Thursday, September 30, 2004


After much unneeded worry, I started school again tonight. I was able to set up my newsgroups (how we go to school in an online environment) and I found the posts I had to respond to. I printed up my syllabus and the information about this other computer program we need to use to go to class.

I'm excited. This usually happens when I start a new class. The next five weeks will have stress added to my life, but I'll be learning and I enjoy using the topics in class on my work environment. At the University of Phoenix Online, our courses usually ask us to use our situations at work to discuss topics being taught. Sometimes, the information I learn about helps me become a better employee at NABABNA. The discussion of business practices are not overly exciting, but they do fit my life and I enjoy the discussions in class.

I know there will be times during this class where I'm frustrated or upset. I am making a promise to myself to not let it get me down. I don't know if I can effectively say I won't get upset if someone in a learning group doesn't contribute, or if some other major disaster occurs, but I will try to keep a positive attitude.

I have an odd request for the general blogging world. Some of the papers I have to write involve finding good articles on the Internet about certain topics. If anyone comes across a great, interesting article, about "a hypothesis that was used to validate a research study," I would love to know where it was found. I always have troubles finding really good articles, so if you see one that reminds you of the topic, please let me know. I appreciate it. Don't worry if you don't find anything. I'll be looking myself too.

On that note, I'm off to study, read 40 pages of text on hypothesis testing and try to remember how to determine the standard deviation of a dataset.

Poor Dana, she's going to hate me for five weeks. I'm sorry in advance. I do need to try and talk some of this out, if I just read it, I'll never understand it and it is for my betterment. This degree means a lot to me and I do want to understand what I'm paying to learn. Otherwise, what's the point?


At 11:04 AM, Matt said...

Huzzah! That is such a fun word to say, Huzzah! You have started school, that is awesome. By the way if Dana's head starts to explode or anything else, feel free to talk to me about school, I do not mind it all. I will see you later tonight, have a good day.
Big Brother
P.S. By the way, I read some more last night and I cried andhad to stop reading. He is a bastard.

At 12:36 PM, The Lioness said...

Try, it's pretty scientific and they have heaps of articles.

At 10:54 PM, CarpeDM said...

I'm glad you're having success with your class. I will promise to not let my head explode too much (actually, is that possible? Would it work to have your head explode only a little?) if you'll forgive the glazed over look my eyes are going to take on.

I don't get this stuff. I understand it helps you to try and teach it to me and because you are my friend and I care, I will sacrifice myself on the altar of statistics.

Yuck. I even hate the word.

Tuesday, September 28, 2004

Random Blog - Just stuff on my mind

Tonight was a good day, I went to dinner with Keem and Dana (see post below about Keem) and we stopped at a scrapbooking store afterwards. I spent money I shouldn't have, but I had fun. I am looking forward to using all the stuff I bought.

News I heard tonight, on the actual news even, is that Jay Leno is stepping down as host of The Tonight Show in 2009. He announced his replacement and I can't believe I hadn't heard about this sooner. I'm pleased about the replacement (I don't really like Leno and this will let me enjoy The Tonight Show). They announced that Conan O'Brien will be the fifth host of The Tonight Show! Yea! I like Conan. I just do.

For the reason of seeing what children watch and trying to alleviate fears of the mentality of children's T.V. shows hitting rock bottom, I watched this really strange show VERY early Sunday morning. It was about high schoolers who go to some strange private school. In the show, a Venus fly trap turned into a girl and started trying to date all the boys and eat them.

What??? I was so confused. Children shows should not confuse me. This one did. Why did the plant turn into a person? Is this normal? It wasn't even cool like a Twilight Zone episode. No, it was just a girl who bit this other girl's boyfriend. They threw some moldy food on her and she turned back into a plant.

While I was watching this show, my brow furrowed and a state of dull surprise on my face, I saw a commercial for this show called "Tutenstein." This cartoon appears to be about King Tut coming back to life as Frankenstein's monster. I have a few things to say about this, but the first I wonder about is, 'Wasn't the Mummy scary enough?'

On the commercial, it appears that Tutenstein is a brat. He bites people and makes them clean up his tomb. He's a spoiled brat. Now, I haven't seen the show, but it bothers me that the history of the ancient Egyptians is being tainted by this horrid atrocity. It made me sad to think children are being entertained by the image of a pharaoh coming back to life and biting people. What happened to the fact he was a young ruler of a dominant society? What about the culture of the ancient Egyptians? I'm just afraid.

Matt has been blogging lately. He's been blogging a lot! I love it. Seriously, check out The Window Licking Cat. He's insane, but hilarious.

Karaoke was an adventure in itself last night. The gentleman from Beer Goggles was there. He asked me to sing a duet with him. I didn't. He did manage to give the bar his rendition of Butterfly Kisses. This song has always made me cry, it's designed to do just that. It's about a girl who grows up and her dad is singing about how she used to give him hugs in the morning and butterfly kisses at night. Then she gets married and he's sad. Sunday night was the first time this song didn't make me cry. I think it was because I didn't realize which song he was singing until the third verse. I couldn't understand ANY of the words. I can understand not being able to carry a tune, but not being able to even SPEAK clearly into a microphone? He did it fine at the table. Even if what he said to me was, "You're sure you don't want to do a duet? I know I suck, but we could do a duet. You don't like duets? You should do a duet." Ahhh! Leave me alone!

Good things about karaoke were abundant though. A friend from the other bar showed up and Dana and I got to talk to Dean for awhile. Dean is always enjoyable. Plus, that man can rap! I can handle any rap if it comes from Dean.

The boy who looks like Alex with Charlie's eyes was there again. And he started conversation with me! It was a happy moment. And it happened while Bryan was singing so I may just hold onto that moment for the week. Any time I need a smile, I'll remember the cute boy who actually looks me in the eyes when he talks to me! Life's simple pleasures.

There is another commercial I feel I need, no HAVE to explain. The NBC affiliate in Minnesota is KARE 11. The news slogan is, "The news, handled with KARE." I have been watching the morning news lately (just plain odd for me) and the weatherman's name is Jonathan Yuhas. He's funny and I don't get upset with the show. The station makes sure to cover the news as best as they can but also present GOOD news stories. Watching the program is not just a feel bad time.

Okay, I got a little off the point here. There is a commercial for the early show focusing on Yuhas. I've seen it a few times and I am completely puzzled. I have no idea what this means.

Picture this on your T.V. screen:

A man sits in his easy chair with a woman behind him. They are watching Yuhas on a cartoon television. The voice over says, "Before you go to work, have a Yuhas. Why a Yuhas you ask? Because he's been known to make cows dance." And it switches to a picture of a cow in a field and it starts jumping back and forth.

What does this mean?!? My logical brain cannot compute. Do cows dance? And how did he make them dance?

This is why I don't watch T.V. I don't get it.


At 9:25 PM, Rev said...

"You're sure you don't want to do a duet? I know I suck, but we could do a duet. You don't like duets? You should do a duet."

Are you describing "The Stalker" as mentioned in a previous post? Just take out "duet" and replace it with "baseball".

"I really like baseball."


The Rev

At 10:57 AM, CarpeDM said...

Well, the red shirt experiment obviously failed. It's not the shirt. That was proved Sunday...unless we go with the fact that pink is a shade of red.

I had a great time at karaoke. And dinner. And at the stamping store. It's always fun to spend time with you.

Monday, September 27, 2004

September 27 - A Great Day

Today was my great friend's birthday. Keem (so affectionately termed by Dana) is a wonderful person and this post is dedicated to her (I hope she reads it).

I have known Keem for over four years now. I call her Mom sometimes. This needs explanation.

Dana and Keem are roommates. They went to get their haircut and the place ended up putting Dana's last name with Keem's first name. One of the bosses at work found this out and teased them about being married. They're not, but it just seemed fun. They're actually more like sisters.

Adam went with Dana once to get his haircut. The bill showed up with Adam's first name and Dana's last name. We figured he must be the son of Keem and Dana. Since Adam is my "little brother", I figured Dana is my dad and Keem is my mom. Matt is my "big brother" and so Scott is then Keem and Dana's son-in-law. Rich is also Keem and Dana's son-in-law.

None of us are actually related but there are some friends in life that feel like family. Our little family may not meet the conventional definition of a family, but it's filled with love. That's the most important part.

(For those who have read previous posts about my mother, I'm not talking about Keem in those posts. They are about the woman who actually gave birth to me and I love her too.)

The original Sheepsheadians are Keem, Dana, Adam, and I. Matt is now a true Sheepsheadian. We used to all work the night shift at work and would go to the all-night diner EVERY single night after work. We would play cards, laughing, and smiling for hours. Keem and I would sometimes sit in the car after cards, sharing stories about our lives while Adam drove Dana home (this was before Dana and Keem were roommates).

