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It’s the SR Sensations!
I will be performing for charity tonight at the VFW in South Saint Paul at 6 PM.
It will be very exciting. And just a little nerve racking since we’re singing Stop! In the Name of Love.
I’m the lead. Diana Ross has a much higher voice than I do so I hope I don’t mess it up too much.
A taste of what’s to come (pictures and possibly video):
Wish us luck!
I’m the one with the reddish hair and the black glasses, in case you were wondering.
It is getting to be close to the end of the month and I am very stressed out. Work has been crazy busy and I am extremely tense. My work load seems to have doubled and it is insane. But I have a nice weekend planned. Beth and I are going to scrapbook like crazy. I am looking forward to it.
Last night we went to karaoke and it was really slow. At one point Beth turned to me and said “And this is why we still go to karaoke.” Bryan was singing “Halleluiah” from Shrek and it was beautiful.
This morning, Co-Worker Rykken asked how karaoke went and I was telling him and Christy about the song.
DM: I cannot understand why he is not famous and Nickelback is.
They were amused by that. I’ve mentioned that I hate Nickelback with the fierceness of a thousand burning suns, right?
Anyway, off to take a nap before Beth calls. Hope you all have had a good week.
Can you believe it is the 21st? The month is more than half over and I’ve made it every day so far. Amazing.
Okay, so I spent the weekend over at my sister’s. She picked me up on Friday and we went & purchased me a very nice interview outfit. It was the first outfit she picked out but I had to try on the other 3 she chose, two which were 3 piece suits. I demonstrate the suit for her & her question is “What do you think?” My words “Football player. In drag.” My shoulders were HUGE! Scary. The 3rd outfit was a dress that looked okay but was one of those layered dresses that looks like a two piece but is actually attached together. I had to ask Kari to help me get out of the dress. Obviously Keem is not going to assist me in getting undressed (this is something only a sister will do) so we said no.
The last outfit was an ankle-length skirt, loose and flowy (which I love) and a print blouse that was low cut enough that I didn’t feel like I was choking to death and was actually flattering. I did not think “Oh my God, you huge cow” when I looked in the mirror. This is an important requirement for clothing.
We then journeyed to her house where I got to meet Keith, a friend of Eric’s that has been staying with them because he needed to go to the VA for tests a month ago. Eric has been putting off driving Keith back to Iowa and so Keith has been staying in the breezeway (my future home if I ever end up having to live with my sister again) and fixing things around the house.
Keith and I started watching “Blood Diamond” a movie I would never think to watch on my own because it has a) Leonardo DiCaprio in it and b) is bloody and awful and people die and I hate that. I didn’t finish the movie, choosing instead to play Mah Jong Quest on the computer but Eric told me how it ended, doing the accents for Leonardo and the other main guy while he did (he’s not bad, actually, I never would have thought my brother-in-law could do a South African accent but this is apparently one of his talents). Beth, you would like this movie for the reason you did not like the Count of…sorry, the Man in the Iron Mask.
It was a weird weekend, all I’m going to say about it is that I did end up consoling Kari while she cried over a bad fight and I’m worried about the relationship. I also ended up missing karaoke so I could be with Kari during a difficult time. I am hoping that everything rights itself – I love that family together and when they are at their best, they are what I hope for in a marriage. When they’re not, though, I am glad I am still single. Enough about that.
Oh, I got my hair cut as well. As I was standing in my bathroom this morning, brushing my hair, I had the following conversation with Keem.
DM: Oh my God, I am freakin’ adorable.
Yes, I am quite modest.
Beth and I went to karaoke on Thursday. It was an interesting night, as evidenced in my last post. Apparently the lack of Effexor was having an adverse effect on my last nerve, which had been frayed years before. I am not known for my patience but I can usually keep from wanting to kill everyone I encounter. Usually. But this is not one of those nights. It is probably a good idea that I don’t like guns and feel the need to carry one around.
First of all, Beth finds a table for us while I get our beverages (Coke no ice for Beth, water lots of ice for me). I join her. We start catching up. Various people come over to chat with us. This is okay. One of them is Stubes, one is Sexy Craig. Suddenly a hoarde of people descends upon our table. They start sitting at our table. Do we know any of them? Not really.
DM: Have you ever wanted to just pretend you are crazy and start trying to get the crazy bugs off of you in order to get people to leave your table?
B (looks around): Tonight.
DM: Oh, Beth, the crazy bugs are crawling all over me. Get them off. Get them off.
B: That is the worst crazy act I have ever seen.
DM: Yeah. I’m better at faking asthma attacks.
Beth does start talking to an invisible person in the chair next to her. It doesn’t phase any of our univited guests.
And then the singing starts. Or, I should say, the really bad singing starts. I do not have a fork. I start clutching my hands together, digging the fingernails into my skin. After the 3rd or 4th horrible song of the evening, Beth did tell me to stop. I’m not sure if it was the fingernails or the weird faces of anger I’m sure I was making that worried her. I do have to remember to take my Effexor. It’s a nice buffer between me and those other people who dare to inhabit my world. Unlike Beth and Keem and everyone else I like who are welcome (if you’re reading this, you’re welcome).
It takes a special sort of person to sing “Summer Nights.” Unfortunately neither of the people on stage come close to that specialness. Believe me when I say that Beth stared up at the stage and says “I’m going to kill you” that she is completely justified.
Here’s an example. At the end of the song, the guy singing ends his song like this. “Oh. Those. Summer. Niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiggggggggggggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhtttttttttttss.” He has just sung this like William Shatner meets Wing. Please, please shoot him. Or me. I really don’t care.
