Thursday, February 28, 2002

Just got this e-mail from our office manager:

I just received a notice that Animal Rights Activists will be protesting in front of the building from 4:30 -6:30. Please be careful on the way home.

Well, this should be an eventful exit! The weird thing is, I have no clue who the hell they are protesting against in my boring old building. A co-worker is concerned because she chose today to wear her fur coat, which she only wears a few times a year. I'm all for animal rights, even though I eat meat and wear leather, but to harrass us who have no idea what they are protesting? I guess we'll find out soon enough...
Feeling: blah
Craving: flan
Wishing: that this day would speed the hell up
Wondering: what drives people to act like martyrs?
Hoping: that at least one of the e-mails I've sent out today gets answered. Must be part of the Big Blue Eyes Syndrome: She's so nice, she won't care if we don't reply!
Thinking: about the weekend.
I'm sick, I'm at work and I'm in a BAD mood. I either need a punching bag or a hug.

Wednesday, February 27, 2002

Is it any wonder that my chin won't stop breaking out when I work in the most arid place this side of the Sahara with a freak amount of stress heaped on to boot?
My skin is telling me to find another job. Maybe I should listen.
Oh dear god. I take this quiz and I'm the scary woman Hollis and I both hate! She decorates mirrors with seashells for crying out loud!

take the which one of the trading spaces cast are you? quiz!

I suffer from a condition known as the Big Blue Eyes Syndrome. It's origins are unknown, but it seems everyone thinks that just because you have big blue eyes (though mine are really gray) you are sweet and innocent and 'the type you take home to meet mother'. People (read: dirty old men) think they can say things to you and you won't snap. Some people (like co-workers and skeezy roommates) think you never lose your temper, therefore can walk all over you. Some think you spend every Friday night playing solitaire and knitting. There are the ones (psychos) who will try to talk to you on a train when you really just want to be alone with your thoughts (Hollis, another BBES sufferer knows all about this). The coniving homeless types think you'll be a sucker enough to give them your paycheck. There are the few who will try to set you up on a date with someone they wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole, but because you have those big blue peepers, you'll just love their ex-con friend with 3 kids! I beg everyone out there to start seeing your blue-eyed friends as brown, green or hazel-eyed. And to others suffering with this affliction, I say we start a support group and try to put an end to this insanity. Spread the word -- Big Blue Eyes Syndrome needs a cure and only we can stop it through educating the masses!
Remind me to stop e-mailing certain people. Thanks.

Tuesday, February 26, 2002

Songs stuck in my head today: "Why do Fools Fall in Love" and "America" by Simon and Garfunkel.
Annoying words today: Persnickety, pathos (I'm convinced only people trying to sound smart use this word in conversation, writing, etc.)
Feeling: Itchy
Wish: That Dr. Phil would go away and take his preaching with him
Hopeful thought: only 2 days till the first Yankee Spring Training game

Why oh why did I give up chocolate for Lent?
Think tank question of the day: who are the bigger game-players, men or women? And why does this still go on in relationships way past high school?

My office makes me sneeze. In fact, it makes anyone who walks through the door have a sneezing fit. Maybe I should call up my favorite over-sensationalized news casters, Fox 5 NY, and get them up here. If they climb through the vents and stuff, I'm sure they could find lots of diseases lurking up there. My guess is mold...

