Friday, August 29, 2008

I'll tell you this much - there was groping involved

I've been house sitting (surprise) for the Duke these past two weeks. They have a dog that (again, surprise) pees inside the house. It's really not even worth mentioning because this trend of incontinent dogs I watch has catapulted into the ridiculous. I mean, does EVERY dog pee inside the house and I just haven't noticed because I've never been a dog owner? When I lived with Rac and Emma at their family's home and we took care of Jane, their Boston Terrier, she never peed inside. And she was certainly not the brightest of God's creatures. Lovable and gaseous, but not bright.

This is all irrelevant because what I really want to say is that I have essentially been without a phone for two weeks and it's kind of been like Heaven for me. I get zero reception up at the Dukes. I am way beyond having no bars. It seems I can only call out if I'm calling 911. And since I can no longer talk on the phone in my car and most days I work so many hours (roughly about a squillion every Tuesday, Thursday and Friday) that days go by when I'm literally only in my car or at work or at the Dukes, I haven't called anyone in a very long time. And I'm fine with that. You know my anxiety about calling people.

But today -- oh, today -- I want to call everyone because you will never believe what I had to do at work. Never. It is just too crazy -- and, I feel, not exactly for mixed company, which means it is not for this blog. Trust me boys, you would be mortified. But gals, you will laugh and laugh and laugh because, Knights of Columbus!, this is a funny story. It tops ultrasounding that guys toe and the time I had to guess whether the black furry stuff on a woman's back was part of her sweater or a rogue patch of back hair. Please ask me the next time you see me (unless we're in church, I can't do it at church) to tell you what happened. I'm DYING to tell it.

Sometimes I have to pinch myself that I lucked into a job with so many great stories to tell. It's like a dream come true for me.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Cows, Herpes, and Bob Costas

*I'm hoping for some great google hits from that title

1.) The other day I was driving over Grand, you know that part between Diamond Bar and Chino Hills, and there was a whole herd of cows all facing north. I thought it was the strangest thing because they were just standing there looking towards the mountains. I thought maybe there was some sort of cow convention going on and the keynote speaker was addressing them but I couldn't see any cows in suits with head mics on so I just chalked it up to general cow wackiness. And then today I read this article. Looks like you don't have to be a German scientist to make this observation.

2.) I think I'm allergic to my most favorite lip balm - Rosebud Lip Balm strawberry flavor. And anyone who knows me knows that this is a huge blow. This is sadly not the first time this has happened (remember the Suspicious Lip Explosion of 2005 that one doctor told me was herpes. I beg your pardon, sir!) I'm still good with Burt's but this one made my lips all pretty. It also makes the tip of my tongue numb and my nose all boogery.

3.) I miss the Olympics. I miss Bob Costas and warm and fuzzy Olympic montages. And I missed watching random sports that I never really care about outside of the Olympics - like track and field. To prove how brightly the Olympic Spirit burns within me, I actually didn't hate the NBA players when I saw them win the gold medal. The thought, "Good for Kobe," ran through my head. And it wasn't said with any bitterness. Who am I?!

Tuesday, August 26, 2008

Organ Failure

Dear Person Who Chose the Songs for Church on Sunday,

A little heads-up would have been nice.

I know that people who don't play the organ can't really distinguish between what's easy and what's hard but it was almost as if you chose from a secret handbook sitting around the clerk's office titled: Impossibly Difficult Songs to Play on the Organ that will No Doubt Bring Shame and Humiliation to the Poor Organist Who has to Play Them Because She Really Isn't Even That Competent to Begin With But Plays Anyway Because She Likes to Serve Where She Can Despite the Fact That She Has No Natural Talent for Playing as Evidenced by her Continued Butchering of Songs on a Semi-monthly Basis Which Manages to Kill the Spirit of the Meeting Every Time. I have no doubt the Deacons have put this out as they are always up to some mischief.

If such a handbook does not exist then you just so happened to luck into a trifecta of tough songs. "Who's on the Lord Side, Who?" (my favorite hymn/sea shanty) is tough but manageable at a decent pace, and "Behold a Royal Army" has a few challenging parts but I've worked my way through it before. So on any given Sunday I would have been okay with one, possibly even both of these with only a few minor flub-ups. But we took "Who's on the Lord Side, Who?" at warp speed and then we even took the sacrament hymn faster than I was prepared for, which made "Behold a Royal Army" more challenging than I was expecting because by that point my fingers were done.

I would have forgiven you for these but you didn't stop there. You had to put in "True to the Faith".