For Christmas one year, Keem had the wonderful idea of creating scrapbooks of our adventures for Dana and Adam. She's the one who actually turned me onto the world of scrapbooking. We spent weeks at my mom's house, going through photos, cropping, framing, etc. and came up with four fantastic albums. The albums told stories of our group going to the all-night diner, taking our road trip to Iowa, and the BNL concert we all saw together.

The first night Keem and I sat and talked was after work. We sat in the parking ramp until about 6 in the morning (we had both gotten off around 11 PM). We listened to the King of the Hill soundtrack over and over that night. One of the songs on the soundtrack is a BNL song about a paranoid man who thinks THEY are out to get him. There is a line, "Everybody open your mouth, everyone just say AH!" It is followed by a chorus of "AHHH!" We had lots of fun singing the AH off-key.

For a few weeks, Keem and I had a Twilight Zone marathon, watching all the episodes my dad had taped off of the Sci-Fi channel for a New Year's Eve/Day marathon. What I remember most about watching all those episodes was the fact a Subway commercial kept playing over and over. It was about Jared helping a firefighter lose weight by eating tons of subs. The commercial had worn out its welcome on Keem's mind and she sang, in perfect tune and unison, "**** off Subway" each time. I started letting the commercials play just to annoy Keem and then we would laugh. Maybe you had to be there, but it was really funny. I bring it up because it is a memory of Keem and I remember the good feeling of friendship while we watched all those episodes of The Twilight Zone.

Keem always has a great story to share. I wish she'd share more of them on Out of the Mouths of Morons so the world could hear the craziness she deals with each day. She tells wonderful stories about her past work experiences and her days of living in Wisconsin.

Keem is fun to scrapbook and stamp with. Her ideas are super creative and I'm always amazed at how amazing her pages turn out. She'd like to go into business involving scrapping and stamping and I'd love to see her do it. She has such talent and a great eye for special crafts.

I love it when Keem goes out with the group. We laugh and smile and everyone feels happy to be around her. More people in the world could benefit from Keem's good heart.

The other day I had the Bruce Springsteen song, "Glory Days" stuck in my head. I don't know why it was there, but it was. I kept thinking back to what I would define as my Glory Days. It would have to be when the Sheepsheadians formed and we started our adventures. It has been a fantastic journey and I love my friends. They are the family I got to pick.

Happy Birthday Keem! You are the best and a truly wonderful person. The world is lucky to have you in it.


At 12:36 AM, CarpeDM said...

This was a really fun day. I am fond of Keem. We should keep her.

It made me want to dance

This post is for those who want to laugh at the horrible, traumatic experience in my life. I'll admit, the sight must have been funny and I would have laughed until I had cramps in my sides if it hadn't been me. I do sit back and smile in horror when I think of this tale.

Three years ago, I lived at my mom's house and worked on the helpdesk at NABABNA. Chunky black shoes were the craze and I loved them. Although the pair of shoes are falling apart, I still have my favorite pair of chunky black shoes.

The shoes have a three inch heel on them. For my twenty-third birthday, I went with Matt and Adam to see a movie. While standing in line, I slipped one of the shoes off to demonstrate to Matt what "Beth with shoes" and "Beth without shoes" looked like. Without the shoes, Adam seemed REALLY tall and I was eye level with Matt. With the shoes, Adam was still tall and Matt wasn't eye level. The shoes created a very drastic change to my views of the world.

Understand I love these shoes. I feel short most of the time and I tend to buy boots with a good heel on them. My calves get a good workout and are the only part of my body I actually like. This is probably why I have the tattoo on my right calf.

One sunny Wednesday, I went to work at 3:00. The day had been interesting, customers yelled in my ears about overdraft fees and I answered many questions from bankers. It was typical and my normal day was about to change.

It was those shoes. They didn't understand my love for them. I didn't worship them enough or something.

At 7:00, I was ready to go to lunch. I was about to stand up from my chair when I felt something strange. It felt like I had a pebble in my right shoe, one that moved and tickled my toe.

The scary movie that bothers me to this day is Arachnophobia. There is a scene where a man puts his foot into a slipper, get bitten by a spider and dies. This has stuck with me for my entire life. I hate bugs and I hate spiders.

Since there seemed to be a problem with my shoe, I took it off. I didn't see anything.

Unsatisfied with the fact my toe was tickled and there seemed to be some type of pebble in my shoe, I took the shoe, hit the heel on the floor and out popped a cricket.

All conscious thought escaped me. I did what my instincts demanded I do.


The helpdesk was in the middle of our office space and every single person working looked up at me. I burst into tears.

I turned to my co-worker who squished the bug for me. "There wha-wha-was a cricket in my sh-sh-sh-shoe!" He laughed.

I guess the image of me crying over a bug is humorous, it's not like it was poisonous or anything. But it lurked in my shoe for over 4 HOURS! Then it awoke and decided to play its horrible tune on my toe. I still get the creeps.

I still get the urge to check my shoes and boots each time I put them on.


At 8:39 AM, The Lioness said...

Had it been a cockroach I would have done the same, i think. I would have been out of the building in 3 secs, never to return. Of all the places it could have hidden in... Crickets are really harmless and it's a shame to kill them. The Chinese believe they bring money. Or is it luck? One of those. Maybe next time - I'm SURE there won't be a next time with YOU, but say, if it happens to a colleague, could you maybe point the way to the nearest window while running screaming in the opposite direction. (As a comfort, I used to have to check my shoes in Israel for scorpions. I HOPE it's a comfort! Anything is better than cockroaches.)

At 9:17 AM, CarpeDM said...

Oh, Beth, I'm so sorry. I remember hearing this story and understanding the need to freak out.

I check my shoes everyday as well. Of course, in my world, the most I have to worry about is that Eddy decided to put a ball or a toy mouse in there (may there never be a live one).

God, this cracked me up. "I must not have worshipped them enough." Did you ever wear them again after that?

At 3:15 PM, Matt said...

I remember hearing this story as well, alas I was not in the phone bank on that particular night. I have also had an experience with the bugs that I hate. I once had a big fat juicy shiny brown centipede run across my hand. I will never forget, to this day, the feeling of all of those legs across my hand. And this happened over twenty years ago.
I will talk to you later.
P.S. I did not go to karoke last night because I was sick, as a matter of fact I had to stay home from work today because I was sick. But I will go back tomorrow. Yea!
P.P.S. I have read more of the book, and I am going to read even more if I can, as quickly as possible.

At 5:10 PM, rod said...

Now please don't think we laugh at the aweful things that happen to you - its just that you tell a goooooood story. It's the story that gets the laughs :-)
As far as I'm concerned, it doesn't matter if its a roach, spider, cricket or whatever, if it's in your shoe, it's time to freak out.
I just had a big black spider crawl down my shirt in the kitchen at church sunday morning and I stripped right in front of everyone. Don't laugh.

At 8:03 PM, Anonymous said...


I would have stripped too! I think if it had been a spider and not just a cricket, I probably would have gone comatose.

To everyone,There seems to be karma in my life. When I got home from Keem's birthday dinner, I heard a cricket somewhere in my apartment. They are after me...

At 8:03 PM, brooksba said...

Well, that post wasn't supposed to be anonymous. That's just odd.

Saturday, September 25, 2004

Of Mice and Men

In the spirit of my horrid, I'm being honest here, dating career, I think it's time to share what type of man I'm attracted to versus the type of men I attract. This could be part of the problem.

When I think of unwanted advances, four individuals come to mind:

The Stalker
Uncle Ga-ga
Texas Walker Ranger

I'll explain each.

The Stalker
The funny thing about him, out of the four listed, he's the best one. That's right, the one who actually frightened me and made me think he was psychotic was the best of the bunch. That's just sad.

Before I started my freshman year of college, my best friend warned me to watch out for a guy named Chris going to the U. She had gone on one date with this guy and he started calling her obsessively and acting as if they were married. He tried to possess her even when she told him flat out she was not interested in going on other dates with him. I felt bad for her having to deal with this creep, but I also thought, "There's got to be at least 400 guys named Chris at the University of Minnesota. What are the chances I'd run into the one she's talking about?"

Obviously, this story wouldn't be important if I never met him. I should play the lottery.

One night, I was invited to go to the local sub shop for a night of Bingo (don't ask, this is a story in itself) and I decided to go with friends from the dorm. My friend, Erik, ran into one of his buddies and introduced us all. The guy, tall, lanky, red hair, and glasses, sat down with us at the table. He was not bad looking and he did have a good brain. I didn't really chat with him much because of the big group, but I wasn't afraid of him or anything. Chris sat with us for an hour before leaving.

