Greatest Hits . . . Really?

current mood: stagnant

Have you ever been ‘Rick Rolled’? If you haven’t, then you need to be; if for no other reason than to watch Rick Astley dance around in a trench coat, looking like a child predator, and singing how he’s ‘never gonna give you up’ or ‘let you down’. It isn’t very often that we are given such guarantees in life. I admit that the song is catchy and that back ‘in the day’, I danced to that song. In fact, I blame that song for my lack of dancing skills. I really thought that stepping back and forth while snapping my fingers was ‘dancing’ – and if I wanted to really spice things up, I’d hook my thumbs in my waistbands and do the ‘New Kids Dance’. You can laugh, but we’ve all done it. In fact, I am going to call someone out right here: Brandon, you wore the parachute pants and couldn’t ‘touch this’ – while sporting the MacGyver haircut. I was there. I remember.

Anyway, back Rick Astley – he has a Greatest Hits album with 17 tracks. I have only heard 2 songs on the entire album; and one of them I never realized was a “hit”. The other 15 of his ‘greatest hits’ are not ‘hits’ at all. They are just songs he sang – songs that no one in the Western World has heard. How in the world did a record company green-light this album? Seriously!

This discovery got me thinking that there must be other ‘Greatest Hits’ compilations available from people who don’t qualify. I had to search for them – to see if I can discover the secret which is a ‘Greatest Hits’ record!

The Best of Vanilla Ice

A reviewer on Amazon said it best: "If you decide to buy this CD, wait patiently by the mail box till it arrives. Upon arrival, quickly open the box, then pull the security tape from the jewel case. Open the jewel case and place the CD in one hand. Break the CD in half, then slit your wrists with the remaining shards. As you begin to die look at your reflection in the mirror-like surface of the broken CD, and ask your self what you were thinking when you ordered this CD!"

The Best of Shaquille O’Neal

Um, this is actually a music album. There are no basketball highlight reels. This CD confused me from the very first track, titled, “I’m Outstanding”. Confident? Yes! Musically Inclined? No! Plus he has one song listed twice. Is that even fair?

A Collection of Roxette Hits: Their 20 Greatest Songs

The only thing I can say for this band is that the lead singer sounds American when she sings – but cannot speak a lick of English in an interview. Oh, and I never understood exactly what “The Look” was.

UB40 Greatest Hits

This one has 21 tracks. I have heard of 3. Several others are remakes of other people’s greatest hits, which I find rather amusing.

Among others, there are also Greatest Hits albums from Offspring, Nelson, Aaron Carter, Oasis, NSYNC, Incubus, Staind, and Hillary Duff. Dear Lord . . . Aaron Carter is like 12 and Offspring is known for ‘Pretty Fly (for a white guy)’. Are these the musical legacies the music industry wants to leave to future generations? Never fear – Madonna will release her 4th greatest hits album this fall – because she is still definitely RELEVANT. I guess she is trying to release one hit record for every kid she can adopt. Good thing Angelina cannot sing.

Personal Note: Where is a broken CD when I desperately need one?

R.I.P. Marcus Aurelius

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Honour in Death

current mood: sad

So the lights are flashing my mind is spinning
I feel like it is always the beginning
Of another rhyme I'm rapping M.C.'ing I rock
You ain't nothing but a car thief who must be stopped
~ “Car Thief” by Beastie Boys

I have a car – kind of. That is, I used to have a car. His name was Marcus Aurelius, and a more beautiful car has never been. When I am sad, I like to sit in the front seat - with my bare feet on the dash – and just breathe. Marcus is a 2008 Honda Civic 5-speed; gun-metal grey; 4-doors; and a dash light panel that reminds everyone of an airplane. I even had his windows tinted. I washed him once a week; had him mini-detailed on a monthly basis; and fully detailed by the dealer every 6 months. Marcus Aurelius brought me joy.

Well, for those of you who haven’t yet heard; Marcus is no longer with us. While I was not sinning in Las Vegas; someone took it upon themselves to break into and steal my beloved car. As if that were not enough – the driver and/or passenger decided that playing Rap Music would be the most logical entertainment choice – VERY LOUD RAP MUSIC. How do I know this, you wonder . . . well, you see, when they left the scene of the CRASH – they left him running.