Have you heard of Wing? She is apparently an Internet singing sensation. On Saturday night, Beth was searching Rhapsody for really bad covers of songs. We found several but none of them prepared us for Wing. She is from Hong Kong & emigrated to New Zealand. She “sings” (and I am using that term loosely) Elvis, ACDC & Abba, songs you love. Until you hear your version. Go here. Listen. There are samples!
Here’s an example. “Lushee in the scky wi dimonds (repeated).” Then there was the random high pitched “Ahhhhh” that was a note I’ve never heard before. The best part was Beth’s reaction. Not so much the hysterical laughter but the suspense. Will she fall out of her chair? Will she knock over the computer? Will she make me start snorting with laughter? No, no, yes.
Some guy has actually started singing “Funky Comedina (or Cold Medina or whatever the heck it is. I don’t care enough to Google it)”. He is also wearing a beret. The only man who should sing this song is Ton Loc. He is not here.
Our table has been invaded by young people in their early 20’s. Somehow they just thought “Hey! Let’s just sit at this random table. That’ll be cool. And then we’ll giggle & squeal & make out with random guys & get very annoying. Yay!”
Let me put it this way. I’m not sure if what is rising in my throat is acid reflux or pure rage. I guess we’ll know for sure when I climb the nearest clock tower with either antacid or an AK-47.
At the end of the evening, this woman came up and asked if she could use my lighter. It was very loud so I didn’t really catch a lot of what she said. I later asked Beth for a translation.
DM (written): I know my hearing is bad but I only understood one out of every 8 words she said.
B (written): She first asked for your lighter. Then she asked why you don’t sing because you have a good voice (You good singer) and asked why you don’t sing on Thursday. Then she said she sucks it up but you’re a good singer.
What’s your name (she couldn’t get my name. No one can, especially when they are drunk)?
She’s the one who sang “Summer Niiiiiiiights.”
I tell you, sometimes I wonder why I go to karaoke. Then I remember. It’s not for the horrible singing or the incredibly drunken people. It’s for the catching up with my friends that happens after karaoke. And the blogging material, of course.
Ask the iPod was right! My future love IS in New York.
Suit: Do you have any headache medication?
Production assistant pulling random stuff out of pockets: Yeah, sure. Do you have a headache?
Suit: No, but I might later… Oooh! Band-Aids!
How can you not love a man like this? I think I may have found my future husband. He’s planning ahead which means that he is probably logical (and let’s face it, if I am ever going to marry, it should be a logical person) BUT he also appreciates the fun that is Band-Aids and would understand my ability to be distracted by all that is bright and/or shiny (or, you know, plastic with some gauze). This indicates that he would probably be fun enough so I wouldn’t end up killing him, which I’m sure you all realize is the foundation of a successful marriage.
Do not panic. I’m okay. Really.
I’ve been forgetting to take my Effexor lately. I don’t know why. I put it in the medicine cabinet. It’s right next to the Seraquel. It’s not invisible. But I don’t remember to take it. I don’t forget the Seraquel, of course, if I don’t take that I can’t sleep for hours and then I have these horrible images that flash through my head (oh, such as faces melting and blood and random torn off limbs and evil witch like creatures that cackle at me (Yes, I’m a ton of fun at parties). You would think I would look and say “Oh. Look. Here is my Effexor. I should probably take it.” But I don’t. You would think that I would realize how important it is because I can tell when I’m starting to mess up my dosage. I’m sad. I’m angry. I’m exhausted all the time. I don’t want to do anything except sleep and read and eat (because no, I can’t be one of those people that doesn’t eat when they’re depressed (although I do a pretty good job of not eating when I’m depressed, I am not so good at saying “Hey, Dana. You have just devoured a full portion of food. STOP eating now!”). I know everything will be okay; I just have to get into the habit of taking my pills again. Oh, and my iron pills. Because maybe one of the reasons I’ve been feeling so dizzy and weak lately is because I’m somewhat anemic and I’m supposed to take the damn pills. And I should take vitamins. I have vitamins. Somewhere. It’s kind of like the ginkgo bilboa I bought to help with my memory. I just forgot to take them.
Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. I know what the problem is and I know how to solve it. I’m not finding myself staring out windows and wanting to jump which is a good thing, considering I’m on the 27th floor.
Okay. Back to the funny portion of my post (aka: where I ramble about signs and commercials and never actually make a point (and quite possibly scare you all)).
Today on the ride in, I was listening to the radio. Part of my lovable charm is my irritation with certain signs or commercials. I’m not sure exactly what it is but there are some things that just set me off. For example, Beth has been witness to my irrational hatred of a business next to her apartment. For some reason, the idea of a graphic arts business named “Let’s Get Graphic!” just irritates the heck out of me. Beth has asked me why. I don’t know what it is. It’s just wrong. That’s all I know (she was telling her Dad about this and his response was “I think she may be the weirdest person you know. Oh, wait, you hung out at that pool hall for awhile”). I know it doesn’t make any sense. I know that the name tells you what they do. But still it makes me so irritated.
DM: Let’s get graphic. I’ll get graphic! I hate your stupid name!
B: Why? Why do you hate them so much?
DM (after struggling to formulate the perfect answer that will reveal all and cause the sky to open and a group of angels sing “Hallelujah” while the world suddenly corrects all of its problems): Because!
Yes. Because. That’s a great reason, isn’t it?
