This should not occur naturally . . .

I just opened a box of test results on our students and the papers smell like fish. Ummmm anyone know how that can happen or why even. Paper = fishy smell is not an equation I can get behind.

Warning

Kpnion may be spotty at best for the next few days. I am going on Va-Ca and will try and post intermittently but no promises will be made. I do promise to have exciting and fun posts when I come back about my many exploits.

Did you know . . .

Stole this from Steve who stole it from someone else so I'm exempt from giving original credit for it.

1. What is the geekiest part of your music collection? Ummm Milli Vanilli tape

2. What do you eat when you raid the fridge late at night? Anything salty and sweet

3. What is your secret guaranteed weeping movie? I’m super sensitive to hero movies: Saving Private Ryan, Braveheart, Gladiator all move me to tears. I’ll choke up on a guy/war movie more than a chick flick – they seem more real to me for some reason. I will say The Passion of Christ was just one long crying movie, weeping actually, I didn’t get over that for a few days

4. If you could have plastic surgery, what would you have done? Ugh the pain of recovery turns me off from this, also how do you know that 5 years from now you might look exactly the same as you did before?

5. Do you have a completely irrational fear? dolls, the ceramic type. I watched too many horror movies where dolls came to life and killed the children that I could not sleep soundly with them in my room staring at me as a child.

6. What is the little physical habit that gives away your insecure moments? mumbling

7. Are you a pyromaniac? Nope, I’m a tearer upper maniac, I love to tear things up into little pieces, very destructive of me

8. Do you have too many interests? Nah, actually not enoughed practiced interests

9. Do you know anyone famous? I’m related to H. Ross Perot and to Jacqueline Bouvier
Kennedy Onassis

10. Describe your bed? Big, white, with a fluffy feather bed and duvet with lots of pillows, COMFY

11. Spontaneous or planned? Both have merits, I am an equally opportunity considerer of both options

12. Who should play you in a movie about your life? Me of course, my mom says I look like Jennifer Garner with blonde hair (I don’t see it) but she could if I was unavailable

13. Do you know how to play poker? Texas Hold ‘Em is a great game and I’ve got skillz

14. What do you carry with you at all times? My watch and Burt's Bee's chapstick

15. What do you miss most about being a kid? The freedom from duties

16. Are you happy with your given name? Yep, and I’m glad my mom choose to give me my nickname of Katie instead of Kitty, could you just imagine

17. How much money would it take to get you to give up the Internet for one year? Enough to buy all the books I want to read but don’t

18. What color is your bedroom? White with red and dark brown accents, I’m a girl so I gave a girly answer

19. What was the last song you were listening to? Whatever was on the radio this morning

20. Have you ever been in a play? Yep, though my acting skills are nothing to write home about

21. Have you ever been in love? Not yet

22. Do you talk a lot? Ummmm, Of course

23. Do you like yourself and believe in yourself? Some of the time, but I also know myself enough to know my downfalls and limits

24. Do transient, homeless, or starving people sometimes annoy you? Weird question, I’ve never thought of them annoying me, I’ve been uncomfortable around them at times but more often than not I feel sad for them and the state they are in and I wonder how they got there and what is stopping them from changing

25. Do you consider yourself to be a nice person? Nice is such a debatable term, but yes for the most part I think I am nice

26. Do you spend more time with your girlfriend/boyfriend or your friends? Since I have no boyfriend I would say friends

27. What is your ideal marriage location? The new chapel of my church – it is beautiful but needs shutters on the windows

28. Which musical instrument do you wish you could play? Drums, drummers are soooo cool and I would want to be cool, the bass would be the second option because they are cool also

29. Favorite fabric? Super high thread count cotton or terry cloth

30. Something you love and hate? Being right

31. What kind of bedding do you use? Another weird question, sheets and a duvet comfoter (but the fan must be on high year round to create the cocoon of warmth)