Monday, February 25, 2002

Don't you hate things that tell you how to be a good writer? Blogger, for instance, has a little piece on how to be a better blog writer. In my humble opinion, if you need to be told how to write, you're obviously doing it for the wrong reasons and should put the pen down. It should come from the heart. You know when you write something good because it just feels right spilling out, not because it's forced after reading something some big ego wrote to make himself feel better about his own writing.
That's it@! The next person to look at me crooked when I say I don't smoke up is going to get their bloodshot eyes poked out. I'm so sick of not judging people who smoke pot and having them judge me. I have my reasons for not doing it, but let me tell you it's not because I'm a goody-goody, not because I'm a christian zealot and not because I'm a bore. I just never saw a reason to get high and if I ever did smoke up, I'd be the biggest fucking hypocrite on the planet. After all the years of nagging my mom to quit smoking her cigarettes, I'm going to light up and put something with four times the tar of a cigarrette into my lungs? And EVERY time I try to explain this to someone, I get looked at like I'm a big baby or something. I'm just sick of it. I don't eat broccoli, I don't have straight hair, I don't like the Mets and I don't smoke up. Get used to it.
Did you ever notice there is always one? There is always one loud obnoxious person with a cellphone on every otherwise quiet train car. There is always one bitchy girl who is after the same man you are after. There is always one slut who will try to steal said man away from you when she sees how happy you are together. There is always one catty, backstabbing person at the office you can't trust. There is always one person in the office you avoid having conversations with because they are antagonistic and annoying. There is always one person who doesn't pay attention in class and will spend the last five minutes of that class asking questions that everyone else absorbed during the period. This will generally happen as everyone is packing up, anticipating an early dismissal, and the professor asks 'any questions?' and that one special person is the only one. There is always one drunken idiot in your section at a sporting event. There is always one groping couple practically having sex in your subway car, day or night. There is always one person who gets off the escalator and then just stands there, blocking the exit. There is always one who forgets to turn off their cellphone at the movie theater, despite all the signs, voice-overs, etc. asking you to please shut it off. Think about it -- there is always one in all of life's situations!

Sunday, February 24, 2002

I don't know what it is about weekends and loud people on NJ Transit, but I'd like at least one quiet ride home from New York at some point on a Sunday. Today it was the loud Italian woman, who sat across the aisle from her friend and screamed her entire end of the conversation. At first I couldn't decipher what language she was speaking. It sounded like a hybrid of French/Italian/Russian. Then she got on her cell phone and ended every conversation by yelling 'Ciao!' Let's just say I came very close to yanking her by her fake red hair and grabbing the phone away from her. She was laying across her seat, which the conductors usually yell at you for, but I think they were afraid of her. Every now and then she'd look around, practically daring people to say something about her being loud. But I think people were debating whether to strangle her or the obnoxious 20 somethings at the front of the car, who were all dressed up and extremely annoying. One of the guys, who looked about 12, kept getting up and walking around, like he owned the damn train. At least they were being loud in English, but they were definitely worthy of an evil glance every now and then.

Now that the battle du jour has taken place on the Olympic ice, with Canada no longer being the Boston Red Sox of Olympic Hockey and the United States at least making it to the final game, can we bring back the amateurs? The game would've been so much more exciting if I didn't keep thinking of it as an NHL All-Star game that just happened to take place during the Olympics. There's something fun about seeing a bunch of broke college kids making a "miracle" than some millionaires who took 4 years to realize what getting a second chance at an Olympic medal is really worth.

I got a little tipsy at Mike and Kurt's swingin' fiesta this weekend. I use the word 'fiesta' because a pinata was actually involved. Note to self: Never let anyone over the age of 10, someone full of real-world disappointments and angst, have at it with one of those things with bare hands. Kurt and Mike will be finding candy around their apartment for months.

