1. So, I'm waiting at the airport for my flight last week and a guy a few seats down from me stands up to get in line to board. He's dressed like a euro-trash 80's rocker, skinny jeans, dirty clothes... I casually glance over to look at him, just people watching. I'm greeted with the sight of his entire bare ass, except for the man-thong he was wearing. The image instantly burned through my eyes and damaged parts of my brain beyond repair. They were green and black and red, and very man thongy. And even worse, he turned around and adjusted his bag, and the thong was visible in the front too. Yeeeeaaauuuuckkkk.
2. We watched Dirty Dancing last night - the play - and it was awesome. The music is so iconic, and heck, I'm still a chick... I love it. Anyhow I go out with the bossman after to visit this local blues bar. What else am I going to do? Sit in my room? Anyway, the bar, it's called, "The Blues Bar" and it's a tiny, dirty, crowded dive bar. We get a table at the front and the band comes on the stage smaller than my bathroom and they start jamming. It's four guys, all forty-something and they're pretty great. Guitarist, drummer, bass (the string kind not the guitar kind) and singer/harmonica... the singer looks like the love child of Ritchie Valens and Buddy Holly and sounds like Buster Poindexter. I was enjoying it. After a while everyone around us is dancing, 4 people even on the bench against the wall. Bossman goes to buy me a beer (thanks bossman!) and then the young crowd decends upon me. I have no choice but to dance up on the bench with the other 4. Fuck it, I'm in. Let's go. I'm dancing and jamming and totally enjoying it. Bossman comes back and is surprised to see me gone from my seat but even more surprised to see me dancing on the bench. Whatever. I'm having fun.
3. I return to my hotel room and slip departure instructions under all the doors of all my people. This way I can sleep in in the morning. It's almost 2:30 and I finish just as room service is bringing me food - I hadn't eaten and was starving. He looks at me as I finish my work, and sighs at me and gives me this slightly awed look. He says, "You are a very busy woman."
Indeed.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Five Dollars
So, I'm working.
Lots of long days but this trip is going well. London is superb. I get back to the hotel last night with happy co-worker Shelly and John is sitting with two of our ladies and they tell me "something terrible has happened" and I think the worst, but what happened is one of our ladies got off a city bus and mistakenly left her purse behind - with everything. Digital camera, wallet, cash, credit cards, passport... everything.
She went to the police station, they shoved the standard flyer at her.. call the central transport office, tomorrow at 8:30am, if they have it they'll charge you a fee to get your item back. Nice, eh? Really nothing you can do. So many left items in such a big city. She's as upset as can be. I just hope we'll find it, as getting a new passport sucks ass.
Next day I call the transport office at 8:30, they tell me that it would go to the bus garage first, not central transport and to call Westbourne Park Garage at 10am. I call at 10am and tell her who I am, what I do and that one of my ladies left her purse on the bus, and the nice woman on the phone says, "Is it Mrs. XXXX?" I say YES! it is Mrs. XXXX! Oh my gosh! They have it! How wonderful.
Turns out someone on the bus found it, gave it to the driver who turned it into the office to nice lady I'm talking to. Nice lady realized it was an American and she had just been to New Jersey to visit family and everyone was soo super nice to her (I know, nice to her in Jersey?!? Really?) and she had made up her mind that she had to repay the niceness. She had to get this purse back to the owner. Nice lady had already called the US Embassy to try to track Mrs. X down before I had even called her.
Shelly and I made for the station, picked up her purse, thanked super nice lady a lot and went back to the hotel. I call Mrs. X and ask her to come downstairs. I run to my room and back again and she and her friend are sitting on the couch in the lobby, I hold up the purse and ask her if it looks familiar. She puts her hands over her mouth and her and her friend both start crying.
I explain the whole story and she asks what's there?
"Everything" I say. She cries harder and questions me, "Everything?" (stop crying, you'll make me cry!)
Everything is in there, your passport, your wallet, your camera, your credit cards, even your tape measure (they made us list the contents on a form). Everything.
She's so thankful to Shelly and I and the nice person on the bus who turned it in, and the driver who turned it in, and expecially nice lady at the Westbourne Park Garage who was determined to find her.
