The Time Has Come

The walrus said.

And so, at his urging, this humble blog is moving to a NEW! BETTER! FUNNER! place.

The Blog Of Champions or at least the occasional diversion for the 6 of you.

Advertising: Way More Than An Aaron Spelling Workplace Conceit

Kick it off with a quote that will make you rethink your whole career? Okay. I'll read it.

And perhaps I need to pay a bit more attention to my current job at D&D.

Let It Snow!

We have only this moment, sparkling like a star in our hand... and melting like a snowflake. Let us use it before it is too late.
-Marie Beyon Ray

It Is No Measure Of Health To Be Well Adjusted To A Profoundly Sick Society.

I'm a bit under the weather today. But who could be surprised since the weather has been generally icky. The only hitch in the plan today (sleep, sleep, watch "Arrested Development", sleep) is work. Pray for me, my children, for I'm am on the edge of committing clienticide.

Those People

I make fun of them while becoming one of them. It's like pod people, but replace the pod with a dishwasher safe insulated mug. So, here's the deal: I love Starbucks.

Hold on there, cowboy. Don't ride off just yet. I have a whole explanation for you.

So, I don't drink coffee. Makes me long for the days of the vomitorium when heaving was socially acceptable. But I love tea. No, sassafrass, I don't go there to pay for hot water and a tea bag. I go there for the grande chai latte. And now I've discovered a new thing that will turn me into one of those stereotypical yuppie Volvo drivers - the incredibly specific order. No longer can I just order the grande chai. Oh no. Now I have to order the grande chai with whole milk, no water, in my red Starbucks cup. (Oh god. Just seeing it all typed out there makes me a little embarrassed.)

And yes, I could get a chai latte from any number of purveyors in my general area. The thing is, they're all too strong. Give me a chai from Hartford Coffee and I'm jittery and jumpy and my tongue's tingly and it's no fun at all. Coffeehouse in Lafayette Square? Move out of the way Condi Rice, I can solve the Mid East peace shit AND walk all the neighborhood dogs while writing the great American novel. Starbucks? Ahhh...utter mediocrity. The perfect blend of milky blandness - pepped up, but comfortably so. (I'm not sure that this admission that I like it because it's blah makes me appear worse or Starbucks.)

But, now I am so addicted to the grande chai with whole, no water, in a personal mug that I have to order it that way. And that's the worst part. It's not that I occasionally treat myself before work in the morning, it's not that I actually GO to Starbucks (everyone has at some point), it's that I have my little pet order that is utterly ridiculous. Fortunately, I'm starting to get to know all the employees at my local and with any luck they will just see me and know that's what I'm after so I don't have to actually utter those words again.

The Definitive List, For Me Anyway

My Favorite Sad Movie: "Dancer In The Dark"
My Favorite Funny Movie: "Three Amigos"
My Favorite Sad Song: "The Drugs Don't Work" by The Verve
My Favorite Happy Song: "Paper Moon" by Django Reinhardt
My New Favorite David Lynch Project: The Gucci fragrance commercial featuring the 70s and Freja Beha, Natasha Poly, and Raquel Zimmerman

And if you want more, like I did, watch the behind the scenes video. Isn't it so cute that Raquel can't dance? More glitter!

It's Not That I Don't Want To

Believe me, I love the snacky teen shows as much as the next girl. I was so smitten with "90210" that I used to get together with friends to watch. I was so goofy over "Buffy" that I'd yell at people who dared to call during the show. And now, everyone's obsessed with "Gossip Girl" on ye olde CW, but, frankly, I'm not. Only one lead is beautiful, the fashion is okay, the acting is meh, and the episode I've seen just didn't have any spark to it. So how can I get by in a world where even my favorite Fashionistas just love the thing?

Lunchtime Poll

So, this is what's called a Lunchtime Poll. Our topic - manners when calling a business. When you call a business do you immediately ask "Is this Laura?" (assuming you're looking for Laura. You could also be looking for Monty or Colin or perchance Steve in which case you would subsitute those names for that of Laura.) of the soul who happens to be on the other end of the line? More direct example, when someone answers the phone with their business name, say, "Arnold Drummond's Goldfish Emporium", and you are looking for their top tank salesman, Chuck, do you respond with, "Hello. May I speak with Chuck?", or do you just utter "Chuck" quizzically?

Please select the letter that best corresponds with your personal style:
A. I ask for the person with whom I wish to speak because I am a rational, and may I add, polite, person.
B. I just blurt out the name of the person with whom I wish to speak because your societal rules do not apply to me. I am a busy, busy person and these full sentences you opt to use are simply wasting my time.