Last Sunday or the Sunday before, John observed me drawing on a piece of paper. When I am bored (or, in this case, not bored but annoyed with both him and Craig because Beth and I have so much fun at karaoke by either scrapbooking (well, drawing layouts, actually) or playing Trivial Pursuit (not easy to do when they are there because they act as if they know everything and can get pretty condescending and not understand that half of the fun of Trivial Pursuit is the incredibly wrong answers. Rat bastards) and can’t think of anything to write (or, in this case, can’t write what I want to write which is something along the lines of “Oh for the love of God, can you please go away? Please? Craig. Under no circumstances is Beth ever going to find you attractive. You repulse her. And you wear too much cologne. And your accent is so very fake and not at all sexy. Desmond from LOST has a sexy Scottish accent. You do not. Also, Desmond doesn’t just have a sexy Scottish accent. He is also tall and pretty to look at. You are not. And John, while you are less annoying than Craig because we can talk about boys with you, you are one of the most cynical people I know. And yes, I can be pretty cynical myself (we discovered that we share the same favorite poster from Despair.com) but damn it, there is only so much I can take of your constant bitching about how the world is out to get you and yet another person called you racist because you wouldn’t sell them beer on Sunday (which, hello, stupid people, against the law!) and whatever your complaint du Jour is)…you know, I’m going to start this sentence over.
When I am bored or can’t think of anything to write, I will find myself doodling. My doodling pretty much consists of drawing a box. I then divide the box into sections and then fill in the sections in an alternating manner. Nothing major. I just like it. It relaxes me and keeps me from stabbing people with forks (not that I’ve ever actually stabbed someone with a fork. I just make vague stabbing motions and then Beth or Keem take the fork away from me). Anyway, John was somewhat fascinated with my need to make sure that there was a proper balance of filled in and blank sections. Apparently this makes me somewhat OCD. Since John doesn’t know me that well, he has no clue that I am quite possibly the most extreme opposite of OCD – I would be, as I mentioned earlier, an example of someone who suffers from bright, shiny object syndrome. In other words, I get distracted easily; I’m somewhat hyper & have the attention span of a gnat.
John: Oh my God. You should marry James and have neurotic babies.
Later, when Beth was driving me home, we had the following conversation (of course, I also don’t remember things well so who knows if this is even close).
DM: I’d think that if James and I had babies, we’d have a chance of having a somewhat normal baby. I’m not neurotic.
B (she may have laughed hysterically at this point): If you and James had babies, you’d end up with a kid who feared all condiments or was obsessed with mustard*, lettuce & would yell at random business signs (there was probably more. I so need to start recording our conversations).
DM: But “Let’s Get Graphic” is so stupid!
*Just because I refuse to live in a mustard free household & think the Mustard Museum in Mount Horeb is quite possibly the coolest place ever & suddenly I’m obsessed? Sheesh (although Beth may not have been the one that said I was obsessed. It might have been me. Who knows? Again, reason why I need to start taping conversations).
There was also the series of commercials perpetrated on society by a local grocery store. Not only did they have these really annoying radio commercials where they did this sort of beatnik jazzy number about all the things you can get at Rainbow (including a freaking headache from their commercials) but they also decided “Hey, let’s take a bunch of different foods and dress them up like little people. That will be fun.” No. No, stupid ad people, this is not fun. It is stupid and wrong. Because not only does it cause me to go into a five minute tirade about the French Bread wearing little berets and then looking very phallic, it also means that you’re going to present us with a carrot wearing a little dress and earrings and a necklace made out of peas. Peas. So not only is Rainbow saying “Hey, it’s really cool to dress up food like people, it’s also okay to cannibalize other vegetables for jewelry.” This would be like me saying “Hey, I really like so-and-so’s face. Maybe I’ll make a necklace out of it.” Which would result in me being arrested, rightfully so. Shouldn’t the carrot lady be arrested?
Okay, anyway, the whole point to this was that I was listening to this commercial on the radio today which consists of some loud, obnoxious guy trying to say the tagline but failing miserably. And the guy who is supposedly the man in the sound booth keeps saying “Oh, just say this in a relaxed tone.” So you hear, over and over and over, “Corona Light. It’s the only light beer that’s also a Corona.”
DM: That is so stupid. Obviously it’s the only light beer that’s a Corona because the name is Corona Light!
Keem: Can you think of a better tagline for Corona Light?
DM: Yes. Beer sucks. Don’t drink it.
Keem: And again I ask, can you think of a better tagline for Corona Light?
DM: Yeah, I’m blogging this.
Next to come? A post in which I write about how I, as a non-driver, do not need to worry about being overcome by road rage. However, I apparently suffer from karaoke rage. Or, you know, I should just take my damn pills already.
Apparently my blog is rated G. There are no bad words on it. Anywhere. Obviously I’m not as hardcore as I thought.
Mingle2 – Online Dating
Last Thursday, Beth, James and I are exchanging cell phone numbers (because, oops, forgot to share. I am a bad friend).
DM: No. Give me a second. Okay.
DM: That is NOT your phone number. Asshole.
James: Dissolves into hysterical laughter.
Am I a bad person because the advertisement for the magazine Positive Thinking in my mail box made me roll my eyes and say “Oh, please”? I have come to the decision that I might be a tad cynical. And it is very hard to explain to Beth and Keem that, while I don’t like people, it doesn’t mean that I don’t like them (Beth’s response to “you’re not people” was “Oh, great. I’m an alien”). I think it is that I don’t like people in groups. Such as the bar. If it was up to me, only select people would be allowed. Scottish Craig is not one of them. I ask you, if you have a sunken chest, why do you try to show it off by wearing tight t-shirts? And who the hell shows up wearing a flak jacket and a tan bandana? Is he Rambo? Is he the Scottish Army (of one)? Is he just an annoying, annoying man who I want to dress up in a deer costume and dump him in the woods on the first day of deer hunting?* Or am I a bitch? It could be both, I guess.