Mrs. X (the sweetest lady ever) says it was good deeds paying her back.
She tells this story... a few weeks ago she had gone to the store and she was in the checkout line and there was $5 on the ground and she asked the man in front of her if it was his, and he said he hadn't had $5 in years. She asked the cashier if it was hers, and the cashier said no and that she could not put it in her drawer, but told Mrs. X she could turn it into the service counter if she wanted. So, Mrs. X takes the $5 to the service counter and gives them her name and number and the service counter employee said that if nobody called for it in a week that Mrs. X could have it. Mrs. X said no, she could not keep the $5 because it was not hers.
A week goes by and service counter employee calls Mrs. X to tell her the $5 is hers - nobody had called looking for their missing $5.
What does Mrs. X do?
She goes to the store, picks up the $5 and then mails it to her favorite charity.
And this, she says, is why her purse came back to her.
Lots of long days but this trip is going well. London is superb. I get back to the hotel last night with happy co-worker Shelly and John is sitting with two of our ladies and they tell me "something terrible has happened" and I think the worst, but what happened is one of our ladies got off a city bus and mistakenly left her purse behind - with everything. Digital camera, wallet, cash, credit cards, passport... everything.
She went to the police station, they shoved the standard flyer at her.. call the central transport office, tomorrow at 8:30am, if they have it they'll charge you a fee to get your item back. Nice, eh? Really nothing you can do. So many left items in such a big city. She's as upset as can be. I just hope we'll find it, as getting a new passport sucks ass.
Next day I call the transport office at 8:30, they tell me that it would go to the bus garage first, not central transport and to call Westbourne Park Garage at 10am. I call at 10am and tell her who I am, what I do and that one of my ladies left her purse on the bus, and the nice woman on the phone says, "Is it Mrs. XXXX?" I say YES! it is Mrs. XXXX! Oh my gosh! They have it! How wonderful.
Turns out someone on the bus found it, gave it to the driver who turned it into the office to nice lady I'm talking to. Nice lady realized it was an American and she had just been to New Jersey to visit family and everyone was soo super nice to her (I know, nice to her in Jersey?!? Really?) and she had made up her mind that she had to repay the niceness. She had to get this purse back to the owner. Nice lady had already called the US Embassy to try to track Mrs. X down before I had even called her.
Shelly and I made for the station, picked up her purse, thanked super nice lady a lot and went back to the hotel. I call Mrs. X and ask her to come downstairs. I run to my room and back again and she and her friend are sitting on the couch in the lobby, I hold up the purse and ask her if it looks familiar. She puts her hands over her mouth and her and her friend both start crying.
I explain the whole story and she asks what's there?
"Everything" I say. She cries harder and questions me, "Everything?" (stop crying, you'll make me cry!)
Everything is in there, your passport, your wallet, your camera, your credit cards, even your tape measure (they made us list the contents on a form). Everything.
She's so thankful to Shelly and I and the nice person on the bus who turned it in, and the driver who turned it in, and expecially nice lady at the Westbourne Park Garage who was determined to find her.
Mrs. X (the sweetest lady ever) says it was good deeds paying her back.
She tells this story... a few weeks ago she had gone to the store and she was in the checkout line and there was $5 on the ground and she asked the man in front of her if it was his, and he said he hadn't had $5 in years. She asked the cashier if it was hers, and the cashier said no and that she could not put it in her drawer, but told Mrs. X she could turn it into the service counter if she wanted. So, Mrs. X takes the $5 to the service counter and gives them her name and number and the service counter employee said that if nobody called for it in a week that Mrs. X could have it. Mrs. X said no, she could not keep the $5 because it was not hers.
A week goes by and service counter employee calls Mrs. X to tell her the $5 is hers - nobody had called looking for their missing $5.
What does Mrs. X do?
She goes to the store, picks up the $5 and then mails it to her favorite charity.
And this, she says, is why her purse came back to her.
Sunday, May 11, 2008
Didn't see this coming
I've been working my ass off.
I've not been taking my vitamins.