Two days later, as I was heading back to the dorm from class, Chris stopped me. I recognized him from the night of Bingo and so we chatted for a few minutes. You know, the which direction are you headed? and What classes are you taking this semester? small talk. He asked me for my number. Since I was innocent and never believed this was the Chris my friend warned me about, I gave it to him. I saw no reason not to.

He called me 35 times in the next seven days. That's right. 35 times.

The first couple of calls weren't so bad, I just realized in talking to him I had no interest. He was intelligent, but also arrogant and he obviously didn't listen to voice tone. I was polite and I did give the first few conversations a chance.

By the fifth call, it sounded like this:

Ring (I didn't have caller ID), I pick up:
B: Hello?
C: Hi Beth! This is Chris. How are you?
B: Fine.
C: I was watching the baseball game on T.V. Do you like baseball?
B: Not really.
C: I love it. I played in high school. The score is 10-4 right now and the bases are loaded. Do you know insert some player's name I can't remember? He's great.
B: I don't know him and I don't like baseball.
C: Well, he's fantastic. You should watch the game.
B: I don't like baseball.
C: What are you doing?
B: Studying.
C: You should watch the game.
B: How dense can he be??? I DON'T like baseball.
C: Why not?
B: I don't really like sports.
C: But you should. They are great. I love sports, especially baseball.
B: And you think that's going to change my mind?
C: Well, you should watch the game. You'd like it.
B: I met you at a bar while people were playing Bingo and you know that I'm taking an astronomy class to fill my science credits. What in those facts made you think that I would just instantly become the world's biggest baseball fan???
C: What are you doing tomorrow?
B: I have to work.
C: I'll call you later. Bye!

My thoughts that this guy was intelligent started to go away. They packed up their bags, hopped on the train, and got out of Dodge.

The next call:
C: Hi Beth! What are you doing?
B: I have a friend hanging out and we're watching some anime T.V. show that I don't remember.
C: Oh. I just finished watching the baseball game. Wanna know who won?
B: No.
C: Are you busy?
B: I do have company over.
C: Okay. So why don't you like baseball?
B: I think it's boring. I have company over.
C: I think you should give it a chance.
B: Do I need to explain the fact there is someone over again?
C: I love baseball. Are there any sports you like?
B: Hockey. Again, I have company over and I don't want to be rude to them. If there is no emergency, I'd ask for this call to be over.
C: Hockey is okay. I couldn't play it though. It's too violent.
B: I wish someone would body check you right now. Are we done here?
C: I really like baseball.
B: Are you really that dense?
C: Baseball is the great American pasttime.
B: No shit. Goodbye.
C: I'll call you later.

The next day:
C: Hi Beth! How are you? What are you doing?
B: I can't believe you actually called again.
C: I was going to go work out but thought I'd call you first.
B: Why?
C: So you'd know I was working out.
B: And I need to know?
C: Where did you go to high school?
B: Fridley.
C: Oh. I knew a girl from Fridley once. We dated for a long time. It was special but I had to end it.
B: You went out with someone from Fridley?
C: Yeah.
B: Who?
C: Her name was Laura (name changed to protect the innocent).
B: What was her last name?
C: He tells me my best friend's last name.
B: You dated her for a long time?
C: Yeah. We went to Valleyfair once. It was wonderful.
B: How long did you date her?
C: Oh, we went out so many times and it lasted about two months.
B: Two months is not a long term relationship.
C: It meant a lot to us.
B: Who is us?
C: Laura and I.
B: You're a liar.
C: What makes you say that?
B: Laura is my best friend and she happens to remember one date and then you stalking her.
C: We went to Valleyfair though. And we talked on the phone all the time!
B: Did she ever call you?
C: Um, no.
B: Take that as a hint that she didn't actually want to talk to you.
C: Will you go out with me?
B: What?!? Are you on crack?
C: I really like you.
B: I'm mean to you hoping you'll get the hint that we have nothing in common other than the fact we both attend the same university. Stop calling me.
C: Do you have a boyfriend?
B: Yes. (Forgive me Father, I lied.)
C: What's he like?
B: Normal. And he doesn't force me to listen to dribble about baseball.
C: I really like baseball.
B: Goodbye.

He called me five times a day for the next week. Then he got a job cleaning the hallways in my dorm. I couldn't get away from him. I just started being meaner and avoiding him as much as possible. After a week of screening my calls, I learned that campus calls rang differently than outside calls. I started having my friends get an outside line before calling me. He finally got the hint.


I knew this guy who actually picked a nickname so he'd be similar to a rodent. This was voluntary. Mouse was a friend of mine. I actually had some good conversations with him, but there was no romantic feelings involved. Maybe I was wrong in thinking men and women can be friends without having to make out.

The advances from Mouse were unnoteworthy until the day a friend of mine told him she wasn't interested. Then I was his full attention.

There were no single conversations that bothered me about Mouse. It was an overall experience. Maybe I'm too picky, but here's the things that bothered me:
Unemployed and not looking for a job.
Living with his "Ma."
Smelled of marijuana ALL THE TIME.
Liked to talk about guns but not for sport.
Told me a story about a time he got mad at his cat and literally beat the crap out of it.
Had a son from a previous relationship that he wasn't allowed near.
Liked having the nickname of a rodent.
Was over 10 years older than me and I hadn't dated anyone more than 3 years from my age before.

The one thing we could talk about was Stephen King novels. That was it.

Any wonder that I didn't jump at the opportunity presented? I think the story about him beating up his cat (which he brought up as a positive aspect of his personality) scared me the most.

Uncle Ga-ga

Imagine a woman nine months pregnant with triplets. Imagine her wearing a horizontal striped t-shirt (ALL THE TIME). Imagine her using her car keys to clean out her ears. Now picture her as a man. That was Uncle Ga-ga.

Uncle Ga-ga was not a bad guy. I wasn't interested in him for a few reasons. He also lived with his mom (this is not a bad thing, it's just that when you're over 35, it's not cool). He worked occasionally but had trouble holding down jobs. The belly was probably due to the amount of beer he consumed (and beef jerky, he ate a lot of beef jerky). He was a touchy-feely person too.

The nickname came from his nephew who couldn't pronounce his name. Cute right? Until he started having everyone call him Uncle Ga-ga. Then it took on a creepy, pedophile quality. I don't want to be intimate with anyone crying out, "Oh, Uncle Ga-ga, give it to me!" Sorry for that image.

He started calling me all the time. I just got weird vibes from him and started screening my calls. I haven't heard from him in about 8 months now and that's a good thing.

Texas Walker Ranger

Yes, I know the show is Walker, Texas Ranger but this man got the name from someone I worked when I was a bank teller. TWR also looked slightly like Chuck Norris, just not as good looking. And I'm not a Chuck Norris fan. He's not a bad guy, he just doesn't do it for me.

Did you know that bank tellers and T.V. anchorwomen are commonly stalked? This was not a fact I enjoyed hearing while I worked in the branch. I guess tellers appeal to certain types of men because they smile (if they want to keep their jobs) and give out money.

TWR used to come into the branch I worked at (he probably still does), wearing the same purple tank top and cut-off denim shorts each time. All of the tellers at our branch had problems with him.

TWR seemed to think greasing himself up to go to the branch was a good idea. He would come in dripping in either oil or sweat about every three days. He would never get a cash card because that would take away from his precious "flirting" with the girls behind the counter.

TWR would show up in the window and lean on the counter towards the girl counting the money. Here's a hint, when the teller has been trained in potential robbery situations, this does not put her at ease. The added 'benefit' of having TWR in your window was having to use cleaning solution after he left just to dispose of the residue he left behind.

I was 18 when TWR started aiming his attentions towards me. I think he had to be at least 36 then. He showed me a picture one day of his kids. The girl looked to be at least 13 years old. This man was technically old enough to be my father and he had an eye for me.

He came up to my window and tried to pass me a note. Here's another hint. If you want to ask a bank teller out, passing a folded note to her is NOT a good idea. I had images of him holding a pistol in his denim shorts (disgusting on multiple layers) and demanding for me to 'put the money in the bag.' Here is the conversation:

TWR: This is for you.
B: What?
TWR: It's my contact information. You could call me.
B: No I can't.
TWR: I thought you'd want to.
B: I'm sorry, we're not allowed to fraternize with customers. (Forgive me Father for I have sinned. I told another lie.)
TWR: Oh. Alright.

Let me just say, that little lie saved many a teller from the horror of TWR advances. I was revered!

Maybe I'm too picky when it comes to men. I'm looking for that intelligent man, the one who likes to discuss events, has a romantic side, is funny, and understands that my friends are the most important part of my life. I want him to be my friend and I his. I want him to respect my choices in life as I would respect his. I want him to want me for who I am, not how big my boobs are. This seems like too much to ask.


At 6:23 AM, CarpeDM said...

Oh, dear God in Heaven. That is crazy. My skin crawled after reading "Oh, Uncle Ga-ga, give it to me!"