Friday, February 22, 2002

Is it me or is the Russian federation like a big freaking 2-year-old? Wahhhh, our athletes aren't performing to their potential so just give us the medals or we'll leave your clubhouse! I think they're just really confused after years and years of being favored by judges just for being Russian. Welcome to reality, comrades. Do they really think that Slutskya deserved a gold medal after her boring, no 2 triple-triple combination, slow-moving performance? This whole thing with the Canadians, while rightly fixed, just opened up a whole can of whiny worms. I can't wait for that new scoring system to go into effect.
Can we please take all the weapon-toting whack-jobs in the world, put them on a secluded island together, and let them all kill each other? This dude in Toms River, about an hour south of where I live, killed four people (including his own grandaughter)on his street yesterday for no apparent reason, other than that he was disturbed over accidentally killing a kid with his car in the 70s and he hasn't been the same since. Why the ass had to take out four others when he just could've killed himself is beyond me. I'm sorry to sound so heartless, but I'm sick of pyschotic people taking people's lives for no reason except that they were too proud to seek professional help for themselves. I don't care if it's a homeless man who shoves a nurse infront of a train, a mother drowning her 5 kids or two "misunderstood" high school brats taking out their classmates -- they killed people, plain and simple, "insane" or not -- let the punishment fit the crime. Very un-PC of me, I know.
Let Sarah Hughes' performance and work ethic be a lesson to us all. You go in an underdog, have fun while doing your thing, and if you're rewarded, rock on. I was kinda hoping for an American sweep, but you can't have everything. I'm just glad Tara Lipinski is gone. For some reason, Sarah Hughes' scream of joy when she learned she won was much more sweet and tolerable than Tara's scary impish squeal of delight.
Now that I only have 5 1/2 hours to sleep, I'll leave my figure skating raving at that. I can honestly say I won't be up this late on a school night until October, when my truest loves in sports will hopefully be playing for another Series crown. Yes, old fartdom has taken me over at 24.

Thursday, February 21, 2002

Happy 25th B-day to Hollis!

I don't get granting this insane sum of money to lure people to move downtown again. Here's a concept: Lower the rents! I'd live down there in a heartbeat if I didn't have to give up my first born and go without food, clothes and electricity just to afford the apartment. I'm sick of hearing landlords be like "Oh, people are moving away and it's crippling the business of downtown." Well, get off your greedy ass and make it affordable for people making less than a six-figure salary!

Wednesday, February 20, 2002

So I get that silly 46 things guys wish girls knew, yet again, and I still don't find it helpful. It doesn't unlock the male mystique and only seems to be a gripe against women. Here is my response:

If you won't dress like the Victoria's Secret girls, don't expect us to act like soap opera guys.
Now, let me take a second here to ponder this notion. Um, soap opera guys are generally evil or sappy, so why would I want a guy to behave this way toward me? And there's no makeup in the world that could help us average looking women to look like the models gracing the pages of everyone's favorite lingerie catalog. I think women have it a little harder here than the poor man who wrote this.

Do not cut your hair. Ever. Long hair is always more attractive than short hair. One of the big reasons guys fear getting married is that married women always cut their hair, and by then, you are stuck with her.
Silly shallow ass. So it would be OK for me to tell a man to not go bald, as most of them lose hair after they are married as well as get a big old beer gut, and then you're stuck with HIM.

Sunday = sports. It's like the full moon or the changing of the tides. Let it be.
As long as you're willing to give up sex the entire month of October if the Yankees are in the playoffs and usually means a lack of sleep for me, we'll call it a deal.

Crying is blackmail.
What did you do to make me cry this time?

Christopher Columbus did not need directions, and either do we.
And neither do I, as I'm far better at getting places than almost any guy I know.

More women should wear Wonderbras and low-cut blouses. We like staring at boobs.
Then you should be obsessed with your reflection in the mirror!
Now hear this: I am no longer taking shit from anyone. Thank you.

Tuesday, February 19, 2002

Could someone explain why I've got Leo Sayer's "You Make Me Feel Like Dancing" stuck in my head? Pretty peppy tune for the first day of the work week. Dancin', Dancin', dance the night away...

Oh wow. A co-worker just walked by and he's wearing this cologne/aftershave that just tossed me right back to my Delaware days. For some reason, I just always associated it with college. I don't even know who wore it or the name of the cologne/aftershave. I'm not even a big fan of cologne on guys -- I like the whole soap, shampoo and/or laundry detergent "clean" smell -- but this one just takes me back.
Don't you hate the excitement of opening you inbox, seeing a lot of messages there, and not one is from somebody you know? It's so disappointing when it's all spam, like the e-mail gods are taunting you.

I'd like to know why all the men in the ice dancing competition have long hair. Is that like a "dramatic" look or something? Does ice dancing make men release more horomones, and their hair grows at a rapid pace? Is the goal to look like the cover of a trashy romance novel? Are points awarded for coiffedness??