I've been busy for 12 hours a day or more for the last week (or more).
I'd go to work, then volleyball (or insert other activity here)
Or I'd work on stuff all day then hang with people.
Go. Go. Go. Go.
I'm superwoman.
Then I work a lot, sleep less, play more, fly to new york,
beat my body up some more, walk a ton, play harder, slept even less.
Came home and straight from a night of 3 hours sleep did I rest?
No, it was a gorgeous day. I cleaned the Jeep. Then, I cleaned the Jetta.
Then I rested.... and it came.
I'm sick.
My throat hurts, my body hurts.
And I'm an idiot for not seeing this coming. I hope it goes fast.
I've got lots of shit to do.
I've not been taking my vitamins.
I've been busy for 12 hours a day or more for the last week (or more).
I'd go to work, then volleyball (or insert other activity here)
Or I'd work on stuff all day then hang with people.
Go. Go. Go. Go.
I'm superwoman.
Then I work a lot, sleep less, play more, fly to new york,
beat my body up some more, walk a ton, play harder, slept even less.
Came home and straight from a night of 3 hours sleep did I rest?
No, it was a gorgeous day. I cleaned the Jeep. Then, I cleaned the Jetta.
Then I rested.... and it came.
I'm sick.
My throat hurts, my body hurts.
And I'm an idiot for not seeing this coming. I hope it goes fast.
I've got lots of shit to do.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Another story from New York
So, Joe calls me today and he tells me a story.
"So, I went out to get breakfast today and I'm sittin in this restaurant eating my bagel and I'm sitting next to this family, a guy - his wife or something and a kid and I'm not paying much attention... then I hear them saying they're going to the 2pm matinee and thought maybe they were going to the 2pm matinee at Juilliard or Lincoln center - so I look to ask him and I recognize who it is."
Fucking Christopher Lloyd. AAAHH!!!
So they talk about the show, and the weather and make small-talk, chit-chat.
Small talk with Christopher Lloyd! Joe's lucky I went home today cause I'd have done something completely non-new york and tacky. I'd have gotten myself arrested for clinging to his leg or something, asking him to say Great Scott!! or tell me about his flux capacitor.
Damn! I missed Christopher Lloyd by 6 hours. SIX!
"So, I went out to get breakfast today and I'm sittin in this restaurant eating my bagel and I'm sitting next to this family, a guy - his wife or something and a kid and I'm not paying much attention... then I hear them saying they're going to the 2pm matinee and thought maybe they were going to the 2pm matinee at Juilliard or Lincoln center - so I look to ask him and I recognize who it is."
Fucking Christopher Lloyd. AAAHH!!!
So they talk about the show, and the weather and make small-talk, chit-chat.
Small talk with Christopher Lloyd! Joe's lucky I went home today cause I'd have done something completely non-new york and tacky. I'd have gotten myself arrested for clinging to his leg or something, asking him to say Great Scott!! or tell me about his flux capacitor.
Damn! I missed Christopher Lloyd by 6 hours. SIX!
Friday, May 9, 2008
And the winner of the best surprise EVAR award goes to....
So, May 8 is (was) my brother's birthday.
He lives in NY, I live in Michigan. I get this idea. I decide I'm going to fly into NY to see him on his birthday. Only... I'm not going to tell him I'm coming.
I talked to his boss Jennifer, his co-worker Ben, his roommate Will and his friend Nicole all on Facebook - I find out everything I need to know and invite all his pals. After he gets out of work he's going to this honky-tonk dive bar called Yogi's at 75th & Broadway.
So, Nicole and her roommate Jen and I show up there about 10:30pm. It is a shithole honky-tonk bar. Peanut shells, beer and broken glass on the floor. Crazy-dirt-bar people as well. The three of us get hit on no less than 7 times. I got told I was tall three times. THREE. There's a guy line dancing by himself. They play the same songs over and over. All My exes Live in Texas, Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, more country. I get a text from Ben that they'll be leaving Juilliard around 11:30. We wait. I get a text from Ben at 11:45 that they're leaving. Joe's roommate Will and another one of his friends join our table at the end of the bar.