Unfortunately, just because the Honda engine still functioned does not mean that the vehicle can be driven. And UNFORTUNATELY in this case; Hondas are damn safe cars. So the driver, passenger, and side curtain airbags were fully deployed to cushion the thieves’ impact. Instead of blood, there is glass and airbag dust throughout my car. The police suspect that the driver was either not an experienced 5-speed user OR the steering column locked up for some reason – which is why instead of turning at the T-intersection, the car planted itself face first into a reinforcement post for an industrial fence.

I have my own theory. I think Marcus took it upon himself to try to kill himself and the mother f’ers who were daring to unlawfully play rap music on his sound system. While it is still being decided whether or not he is reparable – according to the Omaha AND Bellevue Police Departments, ‘That car is never going to be driven again!’ The insurance company is taking a look at him today to verify the assessment.

There are no leads. No fingerprints. The case is not being pursued due to lack of evidence. I tip my hat to all of the officers who worked on my case; including the two that I spoke with on the phone while I was still in Vegas. I want to thank them for their diligence – which included waking my parents at 4:30am; waking NBF at 5am; and of course, waking me several times, since I was in the Pacific Time Zone and elected to fall back asleep in misery and exhaustion after each phone call – since it was still pre-dawn.

That being said, I have already been to O’Daniel Honda and paid a visit to ‘Joe Cool’ who is ready to put a 2010 Honda Civic – exactly like Marcus, except a different shade of grey – ON ORDER. The 2008 color has been discontinued and no 2009 models are available with my demanded specifications. His sales manager attempted to entice me with special financing on a car in a different color and with an automatic transmission – I less-than-politely declined. Marcus Aurelius will be reincarnated, either through a rebuild or in a newer model.

All sympathy cards, memorials, flowers, and non-tax-deductible donations can be mailed to me: PO BOX 104, Boys Town, NE 68010.

Oh, and if I find the thieves, I will personally kick them in their face!!!!

Now I Tell You Openly

current mood: anticipatory

I've got a way of knowing
When something is right
I feel like I must have known you in another life
'Cause I felt this deep connection
When you looked in my eyes
(I can't breathe)
No, I can't wait to see you again
~ ‘See You Again’ by Miley Cyrus

This past weekend was quite mild. NBF and I went to the Kimmel Apple Orchard in Nebraska City. We had so much fun picking apples and pears. They happen to have wine tasting there; and we happened to partake in that classy activity. The wines were interesting. There was even one that tasted like cherry pie. The apple beer, however, was not a tasty treat. So, if you visit the orchards, skip the beer.

While there, we shared a light lunch at one of the public tables inside the store. A family sat down next to us. There were two young boys, approximately 7 and 10 in ages, if I were to guestimate. Their grandma and grandpa were sitting with them. The mom dropped off a box of a dozen apple-cinnamon donuts. Only the older boy grabbed a donut. He was silent, except for his quiet chewing. I smiled at him and said, ‘are you going to eat all those donuts by yourself?’. His expression went from curious to annoyed in a split second. He turned his face away from me and said to no one in particular, ‘The strange lady is talking to me.’ I think the only people who actually heard him were NBF and me. I turned bright pink and started laughing. Every time I made eye-contact with NBF he would start laughing as well. We took the hint and began gathering our belongings and trash. The mom walked back to the table with more food and said, ‘Are we chasing you away?’. We just started laughing again and I assured her that it was just time for us to go. Then the older boy, who we believe, based on his mannerisms and behaviour, that he may be mildly autistic, said, ‘They are laughing at us.’ She reassured him that we were actually laughing WITH them and he again went expressionless and continued eating his donut.

On the drive home, we were still laughing at the kid’s comment. It was a good reminder that I shouldn’t talk to strangers – because they are just as scared of me as I am of them.

Last night, shortly before my bedtime, I had an incredible craving for ice cream. Thus far, I have been doing VERY well with the healthy eating concept – and besides that second day when I was ready to steal candy from the next child who walked within my line of sight. I knew that the only remedy for this craving was fruit – and of course, all the damn pears and apples we had picked were over at NBF’s. I texted and told him that I wanted my fruit. He said I was welcome to stop in and get it on my way to work if I wanted, as he lives only a few minutes from my work and almost 30 minutes from my house. That wasn’t good enough, damnit. I live a mile from Dairy Queen. I responded that the morning was not going to work and that I was just going to come by. . . I then got in my car and drove all the way to Bellevue. I ran up the three flights of stairs to NBF’s apartment and knocked on the door. He was shocked to see me. So was the girl . . . just kidding, there was no girl. He really was surprised though because he didn’t think I was actually going to drive 30 minutes to get a damn pear. In a way he was right – *blush*. Still, when I finally left to go home, I had a bag of fruit in my possession. Ice cream disaster avoided.