I'm Dreaming Of...

Mashed potatoes, raking leaves, sleeping in, reading Lovecraft.

Oh, and being thankful.

Muppet Clothes

I'm looking for a tasteful sweater for the Bug for the chilly winter ahead and all I keep finding are hilarious photos of tiny dogs in strange muppet clothes. As amusing (and occasionally adorable) as that is, these photos are not leading me to warmwear for my dog.

An Open Letter To Work, The Concept

FUCK OFF.

These Are A Few Of My Favorite Things

1. Dolphins are still amazing. And Japan can totally go to hell for killing them. (Yes. I said Japan, an entire nation and its population, can go to hell. I also think all sunsets are great and that all whiteys can't dance. And that's the triumverate of wildly insane overgeneralizations for the day.)

2.

3.

My Favorite Emerald Nut Has Passed On

Farewell, Maxie Dean. May your buildings go condo.

Try to remember the kind of September
When life was slow and oh so mellow
Try to remember the kind of September
When grass was green and grain so yellow
Try to remember the kind of September
When you were a young and a callow fellow
Try to remember and if you remember
Then follow ( follow ) follow ( follow ) follow . . .

Try to remember when life was so tender
That no one wept except the willow
Try to remember when life was so tender
That dreams were kept beside your pillow
Try to remember when life was so tender
That love was an ember about to billow
Try to remember and if you remember
Then follow ( follow ) follow ( follow ) follow . . .


Deep in December it's nice to remember
Although you know the snow will follow
Deep in December it's nice to remember
Without a hurt, the heart is hollow
Deep in December it's nice to remember
The fire of September that made you mellow
Deep in December our hearts should remember
Then follow ( follow ) follow ( follow ) follow . . .

"The Darjeeling Limited"

The best part of this movie ends up ditched on a platform.

But, I suppose if I were as wealthy as the characters of Wes Anderson's latest homage to WASPs, I could bid on it.

Fabishubun

Dumb Donald? Is that you?

Hussein Chalayan's recent holographic fashion show featured some surprisingly wearable looks, this notwithstanding.

(Mushmouth was always myb faboribit. And yes, I occasionally still talk like him around the Sandbox girls.)

There Are Dozens Of Us! DOZENS!

It's sometimes difficult to be out here in a world of procreators. I am so far not one to take to the idea of bearing a child. The concept that there is a living thing inside of me makes me quite queasy. I have already accidentally dropped my dog and she's been around for a month so imagine a baby in my arms. Gravity has never been my friend, but I have a feeling that with the sleep deprivation and the added financial woes, I'd be branded worse than a British nanny when I take that inevitable spill down our precipitous stairs. And then there's the financial and emotional impact that I'm definitely not prepared to take on.

Now this isn't to say that I don't love babies and the people who have them. They're great. You can dress them in cute clothes. I'm sure the love you thought you were capable of is underwhelming when compared to the love you feel for your child. They are absolutely charming when they're about 3. But I have never felt that urge. Oh sure, when I see the adorable Baby GAP ads I feel a little twinge, but then I remember the pregnancy and the (yikes) delivery and all the rest and I'm snapped back to reality. And I'm not alone. Helen Mirren agrees. Now, although I don't have the mother issues (hi Gwenny!), I do share Ms. Mirren's sentiments and as harsh as it may seem to some, that's the honest truth.

image from The Wit of the Staircase

Covet Commandment

Stop using the word "covet" in all its forms and start using the phrase "pig-in-a-poke". If I read another blog entry that states "I am coveting (BLANK) right now" I will run someone over with a Segway. The mere thought of that verb causes such revulsion that simply proofing this post is probably going to make me homicidal.

Now although the word and idiom don't seem interchangable, oh contraire! "Although it may be a pig-in-a-poke, I still want that sequinned beret." See? It CAN work! (And that sequinned hat is a pig-in-a-poke, unless you're Rita from "Arrested Development".)

Seriously? Seriously.

Two great tastes that taste great together - the Dramatic Prairie Dog and "CSI: Miami". An old meme, surely, but it still cracks my shit up.

Does Not Compute

The Ross Sisters' tribute to, of all things, Solid Potato Salad
For some reason, the blending of potato salad and contortionism doesn't work in my brain. And just wait until you get to the back bend down the wagon...and then the reverse. Solid or not, that potato salad's comin' back up with that move.

First, We Blame All The Women

Hey Warner Brothers! You can suck it!