*This is because he has a tattoo that is a deer through a gun sight. I think it would be a fitting punishment. As Beth said “It could be Bambi’s Dad. Or Bambi. Thumper couldn’t save him.” Do not get me started on Disney movies which make me cry. Poor Bambi’s Dad. Poor Tod’s Mom. Stupid Disney. Nobody’s family could actually stay together, could they? No, we have to have everyone die. There’s a reason Sleeping Beauty is my favorite Disney movie. Her parents don’t die, they just go to sleep. And yeah, there’s this really scary dragon but Maleficent is my favorite Disney villian so I’m okay with that.
You will be happy to know that Co-Worker Eric asked his girlfriend Crystal to marry him and she said yes. Co-Worker Eric is actually quite bouncy and chirpy (Which may be my way of saying chipper and perky) today and it is quite pleasant to see. See! I can be positive! I’m not always negative.
I decided to apply for another job today at NABABNA. It is working more directly with different stock companies and helping them and the people they refer to us. I think I would enjoy it, there is admin work involved and I love stuff like that. I don’t know if I’ll get the position but it would certainly solve the problem of Keem and I applying for the same job. Wish me luck.
Anyway, Beth, Keem and I went to the Como Park Conservatory on Friday and then Beth and I went to Minnehaha Falls on Sunday. Here are some of my favorite pictures. And yes, I am a big fan of the saturate button. What’s your point?
These are lillies. I like them.
I don’t know why I like taking pictures of benches when they are empty. I think it is because they look like they are waiting for someone to come spend time with them. I think one of my favorite scenes in Notting Hill is Hugh Grant reading with a pregnant Julia Roberts lying with her head in his lap on the bench. I think the bench was happy to have them there. Is that weird? That’s probably weird.
There were no actual poisonous frogs at the zoo. I was disappointed.
Look. The miniature killer is Japanese.
Flamingo flowers. I like flamingos. They are pink.
This is a completely awesome picture. I love, love, love Zoe and her ability to capture a moment like this (Zoe is my camera’s name. I do believe I already said I was weird, right?), where the water is frozen in time.
Flamingos. They are walking. Birds do that. AND! They are pink.
When taking pictures inside, it is important to switch the camera mode from landscape to portrait. Or the picture of your former cat will look somewhat yellowish. Bet you wish you had a cat that plays Trivial Pursuit, don’t you?
On our way to Minnehaha Falls, we drove by an owl in the road. Coolness.
I love water. I especially love waterfalls. And lakes. And oceans. And, well, rivers. Um, yeah, I love water. Anyway, this is at Minnehaha Falls.
Except that my bags aren’t packed yet and I have no idea where I’m going.
So Keem and I have been planning to go see Jeff (former roommate) for months. Since he moved out last year. We actually made the request for time off in January, barely minutes after they said “Hey, you can request your time off for the year.” My vacation starts officially at 3:30 PM Thursday, May 3rd.
At this point, Keem and I do not know where we are going. We have been waiting to hear from Jeff about when the best time would be to see him in Colorado (we figured we’d drive around the Denver area on the days he was working and spend quality time with him when he wasn’t) but at last notice, something was going on and he was up in the air as to when that best time would be. Today is, as you may have noticed, April 30th. Something tells me we’re not going to Denver, Toto.
Our thoughts are this. We’re driving. Somewhere. We don’t know where. Thoughts include Duluth. Itasca State Park (because I really want to walk across the Mississippi River again (the last time I was 7 or 8 or somewhere around there) that is somewhere up in North Minnesota. Brainerd. Madison. Milwaukee. Ann Arbor (mainly because Keem said there was a planetarium and I like planets. But Liz said we shouldn’t go there and we should go to Chicago with Beth next year).
Pretty much I think we’re going to get into the car and find a major highway and say “left or right” and then go either left or right.
I think Duluth and Madison/Milwaukee are our two main stops. I want to go to Ella’s Deli again. My boyfriend Dave (when I was living in Madison, people, this is not a new development) took me there once and I loved the place. Of course. It was bright and shiny and there is a carousel. Plus the best tuna fish/cream cheese on a bagel sandwich I have ever had in my life.
We come back on May 12th or 13th. Beth is less than pleased with me because I am going to be missing 3 nights of karaoke. I’m also not going to be blogging unless we come across a place that has computers. I won’t even be reading blogs. I’m not sure how I’m going to survive this separation from all of you but hey, I’ll be on the road, with one of my best friends, driving her insane. Examples of things that will drive Keem insane:
- Are we there yet?
- Um, I have to go to the bathroom and you just passed the last rest stop for 40 miles.
- ZZZZZZZZZ (that would be me snoring because I fell asleep).
- Ooh! Let’s go there (this will be followed by Keem saying “What is there? Where is it?” and I will say “I don’t know. It just looked like fun.”)
- Can I drive?
- I’m bored. You never let me do anything fun (in response to the above bullet point).
Expect lots of pictures when I get back.
Oh, for Teri, who seems to have thought I have forgotten about the whole Craig/James love thing.
Craig has a thing for Beth. Beth does not return his affections. This is a good thing because if she did, I think I would have to hit her. James likes to mock Craig because it is fun.
Anyway, a couple of Sundays ago, Craig got up to sing some song. It doesn’t really matter what it was. But James, being the smart ass that we love and adore, had to, well, be a smart ass.
J: What are you going to sing to me, Craig?
C: Nothing! And don’t you be writing me notes like a love struck teenager!
I grab my notebook and start writing the following (picture will follow eventually).
I love you like a love struck teenager.
Then I handed it to James and told him to sign it. After much arguing, he did (James: What? DM: Sign it. James: Okay).
I flung the paper down to where Craig was sitting and John* (who was sitting between Beth and Craig, much to her relief) put it on top of his stuff.