Reminds me of the guy who tried to pick me up in the bar that looked like Adolf Hitler. When people would ask me why I wasn't interested, my response was "You know I'll slip. I'll suddenly cry out "Yes, Adolf, you big stud, you." That's not my idea of a good sweet nothing.

At 4:20 PM, Matt said...

Oh Lord God in Heaven! I know that Dana's skin crawled, but I laughed hysterically! Also at Dana's comment, you crack me up. I do not think that you are being picky, they better damn good to you, cause if they are not I do not know how to decide who should be baled out of jail first, Scott or me. I will talk to you later Little Sister.
Big Brother

At 10:28 AM, Firebear said...

Wow! thank you again, I love dating stories. Don't blame yourself for others' short comings!

Rock and Roll All Night

Melissa Etheridge, Lucky Tour

Tonight was the concert. Dana, Matt, and I went to see Melissa Etheridge in Minneapolis. Wow! The show was amazing.

My vocal chords got a big workout tonight, as well as my hips. We were all dancing in front of our seats for almost the entire show.

The points about the concert I want to make will seem a little random, I just want to get some of the experience out here.

First off, the atmosphere of the audience was uplifting. The room was filled with couples, sharing the experience of powerful music, meaningful words, and the comfort of everyone feeling welcome. It was almost as if you could reach out and touch the love. That's the best I can do to describe it.

She sang songs I didn't even think she would. A couple I figured were too old and not well known for her to rock the crowd with. I was touched with Silent Legacy, The Weakness in Me, and Tuesday Morning. I figured she might sing Tuesday Morning but it was a pleasant surprise to actually hear it live. I cried. I'll admit it. I cried. The Weakness in Me is actually a cover of a Joan Armatrading song. Melissa Etheridge played it on the piano beautifully.

A great surprise as we went in: the security guard told me I could take pictures as long as I didn't use a flash. Thus, the picture above. One thing I've learned about concerts, using a flash actually hurts the picture.

Most of the songs touch my heart in ways I hadn't realized they could. I relate to the lyrics and the emotion behind the lyrics. The songs are written in such a way that they are universal. I sang along with all of them. I looked over at one point and saw Dana jamming out. Matt kept moving to the beat.

After the concert, which we were able to get out easily, we went to the all-night diner and shared a few good laughs. Although I was home by 2:30 in the morning, I'm beat. I usually stay up later (the eternal nightlife of a vampire - I'm not really a vampire, don't worry), but the energy spent cheering, singing, and dancing has worn me out. I just needed to share the fact I had a wonderful time, I would recommend seeing Melissa Etheridge in concert to anyone. Come with an open mind and leave feeling powerful.


At 7:25 PM, rod said...

You've probably noticed how much I enjoy concerts. I'm glad you got to see this. Some of my students actually complain that I require them to attend concerts. I can't imagine.
Thanks for sharing it.

At 6:12 AM, CarpeDM said...

How could anyone complain about seeing a concert? There's something about the energy of live music that doesn't translate to the cd. The beat is more alive (which sounds extremely strange).

What a great time.

At 4:23 PM, Matt said...

I had a fantastic time at the concert, and I will say this, I wa a fan before the concert, but after I have so much more respect for her as an artist and a human being. Plus she is so damn hot!

Friday, September 24, 2004

Update to My Logical Vant against my school...

Finally today I heard from my counselor. Not yesterday, not when the error could have been corrected quickly and easily. No, today she called and emailed me back. ARGH!

I am frustrated about this situation because I planned on being in class from Sept 23 though Oct 27. The counselor did correct my schedule but I'm now taking the class starting next week. This doesn't help the fact that I have vacation time from work for Oct 26 and 27 to prepare for the final. Now the final won't be then. Wonderful.

The message was interesting to listen to (interesting does not mean good anymore). My counselor says, "You're right. This is strange and weird. I don't know how you ended up in algebra. I'll email you." I really love the fact that I specifically told her phone is not the best way to contact me. The ringing phone woke Dana up at what she refers to as "an un-Godly hour." It was noon. But when you're up until 6 AM making fun of commercials on T.V., noon is pretty un-Godly.

The email explained that she corrected the problem. It seems the fact I had passed the proficiency exam was lost. That's right, she lost it. And then she didn't bother to check the fact I was scheduled for a class with a pre-requisite of algebra when I've taken a different class already requiring algebra (and got an A in it!)

But it's resolved now. I'm happy about this. Stats will just start next week. Ugh.


At 7:22 PM, rod said...

At the beginning of every semester, I feel terrified that I am going to screw up someone's entire college career. It is terrifying because it can cost them thousands of dollars. And what could I do? "oh, sorry". Back when I first started, I had very difficult advisees - transfer students and associate degree people whose schedules are anything but normal. Once I forgot to put an associates degree student from Dominican Republic in English class. At graduation time, he was told he had to come back another semester. I was destroyed. Another semester out of the country for him. He actually took it quite well, to my surprise.
So, in the fall, he came back for English, ended up staying and finishing a bachelors degree, met a girl, got married... all because I screwed up his course of study.
I am so careful, because I know that another screw up may not turn out so well.I hope your stuff all works out.

At 6:10 AM, CarpeDM said...

I like Rod's example. Maybe you're destined to meet the man of your dreams in this class. It could happen. Your eyes would meet across the room and...oh, wait, you take this class online. Never mind.

I'm glad it was taken care of, Beth.

Wednesday, September 22, 2004

Don't make me bring a logical vant down on you people

Don't worry, you people does not refer to the adoring public of bloggers and blog readers. And the wrath inside me is probably only aimed at one person right now, but vanting will help me remain composed in my dealings with my school counselor.

First off, I'm finally going back to school. It has always (for as long as I can remember) my ultimate goal was the college degree. I'm close, yet there are things keeping me from my walk down that aisle to grab that diploma.

I attend an online university because I work nights, the schedule is convenient, and the thought of saving gas money and parking (plus the hassle of snow, etc) appealed to my brain. Only about 1/2 my credits from the University of Minnesota transferred, but I stayed optimistic. 'I'll just KNOW those subjects even better.'

Overall my experience at this online university has been positive. I said overall though. I had one teacher who I couldn't stand (I'll explain in a moment) and my counselor is pretty much worthless. I'm sure she spreads worth in her own life, just doesn't add anything to mine.

My first gripe about the school. I have a credit card I used only to set up my account with them and the bill goes to my mom's house (I knew I was moving and wanted to keep a permanent address). I go online, pay my tuition with the school on another credit card and it won't automatically bill this card I have. I went online and paid my tuition last year. I hit the button that said, "Pay Bills." As I later found out, they billed me for a 'technology fee' of $50. They didn't send a bill, an email, or anything. The $50 charge did not show up with my tuition of over $1,000. I didn't even know about it. I would have gladly paid it. I understand it's a part of my going to school.

Long story short (too late), the school charged this fee to my credit card that I don't actually use. The first bill from this credit card didn't seem to make it to my mom's and I found a bill two months later with two late fees on it (and the bad mark on my credit - this is the part that really irks me). I paid it instantly. This was not the credit card company's fault in any way, so I didn't bother them with it. I did express concerns to the school about their ways of billing their students.

Gripe #2: I took an English class online, paying another $1,200 (yes, the school is expensive. This is what convenience means to me.) After I was done with the class that seemed rather easy, I get an email from my guidance counselor. Note the keyword, AFTER. The basic principle in the email was, "I was looking over your file. I think you don't need to take this English class. You should test out of it and save yourself the cost of that class." Yes, it is my fault that I didn't question this requirement. But then, I'm paying for the convenience of having my courses laid out for me, not having to worry about which class to take first and the wonderful horror of, 'Now that I have the perfect schedule, I hope I can get the classes I need!' My program is set up by the counselor. It's her JOB to know my file and the files of the other students she has. One mistake would have been tolerable. See, I'm willing to take a $1,200 loss to my budget at this point.

My third gripe with the school: This one deals solely with the last teacher I had. During the class (statistics), I asked the teacher for some feedback. Here is a rendition of the posts between myself and the teacher:
Me: I was just wondering when we'd get the graded assignments back. I would like to know if I've grasped this concept before trying to move onto the next one and doing it wrong since the concepts build on each other.
Teacher: I'm not ready to send them back yet. If you want to know how you did, you just need to ask.
My reply (in email this time): You stated I could ask how I did on the last assignment. How did I do? Do I have the concept correct?
Teacher's response: I'm not done grading them. You'll get yours back in two weeks. Keep in mind our classes are only 5 weeks long and two weeks would have been AFTER the final was due.
Two weeks later I get this:
Teacher: I never received the assignment (the one in question). You don't get credit for it.
My response (and I took time crafting it, believe me): I turned that assignment in the day it was due. Here's the information about the sent file and here's my saved copy. One question, when I asked you how I did on that assignment, would that have been a good time to mention you never got it?
Teacher: Your grade is "XX".

