOT pleasant places to sit for long periods.

Other patients were complaining about being there two hours after their appointment time.

A baby slung over her mom's forearm came within an inch of throwing up on my foot.

I could hear office workers bitching about the people in the waiting room.

Once I got in there, she completely rushed me through, didn't do half of the usual checks, wrote the prescriptions wrong and the lab was closed by the time I was finished. That means calling her AGAIN for the correct prescription and returning to get blood drawn for my A1c ... um, why was I there wasting three hours of my life again?

"I wanted to talk to you in person, so you WOULDN'T screw up the new scripts, but you still did. Thanks. You don't need to verify for me that I gained four pounds in your half-assed physical, and I really don't like you anyway."

Friday
Tonight, I'm off for a holiday party ... hoping nothing out of the ordinary happens. Nothing bad out of the ordinary anyway.

I have a headache

I get bored with my hair pretty easily. Since I've decided I want to let it grow long (-er than it is), this is a problem because I can't just go chop it off for a change.

So, I decided to wear my hair in pigtails today. This is something I haven't done since Coal Creek Central days ... and for those of you that don't know, that would be K-3. I really don't even think I liked wearing it like that much then, and now I might have a reminder why (see headline). Too much weight tugging at both sides of my head ... yes, my "pig"tails are pretty much two ponytails by anyone else's standards. Ouch.

Anyway, I thought it would be something to make a Tuesday more interesting and see what kind of reactions I would get. Here are my findings:

1) My boss told me he doesn't talk to women who wear pigtails. He was kidding ... I think.

2) I got a few double-take looks on the street.

3) The guy at the store where I bought my dad's Christmas gift was EXTRA helpful ... and kept smiling at me strangely.

4) Another co-worker asked me if I was in a bad mood when he got into the office. When I said no and asked why he would think that, he said, "Because you've got your naughty girl hair today." Hahahahahaha. That one was funny.

5) After I paid for some items at CVS, I turned around and a guy in line had a huge smile on his face. When I made eye contact, he gave me the "what's up" nod. Sorry, Dude. I was over it by that point.

Number of women that commented: Zero. ;)

And there were a few people that held a conversation with me completely like nothing was out of the ordinary. I might find them the most odd ...

Random sighting

I got to the airport WAY earlier than I needed to for my flight today. I see that Indy is in definite need of an airport upgrade now because there weren't any TVs at the gates for me to watch the game on ... not in D concourse anyway ... and the only thing in that concourse is the lame, Dick Clark's American Bandstand restaurant.

I thought that restaurant had gone out of business, but I guess not.

Anyway, not important. I go in there to the bar to watch the Colts game until my flight.

There was hardly anyone in there, and TONS of open seats at the bar, yet two guys come in and sit down right next to me. Even though there were plenty of open seats to have put an empty one in between us. Annoying.

And the game was annoying at that point, too. And the guy kept grabbing his cell phone every two minutes and bumping my chair. Enough already.

Not far into the second quarter, a guy comes up to the guy who sat next to me and says, "Are you Rupert?" To which he replies, "Yes, do you need a picture?"

HA. At that point I realize the guy who has been annoying me for the last 20 minutes was Indy's own Rupert Boneham from "Survivor."

It still didn't do all that much for me since I don't watch the show, but I did think it was kind of humorous. And I still kind of wished he had sat farther down to allow a seat in between the two of us. :)

Vacations anyone?

I usually feel a little weird when people talk about traveling ... with that sound in their voice like absolutely nothing would make them happier than seeing destination A or B. I've never really gotten it. I guess if I'm going to spend a lot of money on something, I like to spend it on an object that I can keep/see/touch/use everyday.

I'm not much for seeing tourist sites. The museums and such around here? Boring. My skin doesn't take too well to tanning, so it bores me to lay out on a beach knowing it will do nothing for me ... though it MIGHT cause me some pain from a burn at day's end.