I give slutty bartender #1 (the one with the hat) $10 and tell her that I've flown into town today for my brothers birthday and he does not know I am here. I tell her what he looks like and tell her to give him a long island ice tea when he walks in the door (obnoxious drink) and tell him it's from the table at the end of the bar where we are waiting and then we'd wave at him and he'd flip out.
Joe and Ben arrive and slutty bartender #1 is busy at the opposite end of the bar and doesn't notice him come in. Ben has been instructed to keep him at the end of the bar for a few minutes. We wait, we send Jen (because Joe doesn't know her) to get slutty bartender #1 to give him the drink. Slutty bartender #1 then gets up on the bar to start dancing with the clientele to "These Boots are Made for Walking." It's like freakin coyote ugly in here. Slutty bartender #2 (the one with the boobs) is the only one left making drinks.
Jen comes back unsuccessful and then Joe starts coming down where we are - he's looking to see if anyone else is here. I kind of crouch down between Will & Nicole and Joe sees Nicole first - she's got lots of white-blond hair and is easy to spot and he is surprised, and excited to see her - he's like wow! I didn't think I told her we were going to Yogis.. Then you can see him identify the crowd a bit at a time with the level of surprise and confusion, because then he sees Will and he's like wow! Why is he here? He was busy... the little wheels are churning. Then he sees me and jumps a bit - and says Oh My God... OH MY GOD! and had this amazing look of surprise I've never seen before. It was SUPERB. And I jumped up and squealed and hugged him. It was all AAAHAHAHHAHA!!! for a bit with the screaming and hugging all his pals.
Then he's all full of questions, when did you get here? How did this all happen? And I explained how we orchestrated it all and he was blown away. I tell him slutty bartender #1 owes him a fucking drink now. I meet more of his Juilliard friends and thank people for helping out. We stay and drink and retell the story over and over again and drink some more. I think it went off pretty damn well. Huge thanks to all who helped. Love you guys.... I think Joe had a pretty good birthday....
He lives in NY, I live in Michigan. I get this idea. I decide I'm going to fly into NY to see him on his birthday. Only... I'm not going to tell him I'm coming.
I talked to his boss Jennifer, his co-worker Ben, his roommate Will and his friend Nicole all on Facebook - I find out everything I need to know and invite all his pals. After he gets out of work he's going to this honky-tonk dive bar called Yogi's at 75th & Broadway.
So, Nicole and her roommate Jen and I show up there about 10:30pm. It is a shithole honky-tonk bar. Peanut shells, beer and broken glass on the floor. Crazy-dirt-bar people as well. The three of us get hit on no less than 7 times. I got told I was tall three times. THREE. There's a guy line dancing by himself. They play the same songs over and over. All My exes Live in Texas, Dolly Parton, Johnny Cash, more country. I get a text from Ben that they'll be leaving Juilliard around 11:30. We wait. I get a text from Ben at 11:45 that they're leaving. Joe's roommate Will and another one of his friends join our table at the end of the bar.
I give slutty bartender #1 (the one with the hat) $10 and tell her that I've flown into town today for my brothers birthday and he does not know I am here. I tell her what he looks like and tell her to give him a long island ice tea when he walks in the door (obnoxious drink) and tell him it's from the table at the end of the bar where we are waiting and then we'd wave at him and he'd flip out.
Joe and Ben arrive and slutty bartender #1 is busy at the opposite end of the bar and doesn't notice him come in. Ben has been instructed to keep him at the end of the bar for a few minutes. We wait, we send Jen (because Joe doesn't know her) to get slutty bartender #1 to give him the drink. Slutty bartender #1 then gets up on the bar to start dancing with the clientele to "These Boots are Made for Walking." It's like freakin coyote ugly in here. Slutty bartender #2 (the one with the boobs) is the only one left making drinks.