33. What's the one language you want to learn? Latin – I’m such a nerd

34. How do you eat an apple? Bite into it

35. What do you order at a bar? DrPepper on the rock

36. Have you ever pierced your body parts? Ears only once in each

37. Do you have tattoos? Nope, too much pain

38. Do you drive stick? I want to learn but haven’t had the chance, or haven’t taken the time

39. What's one trait you hate in a person? Arrogance without the ability to back it up

40. What kind of watch(es) do you wear? A present from my parents when I turned 21(for a life free of alcohol and drugs for the 21 years leading up to it) and my sports watch with a velcro band for sporty activities

41. Most frivolous purchase? Most of what I own could be considered frivolous unfortunately

42. Do you consider yourself materialistic? Not too much but yes I do like things more than I probably should, the good thing is I can’t afford most of what I like so I’m more wishfully materialistic

43. What do you cook the best? Cookies (my trademark) and apache bread (thank you AMA for the recipe that is now my signature appetizer)

44. Favorite writing tool? Computer, I type so much faster than I write

45. Do you prefer to stand out or blend in? A little bit of both

46. Would you ever go out dressed like the opposite sex? Uhhh not sure how to answer this question, I did play a male shepherd in a christmas play once and had a fake beard and mustache does that count?

47. What's one car you will never buy? A hummer, I just don’t get the point

48. What kind of books do you like to read? All, any, everything

49. If you won the lottery, what would you do? Go back to school and get a master’s and then a doctorate, and then travel, and donate a lot of it, and build my mom her dream house

50. Burial or cremation? Burial or whatever is most appropriate for my family, I’ll be in heaven so I won’t be worried about it

51. How many online journals do you read regularly? Too many and yet too few

52. What's one thing you're a sore loser at? mostly things that I feel most qualified at or better able to do than others

53. If you don't like a person, how do you show it? The freeze out

54. Do you cry in front of your friends? You betcha

55. What kind of first impression do you think you give to people? Ugh either crazy and weird or business-like and formal

56. What's one thing you like to do alone? Watch movies

57. Are you a giver or a taker? Both equally

58. When's the last time you cried? Ummm the other day I think

59. Favorite communication method? Talking

60. How many drinks before you're tipsy? No drinking but one good smack of my head into the side of a bus and I’m loopy and fall over easily

61. Do you think you're cute? I don’t think I’m small and young enough to be cute, I don’t think I got hit with the ugly stick though

62. Do you have problems changing clothes in front of friends? Nope, after years of working at camp I can change in front of almost all my friends (girls that is)

People are WEIRD

I have determined after much research and theorizing that people, in general, are unpredictable, un-understandable, and generally weird. I have significant evidence to support this truth but I will focus on one area that seems to defy the general laws of common sense.

The housing development name. Yes, something this simple exemplifies the sheer randomness of the human psyche. Apartment complexes, housing developments, hotels, neighborhoods, and the new thing is for it to have a cool name that no one else has. Below are just a few apartment complexes in my town:

Fountains of (Fill in your city’s name here)
Interestingly enough, you will never find fountains at these complexes. Maybe a fountain in every living room, perhaps, but nope, nothing.

The Timber Links
So is there a log cabin/golfing theme going on here?

The Waterford at Spencer Oaks
Is this something to do with expensive European crystal? And who is Spencer and why are his oaks special?

Salem Ridge
Is this a place that targets witches or maybe those who persecute witches, more of the puritan set?

Primrose at Sequoia Park
My favorite for the complete lack of point. This was obviously arrived at by throwing darts at a word wall and then having a game of rearrange the words until it sounds good.


Another interesting endeavor is the new self-contained neighborhoods. Come live here, the say, we have design your own houses, a water park, our own school, and a big brick wall to protect you from the outer world. It’s your own little cult like world wrapped up in a cool name.

One particular place right outside of my town is classic. Savannah. Not Georgia, mind you, but Savannah housing development of north central Texas. This is marketing genius.