She actually had the gaul to knock points off for it being late. It wasn't late. Here's a question, if I had not turned in assignment, why would I draw attention to this fact by posting to the ENTIRE class in our newsgroup when we'd get the assignment back?

Gripe #4: The counselors sign the students up for the next class. To withdrawal, there is paperwork involved. My counselor never signed me up for a class at the beginning of this year. I have no clue why. None, what-so-ever. My counselor called me one day (early in the morning too - those who know I work nights understand the horror in this) demanding me to send paperwork in about a withdrawal I never requested.

At this point, I took it as a sign and did withdraw for a period of nine months. With money being tighter than before and an upcoming move (plus needing a new computer), I decided a cooling off period was better than what my impulses told me to do.

This brings me to my current state. I was scheduled to start class today. Notice the past tense in that phrase.

I went to the student website about a week and a half ago to make sure I could find it. I pulled out my old stats book and studied (poor Dana, having the deal with this). I emailed my counselor and asked for the tech support phone number to help me configure this new computer for Outlook Express as my school inbox, classroom, etc. When I went online at that time, I was scheduled for RES/342 - the second part of statistics. I downloaded the syllabus, the readings, the assignments. All that jazz.

Tonight, I arrived home from work, ready to go to class. The classroom isn't usually viewable until the night before the class starts and this is perfect for me. I couldn't get in.

I went back to the student website, signed in, and found I'm no longer scheduled for RES/342. I'm now scheduled for MTH/208 - College Algebra. And it doesn't start until next week.

Here's a little background. I am good at math. This is a skill I had since I was extremely small (how many three year olds do you know that can make change for a twenty accurately and teaches math to her friends in the neighborhood that are three years older than her?). I took algebra in 8th grade. By the time I graduated high school, I had college credits in Calculus 1 and 2. I enjoy math, but I don't think I want to pay $1,200 for a class where I'm going to be unchallenged.

More background: I took the proficiency test for the math credit at this school. It took me 14 minutes (they gave us an hour) and I got 100%.

And now my counselor seems to think I need to take algebra. Understand my frustration. I'm trying to remain calm about this. I'm succeeding, but only by vanting about this situation.

I emailed my counselor tonight and asked her to correct this. I did this politely, it took all the customer service skills in the world for me to do this, but I did do it politely and professionally. I'm hoping that this gets fixed quickly and I don't end up being delayed another 5 weeks to take RES/342. I hope I'm not too far behind the class to catch up when I finally get enrolled. I really hope that I can have this all cleared up by tomorrow night. 5 week courses move fast and I can't afford the delay.

That's all for tonight folks.

Long days and pleasant nights. (I'm still in Roland's world...)


At 8:47 AM, Matt said...

Lil' Sis,

I now know the other profession that you can guess at and goof around at and still get paid for being half correct. Your post has shown me that not only do meteoroglists get paid to guess and goof, but now so do online college counselors. Whant an ass! Not even a nice one either. Hope it all goes well, say thankya.

Big Brother

At 10:01 AM, CarpeDM said...

That is so, so, so stupid! Argh! I'm sorry. I want to email her now and say "Hello, do you know how much I suffered with statistics and now you pull this? How could you?" Plus, there's all of your suffering. Dang her.

Anyway, I don't go back on the phones until 3 today so call me. I'm thinking 2:30? Would that work?

At 11:37 AM, The Lioness said...

The thing I find most admirable about you is not that you managed to write her a polite letter and keep your manner the whole time. Hard as it may be for you to believe so would I (years of experience writing AI letters for killers all over the world, known everywhere else as Kings and Presidents).

But you are polite EVEN while writing about it IN YOUR BLOG!!! Elegant vants, a grace I shall never possess. Frankly, I think it would kill me. Kudos for you!

It's over

I just finished the book, put the lumbersome thing on the shelf and I'm thinking about going to bed. This seems a little odd, since I've done pretty much nothing but read all day (and night) long.

To the person out there in the void where I heard, "Unlikely ally" from, MY ASS! Sorry. I don't usually swear, but I disagree with this statement.

I broke into uncontrollable sobs (which tends to delay the reading, it's hard to keep turning pages when you can't actually read the words) 7 times in this book. I wept slightly at the end but my mind is such a jumbled mess right now, I'm not really sure if I actually read the afterword. I think I did. I really need to go to bed.

My opinion on the book is still undetermined. Let's see what my dreams tell me of Roland's grand quest.

And make no doubt about it, it's all about the quest.

To quote Roland Deschain: Ka is a wheel.

And to quote Eddie Dean: Ka? Ka? Ka-ka.

Tuesday, September 21, 2004

Book Update

I'm not really writing about what the book is about here, just what I'm feeling. I got 300 pages into it and had to go to bed. I just did.

My dreams were quite strange, I'll tell you that. Not scary, just odd. I kept dreaming about reading the book and I was getting really annoyed with the parts my dreams came up with. I think I'm afraid Stephen King is going to play a joke on his readers and my dreams captured this.

One thing I did notice about King's writing in this book. There are no qualms about killing off major characters. I'm shocked at how quickly some characters can die (good and bad characters, although I'm referring here to a bad character). I have to say, I excepted a whole lot more to one character's story.

I've broken into tears three times so far. I'm keeping note of this for my big brother (I won't say when until he's done reading). I've found a couple of the connections to other stories.

It probably won't happen, but I'm waiting, hoping for connection to IT, the first Stephen King book I read on my own (my mom read Eyes of the Dragon to me many times as a child, wonderful story). Most people love The Stand, and I will say it's a great story, but IT touched my heart. I think I like it most when King writes about children. Maybe it was because I was a child when I read IT. IT is the book I've read the most often and cried every time I put it down, because the story was over, because the characters I'd grown to love would no more "speak" to me a new tale.

I slept for about 7 hours and now I'm refreshed and ready to pick the book back up. I put it down last night because I was getting a little annoyed with it. The story moves fast and King uses the "there's not enough time for us to explain right now" a little too much. It's a good trick for him to use to keep secrets about the ending though.

To Matt, the illustration with the plates, I definitely had the wrong person. And I can't believe how wrong that I was. I smacked myself in the forehead when I realized who it was. Duh!

1 Hour 31 minutes to go...

I wrote this earlier this evening. Please forgive my constant thoughts regarding the Dark Tower series. I am obsessed. I am taking a slight break from my reading to post:

I am sitting at the all-night diner awaiting my big brother to show up and play cards with me. The anticipation of holding THE BOOK in my hands is growing. Tonight has been spent doing anything I could to kill time. Spider solitaire seems to have been the primary focus to distract my tormented mind.

I know someone (a main character) will find their path in the clearing, early in this final book. I have my theories of who this will be. I know Roland will have an "unlikely ally" help him in his quest for the Tower. I also have theories about who this is. Yet I sit and await the moment I have the book in my hands. Note: I have gotten through the first part, I know which character found their path in the clearing. I have not found the unlikely ally yet, or at least I don't think so.

God, I'm obsessed!

As much as I want the book, I feel sad. Have you ever read a story with a happy ending and cried just because it's over? Have characters ever felt so real to you that putting the book down feels like saying that final goodbye? I feel this will be the case when I finish this book. I want more STORY.

I think this is why I love blogging. You can find someone whose story moves you. Then they have more posts. Every blogger is a storyteller. It may not be fiction, it may not be fact, but it is what a person felt important enough to share. There are stories that must be told. There are stories one must hear. The Dark Tower is one of those stories to me. The links on this page are also stories I must hear. I feel that.

I guess this post is also a Thank You to all those who share their stories with me (and the world). I laugh, I cry, and I enjoy. So I say "thankya big-big!"

Yes, I'll probably talk as if I'm in Roland's world for awhile. Forgive me.


The tower grows closer still.

The illustrations are amazing in this book. I can just say, "WOW!" I've finished the first part of the book and I have let a few tears trickle down my face. I won't say if they are tears of sadness or of tenderness. I must read on.


At 10:44 AM, Matt said...

Lil Sister,

I started to read the book, I'm sorry, THE BOOK last night and I ma currently close to 60 pages into it, I wish I could be as afr as you are right now so we can discuss and whatnot more than just, have you made it this far? Have you read this yet? So far, it is one of his books that actually grabbed right from the first page, and did not let go. I loved the way that it began so quick, and in the middle of the action that way, it did not take so much time to build everything up. Can't wait to get home and read some more tonight.


At 12:06 PM, CarpeDM said...

I don't ever want to hear another word when I want to stop in the book section again. And I seem to remember jeering when I mentioned how excited I was to read Remember When because JD Robb and Nora Roberts wrote the book together.