I've got my voice back, but the soreness in the throat has spread to my ears, which are now a bit itchy. It is very uncomfortable and I'm in a take-no-shit mood today. After Friday, when a higher-up co-worker who always leaves between 5-5:15 told my partner that we should stay later, until all the stuff for the day is done (roughly 7 p.m.), I almost flipped out. I'm sick of dragging my ass in here at 9 every day (which requires getting up at 6 a.m., a time when all my co-workers are still dreaming) not taking a lunch, staying a half hour later than I'm supposed to every day, sometimes later, not getting paid for it, then it being insinuated that we should work harder just because we're "lucky" to have jobs, which is quite disgusting. It's like blackmail. Time to start the best-seller. I can't take this crap much longer.

Monday, February 18, 2002

When you've hit your 20s, shouldn't you be beyond submitting to peer pressure? It's like, can't you make up your own friggin' mind? You can't like yourself and trust your own judgement? No, you have to look cool in front of everyone, still, like you're 14 again. Think. You've probably given in recently. We probably all have. A generation of people who think their morals aren't good enough and that we still have to please everybody. What a shame.

I'm coming down with something and I'm going to throttle whoever gave it to me -- because I'm losing my voice with no fever, and that doesn't warrant a sick day from work. I probably got it from germy NJ Transit. Lord knows they've dealt me every other kind of aggravation.

In other news, Des and Hollis have started updating their blogs. It is one thing that cheers me today. As for the rest of my odd bad mood, I'm going to sleep it off now.

Friday, February 15, 2002

There is justice in the world. They're giving the Canadian figure skaters their gold medal afterall. I honestly didn't think anything would happen, that this would just get swept under the rug. Probably because I've never seen a sporting result over-ruled. That's how you know this was huge. The Olympics are fraught with this behind-closed-doors, I'll-scratch-your-back-if-you-scratch-mine crapola and it's about damn time something was done about it. And it took them only 106 years to realize it.

Thursday, February 14, 2002

No Valentine...24 years and counting...
This Karen feels mildly sorry for herself moment is brought to you by Hallmark, who urge all of you out there to pair up because we want you to believe that you're nobody till somebody loves you so we can earn a few extra bucks a year.
Ah, February 14th. The sun is shining. The birds are singing. There is a special feeling in the air that you don't get on any other day of the year. The kind of feeling that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside because you know IT'S SPRING TRAINING! Yes my dears, the Yankees officially start working out today. How fitting that it is on the day of worldwide love, as I love the Yankees more than any non-human thing. So even if there's no candy and flowers, at least I know springtime is right around the corner, and the Yankees will be attempting to kick some ass.

Wednesday, February 13, 2002

So I'm sick of sports "experts" insinuating that figure skating isn't much of a sport. Especially when it comes to men's figure skating. And since I had to deal with these "experts" while doing college-level sports reporting, I'd like to take you on a journey to see what your average sportswriter looks like. Come on, it'll be fun! Just don't laugh too hard because you might hurt their feelings, if they still have any. OK, now with the exception of a few (there are some likeable sports people, like Chris who will never fit the bad description because he is young and nice and personable) they're usually fat, balding and bitter. They wear the same rumpled polo shirts, are extremely sexist and still think who the hell they are. They are underpaid, know this going in, yet whine about it. They think golf is a sport just because THEY play it, yet will slam figure skating because it's...oh no, I'm going to give them away...FEMININE! I would like to see any one of these fat asses tie on a pair of figure skates, go around a rink at high speeds for 4 and 1/2 minutes without stopping, pick up enough speed to jump in the air and rotate themselves 4 times, then land on one foot, on a quarter inch of metal, on ice. And then follow up with a triple jump because you need to do those kind of things in combinition. I'd say the fat sloppy ones would be done in about five seconds. The fat bitter ones in about a minute. Now, I bring the golf thing into it not because I'm against golf (I got past the whole 'no, this can't be a sport' with any kind of low-impact contest when I realized ALL sports take some kind of skill and that needs to be appreciated more) with these shmobos is because they're not physically taxing themselves the way figure skaters do. They ride around in golf carts and then take a few swings to hit an itty bitty ball a few hundred feet. Then it's off to the bar for some pretzels and alcohol to add to their prize-winning beer belly. Whoopee! You're so athletic, Mr. Sportswriter! Someone should give you a gold medal! But they probably won't, and maybe that's why you hate the idea of some guy landing a quad jump while wearing a "feminine" outfit getting one for his "unathleticism".