Here is the obvious thought process of the developer:

People like the south, they want to live in a good ol’ southern neighborhood but they live in Texas. What is a person to do? We’ll build Savannah in Texas. Genius. We’ll build homes that look like they belong in Georgia and they will all be color coordinated because well the south is color coordinated. Can we use seersucker anywhere? Great. Hold on this isn’t quite it; it still looks like Texas outside the windows. Hold on, I’ve got it we’ll add palm trees. Now I realize palm trees aren’t indigenous to northern Texas but we can make it work. Don’t worry the people won’t notice the two-by-fours propping up the dead trees. What can be do to take their minds off the two-by-fours? A water park. Some neighborhoods have a community pool, we’ll outdo them with a water park, slides, wave pool, lazy river, and all. Ok what else? Wait, houses = families, families = kids, kids = schools. We need a school. Don’t send the kids to the normal city schools, then we will loose the close knit, freakishly cult like neighborhood. We’ll build our own school so our families never have to venture beyond the brick walls. Welcome to Savannah, north-central Texas, where you can pretend to live in Georgia while living in Texas.

What is a normal anyway?

I came home last night to my abode. The front door was clad in darkness because I neglected to turn on the porch light at 5:00 when I left the house with the sun beating down on my front porch. I also choose not to turn on the light because it is a homing beacon for every june-bug in the northern hemisphere. It is like a insect family reunion on my porch as long lost bug cousins gather for a bar-b-que, trip down memory lane, and their favorite pastime – trying to skirt into my door as I slip through the small slit I allow myself to prevent the Clampett family of bugs to move in with me.

Luckily the moon was full so I could navigate my way across the backyard (my front yard though) and make it safely to the door. Also, my ability to change into a hairy beast with a dastardly growl during the full moon assures me that I will be safe from any neighborhood dogs that may be on the prowl. As I expertly slid the key into the lock with my night vision precision I step forward into the doorway.

Then it hits me. LITERALLY. I am intertwined in a web of sorts and sticky threads are attaching themselves to my face and hair. Now a normal person would just reach up and swat away the web and maybe step back to inspect. But me, oh no I FREAK out for some reason. Wildly swatting in the air to make sure some behemoth of a spider is not creating a nice summer home in my ear, I step back to escape the grasp of the web of entrapment. I trip and fall down and I am laying on my porch with books, purse, and stuff scattered everywhere. Little slivers of flesh from my arms and legs are now gracing the cements of my stoop and the wood planks of the porch and I am uttering words that RARELY pass my lips.

Is this, I ask you, a normal reaction to a spider web? Is this a normal reaction to anything? No it is the Kpinion reaction to a surprising circumstance with an uneven porch, an askew porch mat, and my keen sense of utter inability to stand up in any given situation.

Where does the time go?

The sock lost in the dryer. The one earring that never has a back. The magazine that had the perfect whatever you have always been looking for. And then there's TIME.

I have no TIME. None, notta, nutta, nothin, zip, zippo, zilch, etc. How is it that in the summer when schools are empty am NUTSO, CRAZY, MIND NUMBING busy? I come to work each day and then I notice that three hours have elapsed without me moving onto number 2 of my to do list. I sit down for a meeting at 9:30 and emerge at 12:30 realizing that the meeting was only supposed to take and hour and we still have a handful of things yet to be decided.

Then I sit in front of my computer and realize that I haven't blogged today, or yesterday, or the day before that.

Ben, I heard your cry and I am giving OFFICIAL notice.

The writer of KPINION regretfully informs her readership that she may be spotty at best with posting and she may have to resort to being a phantom visitor to your blogs. This is not a personal attack on the blogs that she has come to know and love but a conscientious decision to be productive at work and retain her sanity. Hopefully the time disappearing act will soon resolve itself and routine posting will continue. But for now she is making no promises.