Let's talk about this song for a sec. I think every church organist will agree with me that this is the Widowmaker of all hymns. It's super fast and it has a bass line that doesn't stop. On a good day I can maybe get half the notes in but after playing the other two songs I already felt like I had run a marathon. Maybe you saw the look on Katie's face in the congregation when the song was announced. She looked over at me and grimaced and mouthed, "I'm so sorry." Yeah, so am I. Because this is not the only time this year that I've had to play it. It's the third - which, again, every church organist would agree is just plain mean. You're lucky I can't reach the pedals because if I had to play that bass line with my feet you would have seen me curled up on the floor in a pool of tears, which would have been enough to short circut the organ and then where would you be.

I'm happy to play the organ. Really, I am. But I'm just giving you fair warning that the next time I have to play "True to the Faith" it will be slow enough for you to wonder who died.


PS - Amy's comment just reminded me of another thing. They were LONG. Like 18 verses each. Were you trying to kill me?

Friday, August 22, 2008

Big Edie in the House!

The Doc has me on these natural allergy meds and I think what they mean by "natural" is "peyote" because I am feeling really loopy today. Like everything is silly kind of loopy.

Everything we do in the office has suddenly become hysterical to me. Like how I'm always pulling on people's ears or legs or heads or arms. And how the Doc holds up supplements to patients' chests and asks the body if it will take it (she did it to me and my body neglected to tell her that it would make me high.) I've been fighting off giggle fits all day. You may ask why I don't just let it out. Well, I would except that everyone, especially the Doc, does not see any humor in holistic medicine. No, not at all. They are Believers. And Believers don't think it's funny that you think pulling on their ear is hilarious. Anytime I try to make a joke about people walking up and down our hallway (a common practice -- something to do with calming down the body and preparing it for more pain), wearing nothing but a gown and their pantaloons, I get an earful about exactly why it is being done and how the Doc has saved their lives and did I know that the medical industry is trying to kill us and the pharmaceutical companies hate babies and puppies and love the Nazis. Did I say Believers? I meant Nut-jobs. Nice Nut-jobs, but nutty none-the-less. So no, I can't actually laugh. And you all know what a huge shame this is.

So what I wanted to tell you was that we have this patient who came in today to pick up some supplements and she just got back from Hawaii and was wearing a rather low-cut sundress and she's like 119 years old which means that (and this is the part where I rack my brain for a good euphemism because my dad reads this blog and I know that in a few seconds he's going to hang his head and sigh because he's wishing he had classier daughters but the peyote is really taking affect and I can't seem to think of a clever way to say this so I'm just going to tell it like it is, so sorry Dad) her enormous old-lady bosom was swinging down to her knees and all I could think of was Big Edie from Grey Gardens and her makeshift sweater/tube top and it took everything in me to not do my Little Edie impersonation for her and offer her some corn on the cob and then melt into a pool of giggles. I held it in...barely. But right now, with the Doc gone and all the Believers out of the office I'm laughing hysterically and can hardly see the computer screen from all the tears.

There will be entirely different tears tomorrow when Sam and Stacy and the Blessed Nephews return to the Frozen North. But for now I'm laughing.

Wednesday, August 20, 2008

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Put another candle on the birthday cake.

Happy Birthday to me! I love birthdays. I don't understand why some people don't. How often do you get the opportunity to eat cake and open presents? And while I'm more of a pie girl, I'm not going to pass up a cake dedicated to me. No sir.

So, to celebrate I want all of you to go out and eat lots of dessert. Because if you were here with me that's what we would be doing.

Friday, August 15, 2008

The Theatah!

I love Show Biz People. Don't you? They have such flare and they're just so funny, without actually trying. And you know how much I love that (think Wayne Newton). I love how they're always talking about their "craft" and "the arts" and "when I played Curly in the community theatre's production of Oklahoma!" (Does anyone else sing out the spelling of Oklahoma when they write it?) And I feel like I understand them a little because I was a drama geek in high school (for the record, I was very bad) and I know what comes of too much time under the spotlight. And also too much time hanging out with other Show Biz People.

So it was a real treat for me this morning when we had not one but TWO Show Biz People in my office! They were both in the unwinding room and were chatting away about classes they've taken and songs they're working on and what actor said what about another actor. Oh, the drama! It was a great. One of the guys has wild hair like Mozart and often speaks with a dramatic accent. And the other guy, while I was looking for a clothes pin to attach the wires to his blanket (it is such a long explanation. Don't ask.) he said, "You need a C-47. And I said, "What's that" and he said, "Oh, in Show Business that's what we call a clothes pin." He actually said it! And with a straight face. It was awesome. Later on, when I was pulling his ear (seriously, we do strange things here) I wanted to ask him if he ever played Curly.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Curry Chicken or Curry Chicken

Amanda gave us the Get out of Dodge challenge for the weekend. Here's what I did: (All the places I went to will be highlighted in purple.)