Tuesday, February 12, 2002

So the Friends are coming back for another season. Whoopdeedamndo. They suck last season, have a pretty good start to this season, then mar it with the whole conveniently out-of-nowhere Joey loves Rachel crap. I think the cast realizes they are nothing without each other. Excepting Courtney Cox in Scream, have any of them done anything worthwhile off the Friends set?

I saw a few dogs for the Westminster Dog Show today outside Madison Square Garden. They were very coiffed, but cute. Especially the big shaggy one that was lifting his leg on a sidewalk planter. Even well-bred dogs must heed nature's call, I guess.
I'd like to know why so many people are just guffawing at the notion that snowboarding is an Olympic sport. They hear three American men sweep the competition yesterday and an American woman wins the gold the day before, and they just shrug their shoulders and make jokes about them smoking up before hand and being like 'dude, I won a gold medal'. Are we that stupid in this country? This was basically what the imbeciles on a NY radio station were saying this morning. I somehow doubt they actually WATCHED the competition, because once you see what these people do, it's quite awe-inspiring. I can't see half the people in this country, whose biggest athletic feat is walking on a treadmill, doing huge twists in the air while their feet are strapped to a board, then having the presence of mind to land well without breaking their neck. It many not require hours upon hours in a gym with a healthy diet regimine (read: anorexia), but takes as much athletecism and discipline as any other sport. And the whole getting high before an event, I think there's something called a drug test that they require even in sports where you think drugs aren't a problem.

Monday, February 11, 2002

Allow me to indulge my inner Olympic geek for a moment: The figure skating judges SUCK. I've been saying this for a long time now -- they are biased against anyone who isn't Russian. I thought maybe I was the only one thinking this until tonight, when the world-champion Canadian pairs team skated one hell of a performance and were beaten out by a good, but not great Russian pair. Not that the Russians are to blame -- it was the 5 asshole judges who put the Russians in first. The Canadians had a better program, more passion, no mistakes. Couldn't say the same for the winners. And the announcers seemed as aghast as everyone else in the arena. And a very BORING Russian pair finished in fourth ahead of the on-fire American pair of Ina and Zimmerman, who skated a much better performance. It was almost sickening to watch as a sports fan. And then Scott Hamilton brought up a VERY interesting point -- Kristi Yamaguchi and Tara Lipinski have won the only NON Russian ice skating medals since the Soviet Union broke up. Don't be surprised if the Russian woman (can't recall her name right now) beats out everyone in the Ladies' competition with a mediocre performance next week. Ugh. They don't put up with this crap in any other sport...And when the winners look uncomfortable taking the gold, you know something isn't right. It's called favoritism, plain and simple.
When is VH1 going to smarten up and do a Legends or Behind the Music on Stevie Wonder? The man is blind, started his career at the age of 12, has written some of the greatest songs of our time, almost died in a car accident and then did Songs in the Key of Life. I would think A&E's Biography has done something, but I have yet to see it. I thought I heard he was somehow in debt, so I was kind of hoping that would spark a tour...
I overheard my mom tell my dad this weekend 'Look over your albums because I promised Brian (longtime family friend and keeper of Jerry the stuffed mouse) he could have them' to which I got all freaked out. I told her not only did dad have to go through them, I had to go through them. Some of those records are like major memories in my mind. Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run was the first album I remember hearing. Add onto that a Dionne Warwick (the album playing when I got stuck in a garment bag in our attic at the age of 3), a late 1970s Jackson Five, Frank Sinatra's Christmas, Bob Seger's Nine Tonight (a record I will always associate with our new 1983 stereo bought at Best, the same day my parents bought me a whole lot of Smurfs merchandise), my Smurfs All Stars record, etc. and so forth and you have half my childhood. No, those records are mine, damn it.
So I'd like to know why red roses are the big Valentine's Day staple. Yes, I know they are the flower that symbolizes love and are quite pretty, but there are so many other flowers out there that symbolize lots of things. The fact that they quadruple the price of roses for Valentine's Day should turn people off, but it doesn't. And I just find it strange that it's such a cliche flower, but no one seems bothered by this. You wouldn't go giving people the same red sweater as a gift, so why the same flowers? Every woman in the world is going to be getting them (and every guy getting ripped off), but wouldn't it be even better to get a bouqet he picked out while thinking of you and not Hallmark and greedy florists telling him what you'd like?