If the readers of this blog would like to contribute to her financially for a laptop and internet connection she will freely and graciously accept and blog daily, if not bi-daily, but alas with now connection to the outer world and no computer to house her ideas she must accept her forced vow of pseudo-silence for the near future.

Keep diligently checking in because she will try to post every other day and visit the blogworld as much as possible but have realistic expectations.

There you go Ben, I notified, I explained, and I gave hope.

One fuzzy moment or should I say foamy

Let me preface this post by stating that I LOVE sleeping. Some of you may have picked that up from prior posts but nothing is as perfect to me as a good night’s sleep or a deep nap after a busy day. I have perfected the art of sleeping. I know the perfect temperature for ultimate slumber, the right consistency of the pillow, as well as the perfect temperature of the pillow that is directly touching my skin.

Due to this obsession with sleeping I have taught my body to stay in the state of sleep for long periods of time even with interruptions or distractions. Planes, trains, automobiles? No problem I can sleep through them. Storms, gale force winds, tornadoes? Sleeping like a baby. One side-effect of this talent is that I can have entire conversations with someone while I am in the sleep/conscious state and not remember it the next day. I can also awake from a deep, way past REM, sleep and be in a dream-like state that hinders my ability to have lucid thoughts.

I was a victim of this state this exact morning. I awoke on my own accord at 6 am and rejoiced that I had yet another hour of blissful sleep before my alarm (which sounds to me like the most annoying noise in the world from Dumb and Dumber) jostled me from my slumber. I quickly rolled back over and returned to my dreams. One hour later, and many idyllic minutes of unconsciousness later, I was shaken awake by the cacophonous jangle of the alarm. I rose and headed to the shower.

Now when I first awake there are two alternatives that my mind may partake of. The instant switching on of my brain, as if it were a light switch. Or the sputtering, rumbling, slow waking up on individual synapses much like a beat up car with no gas, trying to start but only turning over but never catching. There are only those extremes, no middle ground here.

Today was a old Buick day. I arose and stumbled to the shower where I opened the door and stared. Blinking my mind could not comprehend the sight that was coming into focus. Somehow, sometime during the night a monster from under my bed had crawled into my shower and burped up a massive amount of baby pink foam. It trailed down the side of the shower and pooled in the corner. My mind half expected it to reach up and envelop me in its cotton candy foaminess (much like the “stuff” from the 1985 B-movie classic “The Stuff”)

(We now interrupt this blog with some mindless background information. Don’t even ask when or how I saw this movie but it is burned into my head. Mostly because there is an old woman in a restaurant who asks “Where’s the stuff?” much like the old woman in the Wendy’s commercials with “Where’s the beef?” Here is the plot summary: Weird yummy goo erupts from the earth and is discovered by a couple of miners. They taste it and decide to market it because it tastes so good. The American public literally eats up the new dessert known as The Stuff but, unfortunately, it takes over the brains of those who eat it, turning them into zombie-like creatures. It is up to ex-FBI agent David Rutherford and a kid named Jason to stop the spread of the mind-devouring dessert.)

We now return you to your original programming.

So I’m trying to comprehend how this pink fluff/goo ended up in my shower and better yet what I should do about it. Is there a toxic spill here in my shower in the country? Has my shampoo and conditioner somehow interacted with the well water to form a new chemical property?

And yes I know you’re asking yourself how, if my brain is not entirely functioning at this point, my mind can race through these thoughts so quickly. One side-effect of the brain not fully functioning in the morning is that the parts of my brain that are dormant seem to wake up and have a party, so I have thoughts but not lucid or rational ones (this would be my demented brain taking over for the logical brain that I possess in normal situations.

So my brain was fighting for the coherent part to take control and I noticed that the pink foam was emanating from an old canister of shaving gel. Somehow the metal can had burst forth and erupted shaving gel in its foam state into my shower. Seeing that the foam was harmless and would not burn off my skin or infect me with an alien being I sprayed it down the drain with my nifty bendable shower head.