*John, by the way, is this guy that I had a slight, tiny, little crush on, mainly because he is smart and doesn’t creep me out the way that Craig does, even though he is kind of lumpy looking and has an unfortunate hair cut. He also is gay, something I thankfully found out before I embarrassed myself completely by getting drunk some night and comparing him to the Flash.
DM: John’s gay.
DM: He’s more fun to talk to now that we know he’s gay.
B: Yeah. Because we can talk to him about boys.
DM: I know!*
*You’ll all be happy to know that, while Keanu Reeves acting skills were called into question, the opinion is that, as long as he takes off his shirt, none of us care. This is about when Craig said “Oh my God, shut up about men already!” He was probably jealous because he does not look like Keanu Reeves, David Duchovny or whatever other guys we were discussing.
Craig comes back, sits down and sees the note.
C: What’s this?
John: Looks like a love note.
C: Did you put him up to this?
He is looking in my direction.
DM: Hee hee hee hee hee (this would be me dissolving into giggles).
Well, none of us can leave it there, of course. James keeps asking Craig about their “love.” Craig tells him to do something in some sort of slang that may or may not be English but none of us know that because we live in America and so does Craig for the last TWENTY YEARS! And besides, he claims to be Scottish so perhaps he should be using Scottish slang instead of English slang that might have been popular in the Fifties.
I console James because his love has been rejected. Craig is about ready to hit us all. With the stupid baton/beating stick thing he carries around. Apparently to prove he’s a man, I guess.
John grabs the note and writes XXXOOOXXX on it.
John: If I had red lipstick right now, I would kiss this.
DM: Ooh! I have lipstick. It’s not red but it’ll work.
I slather my lipstick on (I was hoping John would do the lipstick but no, he didn’t. Of course I had to. The sacrifices I make for good blogging material) and plant a big kiss on the paper. Then I grab the perfume roll-on I am carrying around for some reason* and wheel the applicator across the paper.
*I don’t typically wear makeup or perfume but I will buy it. I figure I am girly enough to like buying it but not girly enough to go through the hassle of putting the stuff on.
DM: There. Now it’s scented. Scented with James’s love.
This made Liz laugh. That is akin with making Bryan tell me I did a good job singing. While Liz laughs at me alot, this was really the first time it was “Hey, that was damn funny” instead of “Oh my God, you’re such a freak, I am laughing to keep you from stabbing me.” I can tell the difference between her laughs*.
*Okay, sometimes she does this “Heh” sound which is “You have amused me.” This was the first time that it was full laugh. Don’t ask. I’m weird. You should have figured this out already.
Later on, after the laughter about the love letter has passed, John is telling us about the car accident he was in.
John: And then I was in a car accident and the fire department was the first to arrive and…
Liz: You were in a car accident? Was anyone hurt?
DM (at the same time as Liz): There was a fireman? Was he cute?
John (to Liz): No, I’m fine. No one else was hurt.
John (to DM): Yes. Very.
DM: Did you get his phone number?
DM: Why not? I have to live vicariously through someone since the whole Craig/James thing doesn’t seem to be working out.*
And I think to myself this guy can’t sing
“It’s A Wonderful World” is being sung by a guy in a jean jacket with a hair style frightfully close to being a mullet. When he first entered The Chalet, he said “I thought there was karaoke going on” in a fairly high voice. So it is a little disconcerting to hear him attempt to do the low growly voice. Beth and I have exchanged several telepathic looks. Pretty much we are letting each other know “Oh dear God, I’m scared now.”
Playing Trivial Pursuit with Beth
DM: What type of craft was the Super Chicken III, the first of its ilk to cross North America non-stop?
B: A chicken sled?
DM: No but now I’m imagining this sled being led by chickens. Mush!
B: What was it?
DM: Oh. A balloon.
It’s the Ken Show!
Ken is a cowboy (cowboy hat, tight jeans (tight in all the right places), shiny belt buckle). Since Beth and I are in no hurry to sing, Bryan has Ken just standing on stage and singing. Country songs. Kind of hot country songs.
B: He’s good.
DM: And cute.
B: Nice jeans.
DM: Nice belt buckle pointing to the package.
B: That’s not why I was looking at the jeans.
DM: I have no shame.*
*I don’t believe that’s exactly what I said but since she told me several times that I was staring and one step away from drooling, “I have no shame” pretty much sums it up. Also, Beth likes jeans because they emphasize muscular thighs. I like jeans because they emphasize other things (rear ends, mainly). Although Ken had nice thighs. Oh, hell, Ken had nice everything.
B: I have just realized that I live in the wrong state to have a thing for cowboys.*
*I never would have thought she did but she adores Clint Eastwood and her favorite fictional character is Roland from Stephen King’s Gunslinger books and Roland is somewhat based on Clint Eastwood. Now myself? I just have a thing for men. But there is something about a cowboy, isn’t there?
Where do they come up with these drink names?
I finally decide to go up and sing. Ken was using the mike stand and I stand in front of it. The microphone is right above eye level for me. I look at Bryan. He laughs and lowers the stand.
DM: Ooh. I’ve never used the mike stand before. I might cradle the mike.*
*We had a discussion one night about Steve Perry and his urge to cradle the microphone like a lover.
B: Are you going to dance?
DM: Maybe. I might make some hand gestures. Interpretive dancing.
A random man at the bar speaks.
RM: Bobby, can I get a double shot of honey ham?
What? I look at Beth. The beginning notes to “Give Me One Reason” start. Just as I am about to open my mouth and sing, I dissolve into giggles.
DM: Did he just say honey ham?
Beth nods. She appears to be as amused as I am. I turn to Bryan.