What was it you said? Hmm? I think it was "They're the same person!"

Yeah. They are. But I am as addicted to their work as you are to Stephen King's.

I agree with you about the whole blogging is reading stories that grab you. It's a cool analogy and I'm going to steal it...I mean borrow.

Monday, September 20, 2004

Chip is ready to go home, eat, and rest - What an adventure!


At 6:38 PM, CarpeDM said...

Hi, Chip!

What a great picture. I just want to pet him.

Evening Falls

Posted by Hello

Rice Creek in Fridley, Minnesota

Posted by Hello

Mom carries Taco

Posted by Hello

This picture is a little fuzzy but this is Taco peeking out of the underbrush.


At 7:08 PM, CarpeDM said...

Oh, Taco, you are so cute.

A Walk in the Woods

You can never go home again. I don’t necessarily believe that. I know I can’t go back to the times of when I lived at my mom’s house, where my parents made sure I got up for school everyday and where our family sat around the kitchen table playing Sheepshead (the card game this blog is named for) all night long. This won’t ever be the case again. Things do change and you can’t go back to a different time.

What you can do is visit often, take pictures, and relive memories. My dog, Chip, turned 13 in human years this past week. My mom had a party for him (no, not one with other dogs and birthday hats. Don’t be that afraid) where a few of her friends came over for a cookout. The dog’s birthday is an excuse to get friends to enjoy a visit. Everyone had a good time. Each of the dogs (Taco is the other) got some hamburger and the cat (Mac) had a little extra tuna (yes, the cat is the namesake of Matt’s blog, The Window Licking Cat). A friend of the family gave Chip gift certificates for McDonald’s cheeseburgers. Chip had the best birthday ever!

I was unable to make the party (I had to work) so my mom asked me to come over today to give Chip a good tummy scratching. I went over to the house today and saw my babies. Yes, they are the babies. I know, I know, our family is one of those weird ones that adore the pets. The dogs (and cat) are important members of the family. I’m pretty sure my mom loves them more than me (well, maybe). As odd as my mom can be (see Post #100 and My Mother Finally Became Blog Worthy), she knows what is important to her and she lives her life focusing on these things. Taco, Chip, and Mac are number ones on her list. The pets are spoiled but then, if they create such joy and happiness in someone’s life, don’t they deserve the best?

In the interest of photography, spending time with the pets, and scrapbooking, I suggested we take a trip to the woods by our old home. That’s right, we were going to G-O for a W-A-L-K in the W-O-O-D-S! Taco and Chip used to only know the word ‘walk’. Then they learned ‘woods’ and finally, anytime we said ‘go’ they would get excited.

We hopped in the cars and took off for adventure. Taco is 17 and Chip is 12 so the time in the woods is shorter than it used to be. It was still a great time. When we got there, Mom carried Taco down to the path (to save his energy for the fun part). Chip ran back and forth, crying because Taco wasn’t right next to him. Talk about brotherhood. Taco is the world to Chip. We used to say that Chip was Taco’s dog, not the family’s. Anytime Chip is not right next to Taco he worries. He loves him so much. This warms my heart.

The boys explored the underbrush as Mom and I chatted. I got a little exercise (not a bad thing) and I feel at peace. The woods are a beautiful place to escape for a bit. I am going to post a few pictures of the day on the blog to share in the experience.

I got to thinking about previous adventures with Taco and Chip in the woods. Thinking about them makes me want to share them. It’s not that they are the best stories, they just explain how wonderful it is to have a pet as part of your life.

Chip is terrified of water. We got him from a pet shop and he’s been skittish from day one. He may be skittish, but he’s also daring. He is interested in anything new and he likes to check out different sounds. The first loud sound will make him jump but then bravery will kick in and he’s there, creeping towards the sounds trying to figure out what it was. When he was very little (the first summer we had him) we took him to the woods. He heard the creek trickling by and he stood on the shoreline checking out the sound. Frogs jumped back and forth, trying to dodge his little feet. As Chip was sniffing the ground, the ground gave out on him! Splash! Suddenly, Chip was in the water, scrambling to get back to the shore. He didn’t go in far, it just surprised him. Once he got back to the new shoreline, Chip shook himself off and stared at the water. We could just see the thoughts processing in his head. He backed away from the water, confused as to how that happened, and then decided to enjoy the rest of his time in the woods.

Taco has always been an adventure dog, an explorer. He loves little caves and places that are just the right size for him. As a puppy, Taco would take the chances to run out the front door for an adventure. It scared me every single time. Luckily, nothing bad ever happened. There were times when Taco would escape (and he always came home on his own fifteen minutes later) and run for the woods. He’d take off in the clearings, checking out the noises in the fields of tall grass (a.k.a. overgrown weeds). He’d come home with a satisfied look on his face, as if to say, "I learned about … today." Taco is getting very old and he’s running out of energy. The adventures are not as frequent anymore but whatever chance we have to give him happiness will be taken. He has given my family more happiness than we could have ever thought.

On the subject of Taco’s age, I want to explain how wonderful my mom is. Even if she acts crazy, there is no one better to take care of these wonderful dogs. My dad used to say that if reincarnation were what happens, he’d like to come back as one of my mom’s pets. There is no life better. Taco’s eyesight is going and he’s getting a little disorientated when he walks. He won’t go down the stairs at night anymore. My mom will get up in the middle of the night to carry him outside if he needs to go. She built him a ramp to get onto the bed. Today she showed her love for him by carrying him to the point of the walk where he would have the most fun. When that was over, she carried him back to the car. There is nothing my mom wouldn’t do for Taco and Chip. Why? Because they gave her love.

When my mom comes home from work, Taco will be sleeping on the floor. She’ll get down next to him and "play fight". He’ll wake up and his tail will wag back and forth. He may be slower than he was as a puppy, he might not see as well as he once did, but he still loves life.
A funny note about my mom. She just called me because she thought Chip was 13. This didn’t seem right to me and I questioned it tonight. When she called, she told me that she did miscalculate and he’s only 12 years old. This reminded me of when I turned 23. I went to dinner with my mom and she wished me a Happy 22nd Birthday. I was talking to her last week about having a day off this week and she said, "For your birthday?" I explained that I was born in October and her response was, "Oh yeah! I was there!"

I love her. And I love my dogs. They are a reason for joy.


At 8:12 PM, The Lioness said...

You too are a reason for joy.

At 6:50 PM, CarpeDM said...

What a great post, Beth. I loved reading about Taco and Chip's big day.

Your mom is great. What a wonderful story of her devotion.

I know you're going to be like this as well. There was the comment "Oh, you won't go into the nursing home. I'll take care of you." I will never forget that (okay, I probably will because I forget everything but I'll never forget how I felt when you said that. You're so dang awesome).

324-06 (Disc # - Track # for those not familiar with karaoke)

There are rules to karaoke and one that should be added is, 'If you're going to make fun of a song, have the guts enough to embarrass yourself by singing it.' Tonight seemed to be "Embarrass yourself Sunday" in honor of the previous "New Song Sunday".

The first song I sang tonight in the spirit of embarrassment was a song I hate. I mean this. It's a song where the singer whines the entire song. I sang, "Stay" by Lisa Loeb. Why? To make fun of it. That's the sole reason.

I was looking through the book, trying to find something new and fun, and I joked to Michael, "Should I sing _____?"

Michael's response, "Yeah! I'll sing it with you!"

I was not allowed to back out of this joke. My turn came around and Michael and I headed to the stage, ready to frighten the filling bar. Even Bryan was afraid of our choice.

Are you on the edge of your seat yet? What could possibly so odd for me to sing?

The answer:

Enter Sandman by Metallica.

That's right. I sang Metallica tonight. I didn't even realize I knew the song as well as I did. I guess this is what I get from years of being a pool hall junkie.

Surprise came to myself and Michael as we sang the song and realized it wasn't as terrible as we thought it would be. There may even be a repeat of the performance.

Dana came up with an interesting idea tonight while flipping through the book of songs. She'll be posting soon (be sure to check out: Green Duckies and Other Tales of Dana). I tried to help with this series of ideas and if popular, there may be many to come.

I did find a song in the book I didn't realize was there tonight. Mercy, Mercy Me by Marvin Gaye. I mentioned this to Bryan at the end of the night. He told me he's sang it before and he said he'd sing it in the future for me. I may just die of happiness. There are so many opportunities for growling in this song.

I need a moment.

Okay, moment's over.

We're planning on karaoke again next Sunday. It's just too much fun. There is always an open invitation to join us and we love big groups.

For those Tower junkies (and to annoy Dana), at this time it's less than 21 hours until I can hold the last book in my hands. In my obsession, I've been watching westerns.

From the Magnificent Seven.