Now that I am in my right mind I ponder exactly how a can could break and spew shaving cream. Did it rust? Was the barometric pressure so great in my house that it imploded? Or was this the work of a more sinister force?

Oh well that was my morning.

Would you rather . . . .

Loose all sense of taste or smell? Why?

Gain 100 lbs or get hit by a truck and be paralyzed from the neck down? Why?

Live in a democracy where you disagree with the ruling majority or in a dictatorship where you agree with the forced government? Why?

Live in a mansion and drive a junky car or live in a shack and drive the best car in the world? Why?

Spend one day with your soul mate never to see them again, or spend a lifetime with the runner up and never meet your soul mate? Why?

Accomplish all your dreams or accomplish none of your dreams but be wildly successful? Why?

Let's play this game. Post your answers as a comment and then I will post mine. Feel free to give suggestions of other questions.

The microcosm of humanity and the Stupidity Test

Sometimes I have to ask myself if I am an arrogant person. Do I think I’m better than other people? Do I look down on others for no reason other than to make myself feel better? After this weekend I may have to answer yes to this statement.

On Saturday I realized I had not purchased a present for a wedding I was attending that evening. Buying presents for weddings is a whipping most of the time. You have the registry list with all the stuff the bride and groom want and you have the prices listed there in bold. And as you look for a gift you want to give, you also must weigh the amount you are going to spend, and then since the bride and groom know what is on the list and therefore know how much each item costs, you are forced to choose something that doesn’t say “Hi, I’m cheap”.

So I’m working my way down the list at Target (my favorite store in the WORLD), and of course most of the stuff is purchased already. I guess other people plan ahead for these things, me I like to be wrapping the gift in the parking lot right before the bride books it down the aisle. Of course, not only are most of the gifts purchased but the stuff that is still available for gifting isn’t sold at my Target. So I’m looking for something that seems like it would be a gift from me and is not too expensive but not so cheap that I buy the newlyweds a set of measuring cups and call it a day. I settle on a set or margarita glasses (don’t get me started on the idea of these two youngins who I had in the youth group as YOUTH drinking margaritas, maybe they just like the pretty colors). I felt comfortable with the price point and I thought about adding another kitchen/table item but of course they were all bought or not available and margarita glasses and wash clothes didn’t seem like the proper pairing.

So now I have this long and awkward box that needs to be wrapped. I head to the gift bag and wrapping area for a proper pretty package (alliteration at work here people). Of course there are no bags made to fit long and skinny items although they do have JUMBO gift bags that I could fit in. Who needs a body size gift bag, a body size trash bag maybe but gift bag? Really people if you are buying a gift that big then you need to just slap a bow on it and call it a day.

So I decide to wrap my gift and make a pretty bow out of tulle. Assuring myself that I have plenty of wedding wrap at home I head out of Target pleased with myself for accomplishing my task.

Alas when I get home I realize that I do not have enough gift wrap for the longest present in the world and refusing to return to target (a 15 minute drive at least) I head to my nearby Albertson’s (the microcosm of humanity).

BIG MISTAKE, I repeat BIG MISTAKE.

I make my way to the gift wrap/card/flower/automotive/dog food aisle (gotta love the grocery store) fighting the carts and “God’s special people” as my friend likes to call them. I pick out a nice white gift wrap and make my way back to the check out section.

Let me paint a picture for you. Twenty carts, people lane jumping to figure out which lane is moving the fastest because they are in a hurry even though they have purchased enough groceries to feed a small country in Africa. When you cart is overflowing and you are dragging things around with your feet it really doesn’t matter which line you get in because you are going to be there for a while.

I bypass the crazy cart people and head for the self checkout (the stupidity test). Being a former checker I have the necessary skills to work these machines with efficiency, expediency, and finesse. Other people DO NOT. I of course end up surrounded by people that should not be allowed to work ATM machines much less a scanner and keypad.