DM: Yeah, can we try this again?
While I didn’t do hand gestures, that didn’t stop others from interpretive dance
Beth wrote this.
“A woman is singing “If I Could Turn Back Time.” She doesn’t sound a bit like Cher but has a take on the look and may have practiced the movements.”
This woman has the plain, kind of horsey look, long black hair and is actually performing some sort of dance moves. There was hair flipping as well.
I think this may have been about the Cher wannabe but I don’t remember. It’ll work here.
B: Maybe she’s dyslexic and is reading the notes wrong.
DM: But the notes aren’t on the screen.
B: I know but maybe they’re in her head. Maybe she’s dyslexic and has a photographic memory.
I think there’s a secret reason this show is called Pride
Pride (spelled with a lightning bolt in place of the I) is playing on the big screen. Pride appears to be boxing with a bit of ultimate fighting thrown in. It really doesn’t make much sense but then neither Beth or I are fans so maybe that explains why it doesn’t make sense. However, you do find your eyes drawn to the screen, usually in horror or amusement.
B: Come on! Put your crotch on his head. That seems to be the object of this game.
So, so true. In each of the matches before, both boxers/ultimate fighters/whatever the heck they are would end up slamming each other to the ground and flipping around. Heads were in groins. Groins were in heads. Groins were in groins. It was very disturbing, especially when the little Chinese guy was body slammed by the really big white guy.*
*Now I see nothing wrong with guy on guy action. In fact, I enjoy watching attractive men kiss (totally hot. I figure if the average guy loves the idea of woman on woman action, then I am obviously an average woman. Right? Right? How come no one ever agrees with this theory?). But these were not attractive men. These were scary looking men.
Exactly what note were you looking for there? Because you did not find it.
A woman is singing “black Velvet.” I am not sure but I think the best way to describe this is Kermit on mood-altering chemicals after a sex change. Completely monotone until you get to the very end and then she sang the final “If you please” about 3 octaves above her normal range.
B: I heard that in the bathroom.
DM: I think they may have heard that in the next county.*
*Again, I’m not really sure that I said this but I was thinking it and it is my blog so there!
There will be pictures from this night, well, one picture. I will present this picture when I can make sure that I can formulate the perfect words to tell the story of a love so true, it transcends the ages. It is beautiful. Inspiring. It’s between Craig (Beret Craig) and James (yes. That James). And that’s all I’m leaving you with for now. Because I am evil. Hee.
Last night, being Sunday, Beth and I journeyed to our specific church, the Church of the Angry Frankenstein Monsters (well, that’s what it was last year. I’m not sure what Bryan has decided our new church’s name should be for this year) for some special karaoke hijinks (I love the word hijinks. I love the way it looks with the i-j-i. The three dots makes me happy for some reason).
Angie was there and we hadn’t seen her for awhile so there was a chance to get updates. I had my head turned (can’t hear unless I’m looking directly at people if there is a lot of background noise) and so didn’t catch the whole update but apparently the sex? It is good (she’s dating someone new). She brought her co-worker and friend Jessica with her to celebrate Jessica’s 21st birthday. Great. Another person who could be my kid.
Angie (to me): You look great.
DM: What kind of drugs are you on?
Angie and Jessica: Percoset!
Angie’s having some kidney problems and has been provided with drugs that seem to help. What would be more helpful is if the doctors could figure out what was wrong.
As the evening progressed, Jessica proceeded to become more and more intoxicated. Not sloppy drunk, thank goodness, just kind of silly.
Bryan: Why are you looking at me? Why?
B (Beth): Because we hang on every word you say.
Jessica: And every beat you (pause) box.
Sara (not Sara with an H. Sara “You’re so pretty” Sara (we tell her this and it drives her nuts) was there, wearing her “Tell your boyfriend to stop calling me” tank top.
Jessica: I knew that was Sara. I recognized her boobs.
DM: Yeah, if I had Sara’s boobs, I’d be flaunting them as well.
Angie: So would I.
DM: Oh, shut up (the girl has a nice rack (hey, sometimes I channel my inner straight man)).
Ryan: Yeah, they were out in full force last night.
Bryan: I thought you were talking about a group and then I realized you just meant Sara.
Sara was singing this song by somebody (Fleetwood Mac? I think?) and Jessica looked amazed.
Jessica: I was just singing this song in my head in the bathroom! I’m psychic when I’m drunk.
Please excuse me while I chuckle over this again.
Bryan tried a new drink.
Bryan: Don’t drink Jim Beam Black. You can give the money to a homeless man and have him kick you in the stomach. It’s the same feeling.
Bryan: My mouth is frothy.
Girl after my own heart. She really could be my kid.
Jessica: Don’t you love me? I love me.
Later Bryan was exchanging words with Sara, telling her to come up and sing.
Bryan: Strumpet? I have Shakespearean Tourettes.
Shannon was also there. Shannon is very pretty, a hair stylist (another person who has told me “Please! For the love of GOD! Do not cut your own hair. I don’t even cut my own hair!) who I like a lot but she is, well, a bit bossy. Funny as heck but bossy. She wanted Bryan to sing Purple Rain (because he’s so damn good at it and hi-larious).
Bryan: Dana (calling me up to sing).
DM: I’m going to pass so you can sing Purple Rain.
B: Wow! She didn’t say Candy Man (well, the man does the best imitation of Sammy Davis Jr but he did sing it on my birthday so I am trying not to be greedy).
Bryan: But I’m not going to sing.
DM: You have to. Shannon scares me.
B (gives me the Beth look): Who scares you more?
DM: I’m going to go sing now.
Bryan did give into pressure and sang Purple Rain. He decided he was going to mess it up so we’d never ask for it again. His plan backfired.
