Friday, September 28, 2007
Wednesday, September 26, 2007
I asked Little Boy Blue if he still had any baby teeth left. He couldn't remember - either one or none at all. Since earning a dollar for simply putting a tooth under a pillow is a decent side job, I asked if the tooth fairy pays out for other disposable body parts: strands of hair, belly button lint, ear wax, fingernail clippings, and the like. Convinced there was no fairy - other than the Black Market Kidney Fairy - we continued brainstorming. We tossed out the idea of putting corn kernels under the pillow: too yellow. We don't need lectures on how to brush better. Small pebbles wouldn't work either. Of course, we did discuss the option to knock out all permanent teeth. That would bring a profit of $28 ($6.50 if you're this guy). Drawback, though, is that you'd have no teeth.
Then the plan came:
Me: LBB, do any of your classmates still have baby teeth?
Me: Why don't you offer to do all the dirty work. You get the tooth, clean it, and put it under your pillow. All this for a small cut of the profits. I'm thinking 60/40.
I've either just taught him the basics of business strategy or warped him for life. Oh how I love being the older sister!
Monday, September 24, 2007
* I didn't have a car during college so my bicycle became my primary mode of transportation.
* While I lived in Utah, I liked to bike a mountain trail near my apartment.
* I still like to bike here in Georgia although the mountains are, ...well, hills.
Taking all that into consideration, I thought I'd try - and breeze through - a spin class at the gym. I've biked for years. How hard could a stationary bike set to music really be?
The first indication I was in for a ride (get it? a ride) was when the instructor asked who had never been to a spin class before. I was the only one who raised my hand. He smiled and said, "You're screwed."
Then the room transformed from an area full of stationary bikes into some disco dance club. The instructor, who was wearing spandex shorts, a psychedelic shirt, and a torturing device otherwise known as a watch, clipped his shoes onto the pedal, turned the lights low and the music up. If I were the type to go clubbing, I suspect it wouldn't be much different. Legs and arms started moving to the beat, lights flashed, the room heated up, and everyone was either sweating or breathing heavy.
Psycho Biker, the name I affectionately gave the instructor, told us to start on an easy gear comparable to level ground. Throughout each song, he would look at his torture device and every 20 seconds or so we would go up one or two gears. The different verses were upward slopes and the chorus was downhill. I'm not sure what imaginary hill we biked but it sure was steep. My grandpa used to tell me he walked uphill both ways to get to school. Well Gramps, I'm positive I just biked uphill both ways. ...except I wasn't barefoot and it certainly wasn't snowing.
We finally were allowed to coast for a minute. Psycho Biker told us that the next song, although the last, was going to be our hardest. We would climb one hill, plateau, then continue on a second incline until the end of the song. The beat started and suddenly the monotone voice of Britney Spears filled the room. For once I was glad to hear her new song. I realize that's strange, but biking uphill in gear #21 is no time to "Oops, and do it again!"
Thinking back, I should have realized what I was getting into. The names of some sports really are what the name suggests: Basketball - Ball and Basket; Football European style - Ball, Foot, and Europeans; Racketball - Ball and, ...you guessed it, Racket. This class was no different and the name fit perfectly. Spinning, my friends, is exactly what your head will do after class is over!
Friday, September 21, 2007
Me: I want to focus on toning my arms and of course, I wouldn’t mind losing 5 pounds. I also want to learn how to incorporate free weights into my work routine.
Trainer: Okay. Let’s get your weight info and measurements.
* Sucking in while you stand on a scale doesn’t help you weigh less. Ahem...
Trainer: Tell me about your diet. What liquids do you drink?
Me: Water! I don’t drink alcohol or soda - I love water.
Trainer: That’s really good. What about meals?
Me: I try to eat five small meals a day. I snack on fruits and vegetables. I’m not a vegetarian but I don’t eat meat very often – maybe 2 or 3 times a week.
Trainer: Okay. What about fish?
Me: Only when I go out for sushi. I don’t cook fish.
Trainer: Well...you eat rather healthy, drink lots of water and have worked out consistently for over four years…I don't get it, what’s your weakness?
Me: Chocolate! I love chocolate chips straight from the bag. Man...I binge on chocolate.
Trainer: Define binge. Is this like a candy bar every night or a handful of chocolate chips here and there?
Me: Um, more like “A” bag of chocolate chips.
Trainer: The Whole Bag?! In one sitting?!
Trainer: Okay. You need to stop that!
Chocoholic: Trust me…I’ve been trying for years.
Thus the weight maintenance program begins. All I have to say about the reunion is one thing: there had better be chocolate!
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
O: Thank you for calling phone monopoly. May I have your phone number please.
O: Thank you. And your social security number.
O: And your mother's maiden name?