Friday, February 08, 2002

Looks like people want the WTC area to be re-built, which is all well and good, but apartment buildings? That just strikes me as sick. "Yes, now you too can rent a piece of history -- your own luxury apartment on a site where thousands of people died! Complete with cable and Internet hookups and a full gym. All for the low, low price of $4500 for a studio! Get 'em while you can!" And you know there are people out there who would just love to over-dramatically say "I live in what was once the World Trade Center," just too look cool, which is so not right.
I get my 2 week Olympic fix starting tonight. Yes, I'm a professed Olympic addict. So with the Opening Ceremonies tonight, let me do my bi-annual psychic rundown of what we can expect to see this evening:
--A not-so-weird opening gala. Normally, they're straight out of a fever-induced nightmare, with scary people on stilts, strobe lighting and bizarre music. With this being post Sept. 11, and American Olympic Opening Ceremonies generally being down to earth, it'll probably be pretty tame.
--There will probably be some acting out of Utah history in the ceremony, but I somehow doubt polygamy will be mentioned.
--There will be papier-mache birds on long sticks that have flapping wings, representing the seagulls that ate all those plauging crickets in the 1800s and saved the Mormons. I'd bet on this if there were odds on that sort of thing.
--I have a sneaking suspicion Matt Lauer and Katie Couric, with special announcer Al Roker, will be calling the ceremony. Which sure as hell better be carried live, and not taped.
--And for the next two weeks, we'll be hit with promo after promo for those NBC shows that are flailing in the ratings. As long as channel 4 (my local station) doesn't produce another 3-minute music video, complete with cheesy song (like 'We're 4 New York' a la the 1992 summer Olympics) to promote their newscasts, we'll be OK.

Thursday, February 07, 2002

Calgon, take me away!
I seriously wonder if anyone else has to put up with as much crap as I do in the workplace. I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I just really wonder.
Behold the power of music. I think it's the coolest thing that New York City has people performing in train and subway stations. While I admit, I'm kinda sick of the Asian electric one-string thing (I'm not sure what it's called, but it emits a whiny noise that always makes my sinuses hurt for some reason), I have been astounded by some people's talents. I love the Doo-Wop guys (the young ones, who weren't even born in the 50s, but who have an appreciation for it) who are in the 34th Street Station sometimes. Then there's the roving Spanish dancer whose partner is a slutty looking manequin, which always used to succeed in making me laugh when going through Grand Central in the mornings when I lived in Queens. There's a blind accordian player who rides the N train and he always manages to play the Godfather theme when I'm on it. And then, last night, I was coming through Penn Station aroun 11, and there was a dude I've seen every now and then singing Karaoke. He was doing an OK job on George Benson's Turn Your Love Around. What got me were the stragglers who were waiting for trains and watching him. Especially this one homeless man (straight from central casting with the tattered clothes, crazy white hair and beard) who was actually dancing. He probably doesn't have much, but at least he had the opportunity to shake his groove thing for a minute or two.
My eye won't stop twitching. I hear that's a sign of stress. Now why would I be stressed?