Bryan: Purple Rain – Comma – Purple Rain Dot dot dot Purple Rain – Comma – ooh Exclamation Point
There are no words to explain how funny listening to him sing every bit of punctuation in this song was. He is so brilliant and managed to fit it in there and be in tune. Amazing.
After he was done:
DM: 100 hyphen 12.
Bryan: Thank you for putting in the hyphen.
DM: You’re welcome.
So you’re all aware of the Chicken Conspiracy that Beth started, right? Well, Thursday she picked me up for karaoke. I get in the car. I say hello to her but I’m putting my seatbelt on so don’t look at her yet. Suddenly I hear this weird little voice.
I turn and look at her. She is wearing a chicken mask.
DM: Oh my GOD!
There may have been jumping. Anyway, said chicken mask is going to being hung up in my cubicle and I have just received permission to take pictures of my cubicle so you can see exactly how I have chosen to fill the walls here. Believe me when I say I use every possible ounce of space to fill with non-work related things – such as frogs and magnets and my piggy bank Pig and comic strips and lots and lots of political stuff. Take that, Republicans!
Do you know how embarrassed I am that there will be a GOP convention here and that the city is planning on making fancy new roofs and then stealing the pigeon eggs? Because apparently pigeons offend the Rupublicans. Stupid Republicans. Pigeons are kind of cute. Because they are birds. And birds are our friends.
DM: I kind of want to blow up the place where they’re having their convention (but I don’t know where it is so that might be a problem (And I have no access to blowing up things so that’s also a problem (that and I really can’t kill people. That is wrong))). Is that wrong?
Mike: Well, I’m not going to be in the building so I’m okay with it.
Oh, anyway, I’m slightly off tangent (big shock there) and I was going to talk about all of the chicken songs that we sang. It was awesome.
I sang “Passionate Kisses” and substituted “Chickens” for “Kisses.”
Angie and Bryan sang “I Had the Time of My Life” and used “Chicken” several times.
Beth put chicken in a few songs.
Sara: Enough with the chickens!
Welcome to my world, Sara. Now I just go with it. Although Keem does bug me with the sneaking up on me and yelling “Chicken.” Grr.
Easter Sunday is next week so that means there will be the substitution of “Jesus” for “Baby” because at the Chalet, our job is to educate people about new religious choices. Stay tuned for a list of the songs we sing. Oh, and pictures from Sunday night as well (yeah, yeah, it’s Thursday. What’s your point? I’m only a little late).
My plan was to write about Thursday night and how Beth and I started talking about Trivial Pursuit and that segued into Religious Trivial Pursuit and then Biblical reality shows. Oh, heck, I’ll write it anyway.
B: What was Jesus’s favorite sitcom as a child?
DM: I have no clue.
B: Three Wisemen and a Baby.
Q: What was Mary’s favorite song?
A: Like a Virgin.
Q: What was Mary Magdalene’s favorite song?
A: Dang it, I don’t remember. It wasn’t Bitch. I want to say Touch-A, Touch-A, Touch-Me from Rocky Horror Picture Show but I know that wasn’t it.
There were sports questions as well but I can’t remember them. I don’t know why I don’t carry a tape recorder around when Beth and I are together. Granted, it would be filled with my snorting all the time and reaching for my inhaler.
DM: That’s not my inhaler.
B: No, that’s hair spray.
The reality TV shows were very interesting. You should so hear Beth’s announcer voice. She is so awesome with it. The plagues of Egypt was hilarious.
B: First there were the frogs. Then there were something (I forgot what the something was)…and then Bob’s got to tell poor Timmy he’s going to die. Gosh, Timmy, wouldn’t it be great if we were Jewish?
I’m sure it wasn’t quite like that, it was probably much, much funnier because she is brilliant. There were more but I don’t really remember all of them. Help me out here, Beth.
In other news, I had a doctor’s appointment on Friday. I have been having some right heel pain and thought it might be Achilles tendinosis. It had been bothering me over the past months whenever I took the trash out or took a cart downstairs (I usually am barefoot whenever possible and it isn’t a problem in my apartment because we have the cushiest carpet ever but walking on flatter carpet or concrete hurts). Staying over at Beth’s this last weekend, I was pretty much barefoot the entire time, except when we went out. Sunday night, I tried to walk from her dining room table to the couch and ended up doing this hopping, flopping wounded bird walk because I couldn’t put my foot down. It was not pleasant.
I also have a problem with my left knee. I wrenched it when Beth and I were in Vegas and it bothers me off and on. The last few months it has been getting worse and will occasionally give me a lot of trouble when I’m trying to stand up. The combination of the two makes me a little cranky and look like an idiot when I’m trying to walk.
I’d been joking about this on Thursday night and made the comment that obviously turning 40 meant that my body was going to fall apart. Then, after trying to understand a conversation between Beth, Sarah and James, I said that maybe I should get my hearing checked.
DM: I said ‘Maybe I should get my hearing checked.’
DM: Rolls her eyes.
James: No, seriously, I didn’t hear you.
DM: Maybe I should get my hearing checked.
James: Oh! Ha. That’s funny.
Anyway, Friday my brother-in-law Eric picked me up and drove me to the doctor. After waiting awhile (Deb is usually always late for appointments because she is fantastic and a lot of people want to see her) but not caring because I have a book, she comes in and I give her the list of complaints.
I get sent off for an X-ray of my foot. I then hear Deb giggling in the hallway. She comes back in.
Deb: You’ve got big old heel spurs.
She shows me the X-ray. Oh, yeah, there they are. Great. I get a referral to Podiatry. I am also told I need to go to the hospital for a standing X-ray of my knee because I might have arthritis. And I’ve also got a referral to have my hearing checked.