That's probably why I can barely remember the last time I took a "vacation" that wasn't to fly home to Indiana to see family and friends for a holiday or event. While that honestly suits me just fine, it isn't very interesting, so I finally came up with a couple of options.

The first is a ballpark tour. I hadn't really thought about it until talking about someone in the process of completing one a few months ago, but it seems a good way to have an excuse to see various areas of the country while doing something that is a LOT more fun than sitting out on the beach or visiting museums.

I could say I have some crossed off the list already, but to do it right, I guess I should go back to the three still functioning and document them with photos other than me in my seat with a beer or something ... A trip to New York will be must-schedule for next season as well.

I have little doubt I can find people to accompany me on this mission, but the second is a whole other story. It's an expedition to Antarctica. I haven't really started asking anyone, but how do you suggest taking a cruise somewhere you'll be walking around on ice?

I say there is nothing better than the chance to have a penguin come sit on your lap, and surprisingly the ice looks amazing, too. I don't know though. That could just be me. We get to leave from Buenos Aires at least. Any takers? :)

Weird lunch situations continue

It happens to all of us every now and again. You walk toward a stranger on the sidewalk, you side-step to not run into them, both of you go the same way ... then both back the other way. You get hung up. You smile and laugh. You apologize. You go about your way.

Never in all of my 28 years have I been a part of such a ridiculous encounter.

On the way to lunch, Melina and I waited to cross the street. The walk sign came on. We started to cross.

Coming toward us was an older guy in ridiculous '80s running gear. A sweatband on his forehead, those too short running shorts, the mesh tank top over a t-shirt ... a real train wreck.

I'll admit there have been times when I have decided I'm standing my ground and make the other person dodge. NOT this time. I wanted out of this guy's way.

On my left, Melina took the outer maneuvering route. There were strangers on my right, so I decided to follow suit and go left, too.

He kept going straight, but wavered a bit as if in a drunken stupor. Wavered a bit TOWARD me. Melina made it, but I couldn't get out of the way.

I stopped to see which way he would go before continuing.

He never stopped his forward motion, kept mumbling something like a crazy person ... and continued going straight.

I couldn't go anywhere. Still, he went forward ... continuously bumping into me like a Roomba does when it hits a wall and needs to turn around.

Correction ... continuously bumping into my BOOB.

First there was a boob graze, and I expected the usual recoil and apology when an accident such as that happens.

Instead, he looked down, seemed to see what had happened, and PRESSED forward two or three more times before brushing past.

I spun around with an annoyed, "EXCUSE ME!!?" He never turned around.

I stood in the middle of the street, speechless. Melina stared at me with her jaw dropped. I said, "He poked me in the boob!" as I instinctively wiped my shirt off. I felt moisture on my hand. I looked down to find a wet spot left on my boob from his sweaty, disgusting hand.

I was molested in the middle of F Street NW in broad daylight! Talk about a ruined appetite. Even the two or three hand washings prior to getting in line couldn't wash away the filth. I considered buying a new shirt, too. Ew.

Division series ... total suckage

This pretty much sums up how I felt about my entire evening last night:

I believe this was taken around the time Arizona was tacking on another run in the ninth inning. Ugh.

As if the double sweep wasn't bad enough for the night, it also became glaringly apparent I belong nowhere near bars where college people hang out. Maybe my mood wasn't optimal, but as more and more of them shuffled in ... all WAY more interested in dancing like idiots to "My Prerogative" than to watching the game (weren't we at a sports bar earlier in the evening?), I wanted to kick them. A lot of them. And even more so because they were all about 4 years old when that song was on the charts (and that is even probably spotting them a couple years). Then it was "Ice, Ice Baby," "You Can't Touch This," "Footloose" ... I could go on and on. It was awful.

So, the season's over ... again. I'd be OK shifting more of my focus to watching the Colts ... but networks around here don't find it necessary to broadcast their games, so you can swap out the Cubs shirt for a Colts tee and reference the above pic for how I'm feeling about that as well.