1.) On Thursday night Nicola treated us to the Hollywood Bowl for the French Masters Night. But I like to call it Classic Nicola Night because, as usual, she classed the thing right up. As anyone who has been to the Hollywood Bowl with me knows, I'm a cheap seats kind of girl. But not with Nicola. She managed to score box seats that came with valet parking. Which means that we did not have to walk the mile and a half up hill after paying $12 for parking. Oh no. We drove right up behind the bowl and dropped our car off and headed to our box, where we couldn't even see the seats we normally sit in.

2.) On Friday night we had our regular Olympic Opening Ceremonies party. We totally stuck the landing with all the delicious food. We had stuff from Italy, the Philippines, Switzerland, the Netherlands, Brazil and France. And we had a great time watching it in China and making fun of the Hungarian teams outfits. Thanks to everyone who came and fed us.

3.) Lizzie had a birthday! And to celebrate we went to an Indian restaurant where I ordered something called khahiri chicken. Except that the waitress, who sounded like she may have been fresh from Mumbai, thought I said curry chicken. I can see how she would mix it up because the way she was saying them made them sound exactly the same. Here's the convo we had after she brought every one else's food out:
Her: Did you want the curry chicken or the curry chicken?
Me: I think it was called khahiri chicken but I'm not sure.
Her: Okay, the curry or the curry?
Me: Um...maybe it's not khahiri. It started with a kh. Do you have
anything like that?
Her: Yes. We have the curry chicken and the curry
Me: Do you have a menu? I could point it out to you.
Her: So you got the curry chicken?
Me: Not the curry, the khahiri.
Her: Right, I'll bring you curry.

By this point (that point being everyone at the other table asking for take home boxes) I was ready to just eat the rest of my naan and call it day. But it was also pure comedy and I can appreciate that. I don't actually know if I got khahiri chicken. It looked a lot like Brett's curry chicken but it said khahiri on the bill so who knows. And either way it was tasty.

So, I didn't actually head out of Dodge but I'm also pretty sure that Dodge does not serve curry chicken or curry chicken. I'm totally counting it.

Tuesday, August 5, 2008

His toe is not pregnant

Things I thought of to take my mind off of the fact that I was doing an ultra-sound on a patient's fungusy big toe:

1.) If I were at my old job right now I would be spending the entire day repeating the difference between inter- and intra-district transfers to parents who wouldn't get it even after I brought out the map. This new job is way more awesome.
2.) I know, I'll play geography games. List all the countries in Africa. Egypt, Libya, Tunisia...South Africa.
3.) Still 5 more minutes.
4.) Could this guy's gown be any shorter on him?
5.) I mean, there is short and then there is SHORT. And this is Mr. Shorty McShortster short.
6.) I wish I were better at small talk. I wonder if someone has a book I can borrow on it.
7.) I'll move on to state capitals. Alabama - Montgomery, Alaska - Juneau...Wyoming - Cheyenne.
8.) Knights of Columbus! Is this timer broken?

I guess when the doctor asked if I had a problem touching people she actually meant if I had a problem touching people's toes. Maybe I should have said yes.

Sunday, August 3, 2008

What I really mean when I say, "I forgot to get you a gift."

I just clicked over to Amanda's blog and saw the picture she has on her sidebar of her in the eyebrows I sent her a while ago. And it made me a little sad that I didn't do what I normally do when I buy a gift for someone that I would love for myself - which is to keep it. Because those things are hilarious.*

Does anyone else do this? This is why I don't buy presents for people until the day of their party. Because there is a very good chance that I will decide to just hold onto it instead. It's a horrible habit, I know. And I really can't tell you how many times I've done this. It's a lot. Especially to my best friend Cynde. I can't help it if we have very similar taste in things. We're best friends for crying in the mud! We're suppose to be like that. Usually around her birthday I start pulling out things that I have picked up for her over the year and go through and decide what to give her and what to keep for myself. Shameful.

I'm telling you this because maybe I'm feeling a little guilty for all those times when a friend has said, "Hey! That's such a cute bag," and I would be all, "I know," and secretly remembering that I had bought it for their last birthday. It has happened more than once.

*The reason why I did send them to Amanda was because I knew that she would appreciate them better than most people and would take pictures of herself wearing them that she would post on her blog. Mission accomplished.