DM: Do you think they’ll give me a walker?
Deb (laughing): No. You don’t want a walker.
DM: Or maybe I could go tooling around in one of those Lark cart thingies. That’d be cool.
Amazingly enough I actually looked forward to turning 40. This is the first birthday that I haven’t greeted with depression (thank you, Lord, for creating Effexor and Seraquel). And this is what I’m rewarded with? I’m just waiting for my nose to fall off next.
Ah, humor. If it wasn’t for it, I’d be curled into a fetal position and screaming “Damn you, 40! Damn you!” Anyway, I’ll see you later. I’m going out to price Hoverounds.
Thank you all for your birthday wishes! I had a great 40th (Johnny, you’re only off by one day. Not a big deal. It was Sunday, March 11th). Not at all what I expected. No specter of death hovering over me or the fire department threatening to drown my cake.
Thursday Beth picked me up and we went to karaoke. She picked me up a little bit earlier than usual so we drove around, trying to kill some time. We had the thought “Hey, Dairy Queen would be good” but Dairy Queen was closed. Sigh. Both of the ones we drove by. Granted, it was close to 11 PM but still…
As we’re driving along, Beth asks me where we are. Apparently, since we were in Saint Paul, I’m supposed to know my way around the city. Yeah. Like I pay attention.
B: Where are we?
DM: We’re coming up to Saint Anthony (street, road, something with pavement). Next one will be Saint…uh…Basil.
DM: Yes. Patron saint of, um…
B: And the Spice Girls? When people pray to him do they say “I’ll tell you what I want, what I really want?”
To the best of my knowledge, there is not a Saint Basil. I made him up because it was the only “B” name I could think of at the time.
Friday and Saturday we went over to Beth’s Mom’s house for really good food and rousing games of Trivial Pursuit. I was very disappointed that the one time I was asked a Geography question and did not respond with New Zealand, that the answer was New Zealand. Figures. My football questions are usually answered with Joe Namath, Geography is New Zealand, Presidential questions are Martin Van Buren and the list continues. We had so much fun.
Also on Friday we went to a going away party for a woman Beth works with that I know from my days in the Phone Center at NABABNA. That was enjoyable except for the drunk people that kept singing “Ole ole ole, ole (watch The Replacements and you’ll have the exact way they were singing)” over and over and over again. By the end of the night, Beth ended up taking my fork away since she didn’t want me to get arrested. It would make celebrating my birthday a little awkward if I was locked up in jail.
Sunday was my birthday and it was filled with excitement. Not only was there the thrill of losing an hour of sleep but there was the added bonus of having to get up early. Joy! We went to see The Gilbert and Sullivan Very Light Opera Company (tradition for Beth, Keem and myself since 2002) with my mom and then to Manny’s Steakhouse afterwards.
Here’s where it gets interesting.
Before the show starts…
DM: I think I’m going to go have a cigarette outside.
Mom: You sit right down.
She even does the pointing to the bench and the scary Mom look.
DM: Mom. I’m 40. I can do what I want.
After intermission, she didn’t come back and we were worried that we had lost her. Turns out that she’s been sick over the week and wasn’t feeling good. She was lying down somewhere.
Then it was time to go to Manny’s. We ended up getting to the restaurant about 45 minutes ahead of time (hey, you have to plan to get lost. That’s tradition as well, plus James had to work and 6:30 was about the earliest reservation that would work out for him). We are sitting in the car, listening to Anna Nalick (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=x8vHZfzu9Fk).
Mom: I don’t like this music.
B: Okay. Well, in honor of Dana, we’ll play her favorite song.
I start giggling. My favorite song is by Medium (Bryan’s old band) and is called Ten Feet of Rope. A portion of it pretty much walks you through how to commit suicide by hanging (“Now friends, what you want to do is take about 10 feet of rope”) and it makes me laugh every time I hear it. There is no absolute way my Mom is going to enjoy this. But, oddly enough, she doesn’t say anything.
A few more songs go by.
DM: This is Bryan, Mom. Our karaoke host and Liz’s boyfriend.
Mom: Oh? He sounds like a real singer.
I know this is a compliment but it still confuses me. Well, he’s human so of course he’s a real singer but I think I know what she means. Mom didn’t know that Bryan did have his own band for awhile.
Manny’s turned out to be a great time. My steak was perfect, as usual, served with garlic butter and I stole some of Kari’s pepper sauce, made with cognac, cream and pepper. It was very good.
After Manny’s, Beth and I headed off to karaoke. We got lost. Of course. It never fails. We finally ended up at karaoke around 10:30 and I was happy to see Char and Tom and also Sarah. Char and Tom got me scrapbooking stuff (some of it was pink and orange!)! And a pink notebook! That was great. Liz and James met us later and we had a great time remembering the day and some of the Momisms (Bryan is appreciative that he sounds like a real singer. He made sure to let us know that he stands on real feet. But his legs are fake) that came up (such as the operetta was not only in English, it was in American).
And the best part of this weekend? Other than the gifts and the friends and the great food and the singing and laughing and Trivial Pursuit? I finished my Vegas albums. Beth and I went to Vegas March 14th of 2004. I finished the album on March 12th, 2007. 3 freaking years! Yikes. Next is Portugal but I’m planning on being organized for this. Maybe I’ll even post some pages once I complete them.
Hope you all had a great weekend. My very cool older sister Nancy sent me a fluffy frog wearing an orange sweater. Isn’t that awesome? I spent my 40th birthday doing several of my favorite things – going to the opera, going to Manny’s, scrapbooking, karaoke and spending time with my friends and family. If you have to turn 40, this is the way to do it.