O: Thank you. How may I help you today?
JG: Well, actually I need to cancel my contract.
O: I can help you with that. One moment please.
I'm sure there was significant conversation here from Operator's Supervisor trying to convince Julia-Gulia to stay but she was having none of it. Finally, after a rather long chat, Julia-Gulia was freed from the cell phone chain. Almost.
O: Anything else I can help you with today?
JG: No. That's it. Thankyou.
O: (script mode) Thank you for calling today. It's been a pleasure and as always, thanks for choosing Phone... Monopoly... er... well, thanks for choosing it two years ago anyway. Um...
I guess there isn't a script for saying Good-bye
Monday, September 17, 2007
I lived here about a year before I finally ventured inside. I ordered. I ate. I wondered why all the hype. It was just like any other pancake establishment. When I voiced this opinion, I quickly realized just how wrong I was. Waffle House is tradition. Waffle House is the South. Waffle House just is.
If a foreigner came to the states and really wanted a taste of American culture, I'd take them to McDonald's. The meal would be average and certainly wouldn't provide any type of culinary delicacy but McDonald's is as American as Ford. Waffle House is the McDonald's of the South. Eating there won't be the best meal you've ever eaten - trust me - but you walk away with a little piece of southern culture that weighs about 5 pounds and cushions your seat for years to come.
Until you get a chance to enjoy your grits covered, smothered, chunked, and diced, here are some facts to wet your appetite.
- If you lay all of the Bryan bacon end-to-end that Waffle House serves in a year, it will stretch from Atlanta to Los Angeles seven times! (That's more than 21,000 miles of bacon)
- Waffle House serves more than 3.2 million pounds of grits each year. That is enough to fill 86 semi-trucks!
- Waffle House customers consume two percent of the total eggs produced in the United States for food service use. That is more than 185,000,000 eggs every year, 500,000 eggs everyday, 20,833 eggs every hour, 347 eggs every minute and five eggs every second.
- If you could stack all of the sausage patties served in one day, it would reach the TOP of the Empire State Building! (Did you want grits with that?)
- Waffle House serves more than 381 tons of country ham every year. That translates to more weight than a fully-loaded Boeing 747 at takeoff.
- If you lined up all the bowls of Bert's Chili® Waffle House serves in a year, it would stretch the length of Florida's coastline on both the Atlantic and the Gulf coasts!
- Since 1955, the Waffle House System has served:
- 495,264,367 Waffles
- 1,173,838,328 Hash brown Orders
- 370,545,935 Sausage Patties
- 786,449,152 Bacon Strips
- 1,527,602,960 Eggs.
Friday, September 14, 2007
I must have heard wrong.
Wednesday, September 12, 2007
After spending the majority of my first afternoon in Nashville shopping, I backtracked to a few photo spots. I was waiting at a corner for the light to change when a bum approached me and asked how I was. Wanting to be polite, I responded I was well and asked, what turned out to be, a twenty minute question.
“How are you doing?”
I’m sure am hungry.
Don’t take the bait. “I know! I haven’t eaten for hours and until I meet my sister later, I’m just going to have to deal with my stomach growling.”
I am thirsty too.
Don’t fall for this. “Me too! I’ve run out of water and can’t find a drinking fountain anywhere! It’s just so hot out.”
Um, I know. And when it’s hot, people get mean. I just got cussed out by some guy right in front of his young daughter.
He isn’t asking for money…this is different. “Sorry to hear that.”
Yea, all I did was ask for something to eat and he started yelling at me, like I’m a bum or something. When I ask people for money it’s because I’m hungry and I want some soup. I don’t do drugs anymore and drinking only makes you want more alcohol…
Hmm…you are wearing a hat indicating the time is 4:20. Back to the 'I don't do drugs'…what were you saying?
…I don’t even live here. I’m from Oregon.
Oregon?! “What brings you across the country? You a musician?”
No. I’m just a fool in love. I followed a woman out here and she broke my heart. Now I’m trying to get back home.
He actually sounds credible. Love makes people do stupid things. So I’m told anyway. “Home to Oregon?”
Uh huh. Except I’m stuck here. I got on the bus the other day but couldn’t afford a ticket. I got kicked off and thrown in jail. Then when I got released, I was told to quit begging for money. But I’ve got no money to get home so I’m stuck here.
We have walked two blocks now. Can I blog this without a picture? No one will believe this. I need his picture. Make up something. Think! “Sounds like a catch 22.”
I know! And then all I want is a meal and some water and I get cussed out. It’s just because I’ve got this backpack on and haven’t been able to shower every day.
Hence me not standing too close. “Sir, I have a favor to ask you. I’ve been inspired by your story and want a way to remember you. Would you mind taking a picture with me?”
Alright! I’m getting a picture! “Have you ever had someone want to take their picture with you?”