Case in point: A woman is attempting to scan her items, it doesn’t work. She tries again, it doesn’t work. It finally works and she puts it in the bag, then the machines pipes up with a warning that an unknown item is in the bagging area. So she takes it out and then alarms blare as it announces that something has been removed from the bagging area. So as this woman is fighting with this machine she is of course talking to it, because we all know that check out machines talk back when we yell at it. She is also looking around for sympathy and encouragement that the machine is stupid and she in fact is normal.

Now the people in front of me have decided that it is ok to use the self checkout when they have 50 billion items which they have piled around the bagging area because there isn’t enough room. Then they need the poor worker guy to scan for them because they don’t know what they are doing. Here is a hint, if there are two bagging carols then you shouldn’t try and use the self check out when you need 50 bags.

When my turn finally comes I check out with speed unbeknownst to these people and with such flair and panache that people stop and stare in awe.

FIFTEEN minutes after I enter the store, I leave with my purchase in hand and a sense of relief that I survived and passed the stupidity test.

It's the whole time space continuum . . . .

Jes, I heard your cry and felt your pain but mine was greater. People I have not posted since MONDAY. Do you hear that crazy world, since MONDAY?

Why you may ask, is a member of the Blog Patrol and an original FOE (friend of Eddie) so lax in her postings? Well let me tell you why. I am trying to cram an 8 hour work day into four measly hours. Today I even came in early for a meeting and low and behold what was anticipated to last 45 minutes doubled miraculously into an hour and a half. Now I stare at my computer screen as my brain rattles with the sheer volume of my To Do List. Actually let’s be reasonable here it is not a list, a list fits on a small piece of paper where you can place check marks tracking your progress. I have a To Do manuscript that comes in volumes. As I move from each volume to the other I always have to refer back to my prior completed projects for information and direction.

Now wasn’t I just celebrating the coming of summer, the slowness of the workday as kids are now gone and we can focus (irony intended) on the small stuff. Small indeed until it gangs up with the other small stuff and creates this monster of small things that are really one big thing that will crush me like a bug if I don’t dance around avoiding its wrath.

So all this to say: friends, compatriots, fellow FOEs, blogfamiliy, I am busy and somehow trying to tackle the whole space time continuum thing. I am still here, I will still post, and hopefully things will calm down and I will slay the small stuff giant and be able to bring you the absurd, thought provoking, giggle inducing, random bits of everyday vacations you get when you visit kpinion.

Me and my big mouth

Wow how many stories about me can start with that line? Too many and no readers do not feel obliged to comment with stories about my big mouth. This weekend was CRAZY but in a good crazy way. Friday, no let's start with Tuesday because my week was so messed up that there wasn't a big distinction between weekdays and weekends for me. After my sleep-in issue my week was one big blur. Friday was a wash of a day because I worked and then sat on my couch staring at the big black box with pretty pictures and sounds for most of the night. Then on Saturday I met my sister for some errands and a trip to Target (said with a French lisp) for my second of three consecutive days spent at the red bullseye.

Saturday night I met the settlers gang for some serious gaming and food. It was a crazy night for oh so many reasons but I thought it might be fun to do a word association with each member to highlight the crazyworldness of the evening:

Eddie - CRANIUM KING. Did I have an agenda when I suggested the dynamic duo of Eddie and Katie be a team for cranium? You bet your pants I did. Eddie is unstoppable in this game when it comes to acting, humming, guessing, spelling, and other things I can't remember. The two of us should take our skills on the road and try to make some money with our mad cranium skills. He also makes a good chicken and mashed potatoes as well as being a gracious host when his company stays until the wee hours of the night. Eddie you also didn't reach over and smack me when I wouldn't keep my big mouth closed during one of your questions (thanks for that because I know you wanted to and I wouldn't have blamed you).


Jessica- skirt, menstruating, Hillary Clinton, transected (oh the comedy). These were Jessica's answers to a cranium sensosketch (where one person has to draw something with their eyes closed while the teammate has to guess what it is) when the correct answer was kilt. Jessica always brings a burst of humor to any situation. If I could bottle it and sell it I would be a millionaire and Jes would be a sucker for letting me make money on her.

