Thursday, February 24, 2011

Quote of the Day

K: "I was on the men's bathroom, someone was dropping heat."

I: "I don't know what that means. Thank G-d."

Carrie's Rock!

From some crazed and clearly deranged lunatic:

THEY ARE ACHING ME

Good Lord Almighty. I just crossed my arms over my chest for a second while I was talking to someone and I had to hold in a grimace. Judging from this pain, I should be getting my period soon. Or maybe, I am about to give birth to a rabid satanic creature so my body is preparing by killing every nerve ending and pain receptor in my chest so that when this being feeds on me, I won't die of pain- just blood loss- except the only way to deaden these nerves are apparently by reaching new and maximum heights of pain.

I can't imagine what I would be like if I were dramatic!!! I guess I'll never breastfeed!


And the most appropriate response you can imagine:

When we were at school our games were simple
I played the janitor you played a monitor
Then you played with older boys and prefects
What's the attraction in what they're doing?

(Chorus)
Hey Carrie Anne What's your game now
Can anybody play
Hey Carrie Anne
What's your game now
Can anybody play

You're always something special to me
Quite independent never caring
You lost your charm as you were aging
Where is your magic dissappearing

Chorus

You're so, so like a woman to me
so like a woman to me
So, so like a woman to me
So like a woman to me

Chorus

People live and learn
But you're still learning
You use my mind and I'll be your teacher
When the lesson's over you'll be with me
Then I'll hear the other people saying

Hey Carrie Anne
What's your game now
Can anybody play
Hey Carrie Anne
What's your game now
Can anybody play

Runners' Up:

Second Place: Hmm. Pregnant. I think I am, too.
Third Place: I will not babysit.

Thursday, February 17, 2011

Snowpacolypse 2011 (cont.)

Just to share with everyone: My new best friend is named Accuweather. She lets me know how many scarves to wrap around my head. And one night. an actual friend person of mine, Melissa, let me know to check my town's forecast for that night.

That's right, Maywoodians. While driving between a few really popular malls, fully paved streets and high traffic, be careful when pulling your gun out and taking aim at your potential dinner. We had poor hunting conditions.

Snowpacolypse 2011

For those of you in Georgia... No. For those of you in New Mexico... No. Las Vegas? Hmmm...

For those of you in the very southern tip of Texas, living without any modern technology or access to national news information, we've had some snow. And not just some. Mounds and feet and inches and drifts and piles and puddles and mountains and heaps in New Jersey. And let's not forget ice storms! I didn't really know what an ice storm could do until I saw it in action on top of multiple feet of snow. Now I can say, "Yes. Yes, I do know what ice on top of snow does. It seals in the dirt and ensures that even the 'safe, crunchy steps' that you depended on utilizing when you thought the regular ground was too slippery will be, indeed, too slippery." I particularly like how all of the gray dirt and grime and debris particles get trapped inside the layer of snow and ice and act as a constant reminder of death.

And I've always been a fan of snow. Until I met it's evil twin: Snow in the City. A direct quote from my father: "What? The city is beautiful when it snows, at least at first." Sure. just like diseased cells are beautiful. They are complex and discerning and challenging. They cause discussions and create jobs. But really, who wants them?

In New York City, when snow falls, horns start. And that's as good as it's going to get. Can you imagine the filth that kicks up from everywhere? There are individuals in Port Authority that I believe, with a good spritz from a hydrant, could contaminate half a city block with, hmmm, diseased cells. And snow doesn't actually exist in Manhattan. In the outer boroughs, the affordable areas where tax dollars leave but never come back, it snows and stays there for months. But in the city, foot traffic and the heat rising from underground trains turns what should be something amazing like fluffy snowflakes into 4 foot wide puddles of gray, hazardous slush. This radioactive sludge gets kicked up all of your pants as people slip and slide on their way to work. If everyone just slowed down a little, I could get to work clean! Or speed up a little, and I could use your backs as stepping stones.

But I don't want to make it seem like I haven't appreciated this weather. Aside from ravaging my bus schedule and trapping my car both on and off of my driveway, it has provided wonder and amazement. Like the women I see in mini-skirts with no stocking and stiletto heels. That is unreal! And the minimum of four people a week that I would see with flips flops on. Flat completely open sandals? Forget about frostbite, do you want radioactive slush encasing your toes? (I think those people turn into those said individuals in Port Authority I mentioned earlier.)

It's warmer now. At least for long enough for my immune system to acclimate and let it's guard down. Snow is the clear victor this season. It's been a real Winter. Global warming? So you say...

Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Quote of the Day

K: "Dogs have both hair and fur? That blows my mind. What's next? Some dogs have mumps?"

Me: "Maybe that's what's wrong with Marley!"

Friday, February 4, 2011

Orange Tabby Time

If anyone asks, I am not a cat person. I don't speak cat, I don't like their wildness and the fact that they put their teeth inside of dead and alive rodents. *shudder* I don't like the hives that form all over my body or the hair that get caught in my throat. I don't understand why anyone would be slave to an animal who won't even care if they are home or not.

But, they have their merits. They are beautiful. They are wild. They are clean and self sufficient and don't need to sit inside of your chest while you try to unwind from work for a blessed twenty minutes until you give up, go to bed and hide under the covers while the dogs dig and try to burrow their way inside. Also, they are beautiful.

There is a fat orange tabby cat that lives on the front lawn of the house across the street from me. I assume that it belongs to the family in that house: lovely people, by the way. But the truth is, I have never seen it entering or leaving the house, it may just like that patch of grass. It's pretty well maintained. (Don't judge me! I need to kiss up where applicable. Some neighbors aren't going to like me to much when I cover their cars in their beer bottles and pizza boxes since they obviously don't want the thrown out. I know this to be the case since they have NEVER actually brought their waste to the curb.)

Last week, said cat was in my driveway as I was walking up. My only thought was, "Oh, a cat." Last night, after making a dinner time take-out sushi run, I parked and was walking down the driveway and there was the cat again. The second time I've seen it on my property and also in a long time, and my only though was, "There's the cat that is too cute and chubby and I just love him so much!" I tried to compose myself, by here was this cat, slowly walking towards me, meowing, tail languidly swinging up in the air, and just looking so expectant. As my dogs have nailed "I'm sorry" with their eyes, this cat has mastered "Please please please please please don't leave my side."

So obviously, I sat on the partially ice covered cement stairs in literally freezing weather and played with the cat. He (I am guessing here) rubbed all around my legs and purred in between meowing. When I pet him, he moved into my hand and then would throw himself onto his back and start rolling around like a goofball, but when I would make a move closer to my front door, he was underfoot, giving me that LOOK! Obviously, I gave the cat some Crab Roll and helped him unroll it to get to the good stuff. I had to call my friend and asked him to give me all the reasons as to why I couldn't bring this cat inside with me. Aside from my swelling hand, the growling dogs, and the fact that the very nice people across the street are very likely his owners. I made it inside, but have been thinking about him all day.

He had no collar. He walks around too freely. He likes sushi. I hope he made it inside last night. But it is a good thing I don't have a farm. It would be shut down by Animal Planet. They'd be all, "Listen lady, nobody NEEDS 65 horses." And I'd be all, "But fake officers: There are 65 baby carrots PER baby carrot package! This makes sense!"