Wednesday, February 06, 2002

Why is it that everytime they show a picture of Johnny "American Taliban" Walker, it's always the ones of him dirty and looking like a crazy coot? Not that he's sane by any stretch of the imagination, but they have new pictures of him. I'm guessing that's just not sensational enough for the news. I swear, just by seeing his pictures, I expect him to only speak in grunts and hand gestures, like he's Jodie Foster in "Nell" or Tarzan or something.
Today I am sick of dealing with stupid people. No, I'm not talking about people lacking book smarts (because everyone is guilty of being stupid in that way at some point), I'm talking about people lacking common sense. The people who seem to think the world revolves around them, and therefore don't have to take Atticus Finch's advice and walk around in anyone else's shoes. The people who are so transparent, think they're slick, yet everyone can see through their game. And unfortunately, these stupid people run offices, corporations, cities, the world, etc. That is my world weary thought for the day.
I'm not sure I understand why the Americans can't march with the WTC flag at the Olympic opening ceremonies when it's just going to be flown next to the Olympic torch later. I think the argument is something like the attack on the US was an attack on everyone, which I guess it was, but that just seems a little overly PC if you ask me. But if it were any other country, why do I get the feeling they'd be allowed to carry something like that?

Monday, February 04, 2002

OK, so the Super Bowl was quite interesting afterall. I wasn't going to lean toward any team, but then the Patriots decided to come out and be announced as a team, no I in Team involved, and that scored major points with me. Though some Boston fans were heard to be cheering 'Yankees Suck' while celebrating. So they're still bitter.

Then Mariah came out and wasn't so bad until she screeched the whole 'land of the free' part. Come on, Ms. Ego, this is a song about your country not an opportunity to show off your vocal range, which ceased being oooh-and-aaah impressive in 1991. Francis Scott Key probably shoved earplugs in while turning in his grave.

Fox really has to stop with the whole Instant Poll thing. The questions are ridiculous and the little 'doo da doo doo da doo' thing is so, argh!!! The only thing that set this apart from their heinous World Series coverage was the absence of Fox stars sitting strategically behind the teams. And John Madden didn't sound so excited when the Pats won, which leads me to believe he was rooting for St. Louis or is one hell of an impartial announcer.

The commercials were so-so. Nothing really stands out. Except the Rogaine ad, which I've seen before, with the man saying 'of course she'll feel the same way if I lose my hair. She'll just feel it about someone else.' All I can think is 1) there was a really insecure man making this commercial or 2) a really shallow woman.

The weekend was pretty groovy. Went to the Museum of Natural History with Kurt and we made two new friends, Linda and Bruce, who work there. They were quite, well, enthralled with their fields of study (him - space, her-earth) and I somehow felt bad since the bucket of general knowledge I carry around is completely full of things like 'Jim Abbott threw his no-hitter on Sept. 4 1993' and ' Crispus Attucks was the lone African American killed in the Boston Massacre' and 'Barry Manilow's Mandy was originally title Brandy, but since Looking Glass had a hit with their Brandy (the fine girl) Barry changed the title.'

OH! and I saw a Walk to Remember and I was right (spoilers coming up, and I know you are ALL just dying to see it)-- she does die! Des and I called the whole plot -- he's bad, she's good, she teaches him how to be a better person, she'll sing a song (being she's Mandy Moore and all) he'll suddenly get the hots for her and then treat her badly, then he ditches his bad popular friends for her and she announces she's dying of leukemia (I got this part right. Des said heart disease, I said cancer.) THEN they get married before she dies (at the age of 18) which leads me to say that he was probably the only widower in his college frat. I laughed my way through the movie -- the hammy crying scenes were just too much, and when he proposed, I almost choked from laughing so hard. I'm not usually like this at sad movies, but then, I don't watch sad movies that are SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO predictable.

Friday, February 01, 2002

The people are OK. Alright, SOME of the people are OK, but I hate my job.
Admitting it is the first step, right?