Roger-Gnilleps. Roger is a HIGHLY accomplished graphic designer but says he can't spell for anything, yet he spelled some hard words backwards for a male dominated game of dueling genders.

Bianca-Little hobbit package, big momma wallop. Bianca pulled out a can of "whup up on you"
during the game of cranium and scared me for a moment, at least until I bent her over my knee and gave her a good spanking (sadly this is a true account of the actions). She also dominated at Settlers and made me come in second (or as Jerry Seinfeld likes to call it the first looser, out of all the loosers you came in first, no one lost better than you).

Matt (formerly known as mmmm ahhhh double t) - Scared. Well maybe he wasn't scared but I would be looking for the big bottle of pills, stash of straight jackets, and the padded room with this crew. Matt sat beside me and I thought he might be trying to figure out how to leap over my chair and make a run for the door because we were deep in CRAZY world that night. Matt might have been a little overwhelmed by us or he was just trying to learn the game that has 5 million rules while sitting next to the official Settlers expert (Roger). All in all Matt wins kudos from me for just surviving.

Sunday was a day of rest (which in my world means a day of shopping). I hit the stores with my mom and sisters. We did it all (including my third trip to Target in one weekend) and I got my mom to buy boot cut jeans (a round of applause for my mom stepping out of the 90's and into the new millennium with her jean selection). It was a fun time, if not a crazy time.

Now I'm back to the daily grind and SUMMER HOURS (fireworks shoot off in the background as a huge choir sings in exaltation). I will be around blogworld but maybe not in the afternoon because of SUMMER HOURS.

Random note: the blogger spell check tried to change "Jessica's" to "cheesecake". Classic.

Do you ever . . .

just sit alone staring at the TV and laugh uncontrollably? I do. There are those classics that cause me to burst into gulping laughs, Seinfeld and Friends being two all-stars. The West Wing, with its dry wit and random moments of pure comedy, can cause me to shift from deep thought to bubbly laughter.

Last night I found a new show/special that brought me joy and laughter. Dan Finnerty and The Dan Band was a comedic enterprise. Picture a man with a backwards baseball cap, cargo pants, mechanic shirt, and red Chuck Taylors belting out with much emoting brought on by estrogen all the chick songs you have come to love. Here is a mere sampling of the songs he “covers”: Total Eclipse of the Heart, Scrubs, Genie in a Bottle, Shoop, Slave for you, Nasty Boys, Hold on (a personal fav from the Wilson Phillips group), My name is Luca (classic 80’s), What a Feeling, Fame, You Oughta Know (the epitome of angry girl rock).

So I’m watching this man sing all these chick songs and he has choreography. Choreography people that could fit in a music video for any of these songs. Not only that, but he has two back up singers that make you think the Clark Kent look alike contest is on the same stage. Suit and black rimmed glasses with the slick hair these guys sing backup and throw in some killer dance moves.

It was weird and yet hilarious. It seems he is a hit in Hollywood with the celebrity set and now he is a hit with me. I could have done without the bleeped out words he decided to intersperse in the songs (they are funny and witty alone with a dude singing them) but overall it was Hilarious.

One moment hit a comedic chord: While singing Nasty Boys (Janet Jackson at her best) the backup singers hit the final note and pulled their shirt open to expose a specific body jewelry that many of you might remember from the Super Bowl fiasco. A little off color humor but funny no less.

Green eyed girl, Sha na na na na na na na na na

When I was little I wanted red hair, freckles, and green eyes. My blonde hair, fair skin, and blue/green eyes were fine but I wanted to be exceptionally different. I did not want brown hair. In fact I once told my mother (who has brown to light brown hair, not dirty blond mother) that I didn’t want to grow up and have black hair like her. Suffice it to say that my mother still reminds me of this sweet proclamation I made as a child.