No. You are definitely a first.
“Well thank you for being willing. …now if we can just find someone... ‘Ma’am? Will you please take our picture?’”
You’re welcome. What’s your name?
“Charlotte.” …and here’s my blog address. “What’s your name?”
What? You don’t believe me?
No. “I’m just smiling because that’s a nickname I went by when I was little. See how much we have in common. Both hungry, thirsty, and similar names.”
Un huh. You sure you don’t have a couple bucks?
Nope. “Here, you can have the rest of my water though.” …well, now I have to find some more water!
"Same to you."
Monday, September 10, 2007
Julia-Gulia and I visited Nashville during the three day Labor Day weekend. Her intent was to visit a friend from college while mine was to tour the city and hopefully spot Elvis. I managed to do both.
Saturday, after lunch and some shopping, I decided to meander around downtown. It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway: Nashville is a fun place! This is me talking - the girl that hated country music so much while growing up that even listening seemed to cause cancer of the ear. But since I wanted a weekend away and my sister was already going, I thought I'd take a chance on the city.
Nashville is a place with something for everyone. Say you aren't really interested in cowboy hats or guitars - teen movies with predictable plot lines, lame acting, and big celebrity names are more your style. May I suggest you venture downstairs to this venue.
Or, if you are like me and no one knows about your mad break-dancing skillz, don't worry about dragging out the cardboard mat. These guys bring their own. Too bad I was wearing a cute little skirt or I would have shown this guy how to improve his flip stand. ...that's, um, the technical term for that move.
Of course, there also was this red-headed boy walking around downtown promoting Wendy's Burgers. I don't know if he's your thing but it is an option. He was very pleasant to talk to at least.
And The King - you will see the king. I thought he was only in Vegas. Actually I thought he was dead but no, he's in Nashville. In fact, I not only had him read my fortune but I shared a delicious ice cream shake with him.
AHHH! There's two of him...oh wait, that's just Julia-Gulia and her sidekick.
...to be continued...
Friday, September 7, 2007
A fond memory I have is watching Star Trek with him. I know, I know, we were dorks. What makes me even sillier is that anytime my dad called from work and I happened to answer, I would give the phone to Mama Mia and say, "It's Captain Picard - for you." Oh yes, I am that dork.
...I did have similar eyebrows before I discovered tweezers. Is that what they were referring to?
Hmm...maybe we are related. P2! Are those your fingers making bunny ears? Seriously, some people! I would never do that. *ahem.
P2, the past 28 years of my life have been great with you as my dad. Here's to at least 28 more birthdays to come! Love ya!
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
For the most part, this hasn't been a huge issue. I take care of my room and the bathroom, I do my own laundry, and I try to clean up after I use the kitchen. I use the rinse-and-let-the-dishwasher-take-care-of-the-rest approach. If I make a sandwich, there will be a knife with a little peanut butter residue and a plate with a few crumbs in the dishwasher. At the end of the day, the dishwasher is turned on and I unload it in the morning. It's pretty routine. I've been doing it since I moved home.
Mama Mia has differing views. Not only was my childhood filled with phrases such as, "Shut the fridge, you are letting all the cold out!"and "I trust you...it's your friends that bother me," but she always ended the evening meal by saying, "Okay [fill in the blank with one of us lucky children], it's your turn for dishes. Remember, "hot, soapy water." In fact, much like a seashell, when I put a cocoa mug up to my ear, I can hear faint instructions on how to properly wash dinnerware. Each night we would fill the sink up with - you guessed it - "hot, soapy water" to thoroughly clean the dishes in addition to running them through the dishwasher.
That's washing dishes twice!
So this weekend I was gone. I didn't unload the clean dishes or load any semi-rinsed utensils. Tuesday morning I opened the dishwasher. It was full but the sure tell sign of cleanliness indicated by little water puddles on the tops of glasses was missing. I pulled a sample of 10 different knives, forks, and spoons. All looked clean. I ran my finger across a plate. No dried food there either. I looked at the glasses. While they seemed clean, I was confused by the lack of puddles. Not wanting to fall short of my duty, I unloaded. At about 4:45, Mama Mia called me at the office.
Did you unload?
Yeah, why? They were clean weren't they?
No. I didn't run the dishwasher because there was room for breakfast bowls. (the ever practical Mama I love.)
But they all looked clean.
That's because I washed the dishes.
Mom...this is why it's a good thing I don't completely clean the dishes. It's an indication for me if I need to unload or not.
No. I don't like it when you do the dishes. You leave too much food and our dishwasher isn't that powerful.
So you are saying I shouldn't do dishes anymore. Okay. If that's how you feel...
Now I just have to figure out if there is something I can do when I clean the bathroom that bugs her...