"That's the best shot I've ever seen." As a man falls off his horse in the distance.

"Worst. I was aiming at the horse."


At 5:36 PM, CarpeDM said...

Ah, the subtle differences between "Embarrass Yourself" Sunday and "New Song" Sunday. To the eyes of the untrained mortals, it may appear that they're exactly the same thing. But we know differently. We're in the know. We're cool.

I think there should be a "Going to the Wheel" Sunday. Followed by lots and lots of drinking. Which we don't do. I am striking the previous comment.

Saturday, September 18, 2004

The Kissing Game

In honor of the Kissing Game, it is time to finally tell my story of my first boyfriend, Paulie.

Paulie went to a different school, ah, a man of mystery, and I met him through a bowling league. He had a youthful innocence to about him (translation: he was short, young, and immature), but then, so did I (translation: I was young, stupid, and didn't understand that most boys can actually grow out of bathroom humor).

Back in the days of inexperience, I remember my feeling of joy reading Paulie's note to me, asking me out. It went like this:

"Hi Beth! I'm at school and wanted to say hello! Hello! I'm in math class right now. English is my next class. Will you go out with me? Now I'm in English. I'll see you when I give this to you. Bye! Paulie"

Ah, the dreaded note. I, to this day, do not understand the fascination held in "THE NOTE." Why did I have the desire to write stupid, meaningless things to my friends (such gems as, "I went to lunch," and "Oh, that Kevin, he's so cute. I really, really like him. I would just DIE if he knew!") and feeling the need to have someone give me a note back. I seem to remember having a "NOTE" book that a friend and I passed back and forth all year long once. It seems foolish and lame now, looking back on my school years as a fully-functioning adult.

While I'm off subject, what the heck does "going out" mean? It should imply the couple actually goes on dates right? In school, this always seemed to be silly. No one actually went out on dates. It usually meant you had a special someone to pass notes to in class.

Where was I? Oh right, Paulie, his note, and his question. How could I, a girl of 16, respond to such a well-presented request? Of course! <Smacking myself in the forehead> I said yes. It wouldn't be much of a story for me to have said no, would it?

So I was "going out" with Paulie. After one week of us "going out," (okay, the next time I actually saw him), Paulie gave me a rose he picked up at the gas station when his mom stopped to fill up her tank that morning. How romantic. My silly little heart swelled with the sentiment. Yeah, right. The rose died, as all uprooted plants will eventually.

A couple of weeks later, we arranged an actual date! Paulie and I, along with four other people (the classic group date - no pressure) decided to see The Lion King at the run-down, bad neighborhood dollar theater. I paid my own way.

I sure can find the winners huh? And to think, this was probably the best boyfriend I've had to this day. At least he was a decent human being.

I mentioned Paulie's youthful innocence before. Let me elaborate. Paulie kept changing the words of Hakuna Matata to the phrase, "I like Madonna." I have repressed the additional imaginative lines he created, I think they involved parts of Madonna's anatomy.

Oh baby oh.

I did not giggle like a school girl (even though I was one) at his rendition of the song. The other boys with us seemed to think Paulie was the next Robin Williams. He wasn't.

Our second date involved a high school play. My school was putting on Phantom of the Opera because the director of our school seemed to believe Fridley was the next Broadway. I bought tickets and we had seats near the stage. During the show, dry ice was used to create mist and Paulie started to freak out. We were not even near the mist but he started to panic. I guess the mist would bother his asthma or something. Paulie was just a happenin' dude.

One day at bowling, Paulie was listening to his Walk-Man. His new tape was Bon Jovi's Crossroads album. He made me listen to track #4, Always. He told me, "This is how I feel about you." I should have ended it right there. There is no way at our age that he truly felt this way and I know I didn't really like him more than a friend. The lyrics are at the bottom of this post.

A couple of weeks after the second date, we had a third date. I'm sure there were more than 3, I only remember these specifically though. We went, where else, bowling. To get away from the group, Paulie used the excuse that he left something in my car. He wanted me to go open the car up for him.

We went outside to my car, standing in the spring air outside the bowling alley. Paulie reached into his bag in the trunk and pulled out a gold bracelet. It did have actual gold in it (later I found out his mom bought it for him to give me) and he put it on my wrist. Then he kissed me.

I remember the kiss. If it hadn't been my first, I doubt it would have lingered. You know how some elderly people have soft, mushy skin? Like my grandma. Her skin is healthy, just old. His lips felt like when I hug my grandma.

The bracelet's clasp broke two days later. I never did have it fixed.

Paulie and I broke it off a few months later when summer came. It wasn't because of anything in particular, we just didn't see each other. We actually went out a second time, the next school year and bowling season. I ended that relationship because we were better friends than a couple. We talked throughout high school and I even kept in contact up until about four and a half years ago. One night, Paulie came up to the pool hall I hung out at and went to dinner with my friend and I after it closed. She asked us, "Why don't you two go out?" We looked at each other, and I told her, "We're better as friends." I hope Paulie is doing well. He's a good guy, just not the guy for me.

As promised:


Performed by Bon Jovi

This Romeo is bleeding, but you can't see his blood
It's nothing but some feelings
That this old dog kicked up
It's been raining since you left me
Now I'm drowning in the flood
You see I've always been a fighter
But without you I give up

Now I can't sing a love song
Like the way it's meant to be
Well, I guess I'm not that good anymore
But baby, that's just me

1 - Yeah, I will love you, baby
Always and I'll be there
Forever and a day, always

2 - I'll be there, till the stars don't shine
Till the heavens burst and the words don't rhyme
I know when I die you'll be on my mind
and I'll love you, always

Now your pictures that you left behind
Are just memories of a different life
Some that made us laugh
Some that made us cry
One that made you have to say goodbye

What I'd give to run my fingers thru your hair
Touch your lips, to hold you near,
When you say your prayers, try to understand
I've made mistakes, I'm just a man

When he holds you close, when he pulls you near
When he says the words
You've been needing to hear, I'll wish I was him
'Cause these words are mine, to say to you
'Til the end of time

(repeat 1)

If you told me to cry for you, I could
If you told me to die for you, I would
Take a look at my face
There's no price I won't pay
To say these words to you

Well, there ain't no luck in these loaded dice
But baby, if you give me just one more try
We can pack up our old dreams, and our old lives,
We'll find a place, where the sun still shines

(repeat 1,2)


At 6:27 AM, CarpeDM said...

Okay. Pretty lyrics, don't think I've ever heard the song but he plays it for you and says this is how I feel about you? What the hell is that?

Because, if I'm reading this correctly, this is a pretty depressing song about some guy who lost his girlfriend to another guy. And he's standing outside in the rain, quite possibly stalking her, singing about how he will always love her. Did he tell her that before she left him? Probably not.

Why is it that I'm always drawn to the songs first? Anyway, Paulie, wow. I can't believe you let him get away.

Do I Look Sweet and Sugary to You?

This is just a quick post to explain the oddity occuring to me on my lunch break. I was sitting outside, enjoying the beautiful weather, warm, slight breeze, sun shining brightly in the distance, and writing notes about a post I've been meaning to write for ages. That post will be up by the end of the weekend, I swear. My word is my bond.

Back to the subject of this post

I am sitting outside, basking in the sunlight (yes, this is odd because of my fair skin), my wild red hair blowing about in the breeze. It sounds peaceful, doesn't it? I am wearing blue jeans and a bright yellow polo shirt today and writing in my mini-notebook with a green medical pen.

Suddenly, my peaceful moment is shattered. Two bees thought I was a flower and needed pollinating or something. One landed on my shoulder, scoping out my hair. The other landed on the pen I was holding, crawling around.

I hate bugs. I think I've mentioned this before. They taunt me, they are out to get me. Bees scare me as well, although not as badly as spiders. I am cautious around bees, I've been stung twice in my life and that was enough. I calmly (surprising, isn't it), looked at the bee on my shoulder and said, "Please go away." It magically understood and flittered off. Hurrah! Success!

The bee on my pen was a little more stubborn. Moving slowly, I lifted the pen back up and sideways. The bee realized it was not a flower stem and flew off into the distance. Crisis over.

I guess I just looked like a flower today with my bright colors. Maybe I'll wear black tomorrow...


At 8:06 PM, Rev said...

You've only been stung twice in your life? I've been stung twice in the past 10 days. I guess that's all part of being a mailman.

At 8:09 PM, CarpeDM said...

In the garden of life, friends are the flowers.Which, really, when you think of it, is kind of a stupid saying. Because if your friends are the flowers, the weeds are your enemies. But what else is there? What are the cucumbers? The doctor? I would say that tomatoes were IRS agents but you would be very upset with me because you like tomatoes. Although, now that I think of it, you might like IRS agents as well, since you are so fond of math.