Back to me. So I wanted red hair, freckles, and green eyes which were exactly like a Precious Moments doll that I saw when I was young. I guess I wanted to be Anne (with an E thank you very much) Shirley or at least a precocious young stand out. Alas as much as I wished, my hair did not change color, nor did freckles miraculously appear on my cheeks.

In high school I did get one of my wishes. I had contacts (people I might as well be blind for what I can see without assistance from some curved glass or little pieces of flexible plastic). I got GREEN contacts. Bright GREEN. Demonic GREEN (at least that is what my friends called it when I was in direct sunlight and the green of my eyes caused others to be drawn into a deep trance like state of staring).
I loved my green contacts. It made me different, special, individual. I got all kinds of compliments on my green contacts. People would stare at my eyes and mention how beautiful my eyes were. I miss my green contacts. Unfortunately I got too blind to wear colored contacts. Stupid astigmatism. Now I have my blue/green eyes which change color depending on what I’m wearing. I like to wear bright green now and then, so that I can reminisce about my green eyes

Where is that pesky apple with the sleeping potion, and who is the wicked witch with the magic mirror?

Last night I went to bed at 10:00 p.m. and while this may be late for some of you early to bed, early to rise makes a man boring, sad, and not me, it was super early for me to be creeping between the covers but I was SUPER tired yesterday for no good reason. So I hit the sack a good hour to two early for my normal sleep patterns (I do make up for these late nights on the weekends where lunch and wake up are synonymous terms).

Therefore this was my morning:

I was having a horrible dream, a nightmare no less where I was called out in the middle of a BSF leadership meeting for giggling and talking to my neighbor and asked, in front of the 20 or so other leaders, to leave the meeting, and to not be a BSF leader anymore. Looking back it is not as heart wrenching and horrible as it was in the dream but I actually woke up crying (I have weird dreams people).

So as not to cause me to be awake at an unnatural hour I refused to open my eyes as I woke up, told myself it was just a dream, wiped the tears off my cheeks, and rolled over forcing myself to fall back asleep.

The next sound I remember is a knock at my door. Now this is a weird occurrence because I live in the country and no one ever comes to my house, at least not without my prior knowledge. The only people that knock at my door are my landlords/neighbors. I rolled out of bed threw on a robe and went to answer the door. My mind is racing and yet very, very s…….l…………o…………………..w. I’m all confused as to what is going on.

I open the door and blink at the sheer brightness of the sun as I face my sweet landlady. She looks at me with a smile and asks if I overslept.

Now I’m thinking that 9 a.m. (I had noticed the time on my alarm clock as I rolled out of bed) is a normal time for my weekend wake-up (WEEKEND being the key word here). I must have looked like a puppy dog when you first say the word sit because she smiled and said that Linda (our school secretary) had called her because they hadn’t been able to reach me and were worried.

The clouds parted, the fog cleared, my senses returned and I quickly realized that it was WEDNESDAY and it was 9:00 A.M. I was supposed to be at work at 8 and here I was in my robe with sleep still stuck in my eye sockets and lucid thoughts just now synapsing in my brain.

I began to do the crazy girl shuffle where you turn and turn and turn and turn as your brain races with all the things you need to do and yet you are moving only in a circle. If my brain was shut off just a minute before it was now on overdrive as I rushed through my house trying to complete my morning routine in a world record five minutes. Shower – no time, tooth brushing - a must, clothes – would be more professional than my current robe attire.

I called the school to apologize and inform them I would be there asap. They of course were super sweet (if not making fun of me a little, well a lot) and thought that maybe I was sick or worse dead on the side of the road a sad victim of cow swiping (like side swiping but more prevalent in farm land like I live in).

So here I am, the butt of a few jokes, eating lunch a mere three hours after I woke up, and yet completing all my tasks for today.

I 'm just waiting for seven little men singing "Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work we go . . " to show up at work and for my prince charming to ride up on his trusty steed.