Jen comes back unsuccessful and then Joe starts coming down where we are - he's looking to see if anyone else is here. I kind of crouch down between Will & Nicole and Joe sees Nicole first - she's got lots of white-blond hair and is easy to spot and he is surprised, and excited to see her - he's like wow! I didn't think I told her we were going to Yogis.. Then you can see him identify the crowd a bit at a time with the level of surprise and confusion, because then he sees Will and he's like wow! Why is he here? He was busy... the little wheels are churning. Then he sees me and jumps a bit - and says Oh My God... OH MY GOD! and had this amazing look of surprise I've never seen before. It was SUPERB. And I jumped up and squealed and hugged him. It was all AAAHAHAHHAHA!!! for a bit with the screaming and hugging all his pals.
Then he's all full of questions, when did you get here? How did this all happen? And I explained how we orchestrated it all and he was blown away. I tell him slutty bartender #1 owes him a fucking drink now. I meet more of his Juilliard friends and thank people for helping out. We stay and drink and retell the story over and over again and drink some more. I think it went off pretty damn well. Huge thanks to all who helped. Love you guys.... I think Joe had a pretty good birthday....
Monday, May 5, 2008
Greek Masochism
So, I'm hanging with Aayp today and having fun, and on the way back from breakfast we pick up
a "Real Detroit" magazine.
I'm driving and she's flipping through it showing me the crazy funny stuff, like a headline that was literally "10 years of Ass n' Titties" and much more great stuff.
She flips to the back, or "the booty page" cause there's all these photos of crazy booty, boobs, ads for transvestite escorts (boobs and a penis! wow!) and other yikes kind of things.
Then she says, "Greek Masochism*, what is that?"
And I reply, "it's just like the regular kind, only with feta cheese."
Bursts of laughter. Oh boy we are funny. We crack ourselves up. Woo!
Bonus: Went for a bike ride and made it 8 miles in about 45 minutes. I rock. Also, got abundant amounts of sunshine and not only is my face red and painful, but dammit I burned my arms too. I look stupid.
*perhaps may not have been masochism, but some other dirty word starting an M but you get the idea..... right?
a "Real Detroit" magazine.
I'm driving and she's flipping through it showing me the crazy funny stuff, like a headline that was literally "10 years of Ass n' Titties" and much more great stuff.
She flips to the back, or "the booty page" cause there's all these photos of crazy booty, boobs, ads for transvestite escorts (boobs and a penis! wow!) and other yikes kind of things.
Then she says, "Greek Masochism*, what is that?"
And I reply, "it's just like the regular kind, only with feta cheese."
Bursts of laughter. Oh boy we are funny. We crack ourselves up. Woo!
Bonus: Went for a bike ride and made it 8 miles in about 45 minutes. I rock. Also, got abundant amounts of sunshine and not only is my face red and painful, but dammit I burned my arms too. I look stupid.
*perhaps may not have been masochism, but some other dirty word starting an M but you get the idea..... right?
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Ghetto Washer
So, it's official. We have a ghetto washer.
I'm doing laundry last night and wasting time on the internet and I hear squealing and smell burning rubber.
Hm.
That might be bad.
I go investigate and the washer has gone from "shaky wash" cycle to "spin cycle" only I suspect the belts are so worn out it won't spin, it just squeals and stinks. So... what do I do? Start spinning it manually and then close the lid and let the machine take over.
Ta da!
We now have a manual start washing machine. I had to do it twice for every load, first rinse and second. Every time it starts squealing I make a run for it and spin the drum.
Great.
It did come with the house and in 7 years we've done nothing with it... so I guess that's pretty good. Will have to call our handy repairman to fix it up. Don't really want to deal with that right now. Ugh.
I'm doing laundry last night and wasting time on the internet and I hear squealing and smell burning rubber.
Hm.
That might be bad.
I go investigate and the washer has gone from "shaky wash" cycle to "spin cycle" only I suspect the belts are so worn out it won't spin, it just squeals and stinks. So... what do I do? Start spinning it manually and then close the lid and let the machine take over.
Ta da!
We now have a manual start washing machine. I had to do it twice for every load, first rinse and second. Every time it starts squealing I make a run for it and spin the drum.
Great.
It did come with the house and in 7 years we've done nothing with it... so I guess that's pretty good. Will have to call our handy repairman to fix it up. Don't really want to deal with that right now. Ugh.
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