I'm going to have to ponder this for awhile.

I am sorry that the bees tried to harsh your buzz (ha! get it! Bees = buzz! Oh, God, I'm such a dork).

Post #100

This is monumental. Tonight I am sitting here writing my 100th post to this blog. I have written about my disastrous dating life, meeting and dealing with stupid people, human rights, my family, posted pictures, and the most important thing to me in the world, my friends.

In honor of post #100 and a milestone, I am going to do some random blogging. I just couldn't decide which topic should be the focus.


A couple of days ago at work, I used my dad as an example of a NABABNA customer. He's the organized, normal person. A banker asked me what my dad was like.

My response, "He's normal, organized. He likes things to make sense and he's very logical and smart. He's funny and a great father."

The banker said to me, "He sounds very nice. What's your mom like?"

My response (I'm so sorry), "She's a freak."

In defense, my mom is a freak, but she's a super cool freak and she has her responsible side. She called me a week ago and she was crying.

B: "Mom, why are you crying?"

M: "I bought jeans today."

B: "Did they not fit or something?"

M: "No, they're bell bottoms!!!"

As a child of the late sixties and seventies, I guess flare jeans are something she just doesn't want anymore. Side note: one of my favorite outfits involves big flares and a shirt I swear hung in my mom's closet twenty years ago.

Another story about my mom and this may not be suitable for children.

My mother has a bit of defiant streak in her. The house where she lives (and I lived in) is adjacent to an Alcoholics Anonymous building. A war has been waged. She didn't start the fire, but she didn't put it out either.

The people from AA tend to dispose of their garbage over the fence into my mom's backyard. Since my mom doesn't like the devaluation of her property due to her backyard becoming a waste dump, she tends to yell at the random people in the parking lot, telling them to keep their crap and use a real dumpster.

Imagine my surprise, waking up one afternoon (I worked nights already), walking upstairs and finding my mother, standing in the backyard. This would not be so amusing except for the fact of what she was doing while she was standing in the backyard.

My mother, a woman only five foot four and petite, is standing facing the AA building. She is screaming, "You f-ing pr*cks! Keep your G-d*m sh*t out of my backyard. You stupid, ignorant c*cks! What the f*ck!" (Yes, she can make truck drivers and ex-marines blush.)

This is bad enough. If this was all I had seen, I would have chalked it up to a normal day. What makes the site of my mom in the backyard interesting is what she has found and is whipping over her head in a circular motion, getting ready to launch it back over the fence and probably wishing it will cause massive amounts of damage like a grenade. What is my mom holding while she's screaming?

A bright, neon orange dildo.

That's right. She found an orange dildo in the backyard. And this set her off on a roaring rampage.

Oh, how I wish I turn out like my dad. I love her, I truly do, I just don't want to be her. (On a positive side, I am actually closer in personality to my dad. He's always been one of my heroes and I'm a little bit of a daddy's girl.)

When Spackle and Duct Tape Just Won't Do

It is a known fact to my friends that I was a bowler in my childhood. Bowling was my life. My typical week consisted of school, bowling, school, bowling, school, bowling, bowling, bowling, bowling.

I was at home one evening, practicing my bowling swing. Did I mention that I'm a dork? If you didn't know, I'm a dork. It's okay, I've learned to accept it. So I was practicing my swing. I'm standing in the hallway, while my parents are at their bowling league, swinging my bowling ball back and forth, trying to keep the ball straight.

Disaster struck. As I was bringing the ball back down, I forgot where I was. I forgot I was standing in my hallway and not at the line of a lane looking at 10 pins taunting me to knock them down. Forgetting where I was did not help me that evening.

I let go of the ball.

I need to explain my bowling swing now I think. When I bowl, I have an unusual swing for a female. Most women bring the ball back in an arc, stopping at lower back level. Not me. My swing is about power. When I am bowling, my backswing brings the ball higher than my head. If I kept the arc going any more, I would probably topple over. There are bowling alleys with automatic scorers that also show the speed of the ball. Whenever I see young boys at these alleys, they are always goofing off, trying to throw the ball as fast as they can. Without effort, I still hit higher speeds than they do.

Now that I've explained my swing, remember the fact that I let go of the fourteen pound bowling ball in my family's hallway.

The wall never had a chance.

As a kid, I never really did anything requiring major punishment. Since punishment was a rarity, I was terrified of it. Actually, I still am. When I'm standing there, staring at the gaping hole in the wall, I freak out.

'Oh my God, Oh my God, Oh my God' keeps running through my head. 'What am I going to do to fix this? What are my parents going to say? They're never going to let me go bowling again.' I run into the basement and check out my dad's workbench. I have the thought in my head, 'Spackle will fix anything.'

Here's an interesting fact that my twelve-year old mind did not grasp: Spackle will not fill a bowling ball sized hole in drywall.

I think I cried for two hours waiting for my parents to get home and punish me. When my dad walked in the door, I went up to him and told him I needed to show him something. With my head hung low, I walked my dad over to the giant hole in the wall.

How does my dad react?

He laughed at me. He laughed very hard.

Two days later, he found a way to fix the hole. He put a board over it and made it into an access panel. My dad is the greatest.

The Tower Grows Closer

I annoyed Dana again tonight in my Dark Tower obsession. Here is what I said to her to make her roll her eyes (and this also helps reinforce my obsession for the Dark Tower story):

"Which Wal-Mart should I go to and buy the book? The one in Fridley is closer to me but the one in Stillwater had the books out the last times I needed to buy them. I would go to the Stillwater Wal-Mart because I'm sure I'll get it, but then I have a longer drive home and it would take away from precious reading time. What am I going to do?"

Yes, she laughed at me. I still don't know which Wal-Mart I'm going to at midnight on Monday. Less than 72 hours to go.

Open Karaoke Invitation

Dana and I are planning on karaoke on Sunday night again. Why? Because we love it! Come join us! Open Invitation - check here for details on how to get there.

Well, that's enough for tonight. Conan O'Brien just came on and I think I'm going to get ready for bed.


At 9:57 AM, rod said...

this is a VERY worthy 100th blog post.

At 12:28 PM, CarpeDM said...

Beth. Beth, Beth, Beth. And you think you're not funny. This was hilarious.

Rod's so right, this is a great 100th post.

At 1:39 PM, The Lioness said...

Hilarious, yes! That was the word I was going to use too - and am, in fact, using! And I'm fully unbiased bcs I don't know you, bright-red-haired person. Mazel tov on the 100th!

At 1:40 PM, The Lioness said...

DM, just the way you kept writing Beth's name made my day. I almost giggled - and mind you I'm no giggler. You rock!

At 2:49 PM, yobyol said...

congratulations on your 100th post. You have a great sense of humor and an excellent writing style.

Thursday, September 16, 2004

I made it out of clay...

I'm so excited! Barenaked Ladies have a Christmas album coming out and I knew this already. It's coming out on October 5th. I checked out their site today and found the information about the tracks.

BNL Christmas CD - This link will play music on your computer.

What is making me so excited is the fact that one of the tracks on the CD is "I Have a Little Dreidel." The reason I'm excited to hear this song has to do with the Sheepsheadians. We had a period of time (in the parking ramp after work), listening to tracks for hours. One that we ended up listening to often and had divided into parts is the South Park version of "I Have a Little Dreidel." I know the BNL version will be better and I just excited.

I had to share because it's BNL news and I love them.


At 4:52 PM, CarpeDM said...

Yay! Yay! BNL and Christmas music. How cool. Now all I need is for Rowan Atkinson to propose and an El Camino and I'll be the happiest girl in the universe.

Wednesday, September 15, 2004

Totally Cool Idea

Tonight, I was looking for blog ideas. I know there's stuff I'm supposed to write about (I will go through the blog notebook one of these days) but I found this really cool idea. There is a photoblog idea where you take 26 pictures and post them. Each picture is supposed to represent an item from the list.

I'm going to try this idea. I have no clue how long it will take me to complete this, but I'm going to try. The list the site came up with for September 2004 is:

1. frame
2. glass
3. arrow
4. numbers
5. small
6. open
7. fruit
8. wheel
9. plastic
10. cover
11. natural
12. saturday
13. multi-coloured
14. home
15. shadow
16. sticky
17. clean
18. foot
19. sport
20. round
21. group
22. man made
23. half
24. path
25. full
26. the end

As I come up with the pictures, I will update this post and hyperlink the pictures to these numbers.

Anyone interested is welcome to try this too. I'd love to see the ideas people come up with!


At 10:48 AM, CarpeDM said...

I love it! I'm going to have to try it myself.

At 1:18 AM, srmc said...

Wow! What a cool idea. I may have to try this. I am glad I stumbled across your blog. I will have to come back and see what photos you come up with.

At 1:02 AM, angelia said...

I like the fruit!