In 48 hours I will be drinking on the Las Vegas strip. Ain’t life grand?!?!

SHOUT OUT: Happy birthday, Henry Charles Albert David, Prince of Wales (aka Prince Harry).

PERSONAL NOTE: You are an amazing programmer!

smitten with an amazing man

current mood: determined

My Momma told me don't lose you
'cause the best luck I had was you
And I know one thing, that I love you
~ ‘Say Hey’ by Michael Franti and Spearhead

I do not make a habit of writing in specifics or identifying the people about which I write. Granted, using logic, many people have speculated as to the identities of my anonymous sources, etc. Sometimes the nicknames are too obvious to really do anything besides avoid Google search bringing up the blog entry should someone be ‘researching’ gossip info. Some nicknames are harder to identify, either because I dislike the person and don’t want them to know I am writing about their stupidity (i.e. ‘soccer boy’ who used to sit next to SCG before leaving the company); their narcissism (i.e. ‘non-kisser’), intensity (i.e. ‘nazi coach’ whom I actually adore); or due to a secret crush (i.e. ‘Becks’). I have even combined people into one personality for total anonymity. It’s creative licensing and since I do not claim that what I write is ‘just the facts’ I feel that I am free to take these liberties.

Next week ‘Kabie’ and I are going to Las Vegas, NV, where we will most likely engage in public drunkenness and debauchery. It is hard to believe that it’s been almost a year since our last visit to Sin City! Before this little holiday. However, I will be engaging in some clean, wholesome fun. Non-boyfriend (NBF) and I are going to Nebraska City to visit an apple orchard and pick our own apples. Mini road trips are great fun – and I know that we will have an amazing time. Plus I’ll get some yummy fruit to snack on. I am back on an ‘eat healthy’ kick and intend on maintaining this new habit for at least the next month. Hopefully by that point, I will no longer have to work so hard at it.

NBF is by biggest supporter and inspiration when it comes to getting healthier. He works out and eats with a level of discipline that I am doing my best to emulate (after making minor modifications which prevent me from having to eat cottage cheese or foods I cannot pronounce). I openly acknowledge that his body reflects his discipline, as it is 24 year old perfection. For myself, I am not aiming for perfection – instead I will be ecstatic when I reach 33 year old ’surprisingly fit’. I have a plan which includes strength training, healthier eating choices, and running hills three times a week with NBF. ‘Mi Madre’ and ‘Papa’ are also making healthier exercise and food decisions. Accountability is in place – now for follow-through!

PERSONAL NOTE: Next week we’re going to ‘Party like a Rockstar’ or like a ‘DJ’.

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: I love you too much to ever actually consider marrying you.

Dog Days and Beirut Nights

Current mood: cheerful

Actions speak louder than words
You gotta show us something
My heart is missing some pieces
I need this puzzle put together again
~ ‘Damaged’ by Danity Kane

Due to the new time limits on Pandora, I am no longer able to listen to it all day, every day, at work. With only 40 hours to use throughout the entire month, I have been forced to search for new entertainment avenues. Luckily, my skills with the inter webs are conducive for precisely this type of challenge. Thanks to the masterminds at windowsmedia.com, I have a full range of free streaming radio stations in which to partake. Users can search by category or just choose one of the ‘Editors’ Picks’. I found myself tempted by the latter and on a whim selected ‘Beirut Nights’. I am not all that familiar with the hoppin’ night life of the inhabitants of Beirut, Lebanon. Apparently, based on this particular radio station, they are a hot and sassy bunch. Not only do I get to hear some great music – but I am learning Arabic (kind of). Unfortunately, I have absolutely no idea what I am actually listening to.

*Abrupt Transition to a New Topic*

Lately, I have been thinking a lot about Elizabeth (aka Ebie). Her story is a tumultuous one. I wanted a pug puppy. We had contacted a reputable breeder and were ready to purchase one when a coworker mentioned that the shelter where she volunteered had just picked up a pug mix. Here is what she told us:

- It’s an adult female
- Suspected puppy mill escapee
- Has heartworm and needs to be spayed
- The shelter will put her down in the next few days if a family cannot be found for her

The twins and I went that evening to the shelter to meet the sick dog. When we arrived, there was this way too skinny, black brindle colored creature. She was very energetic for something so sick, which should have been my first warning that she would end up being a spaz! The lady at the shelter explained that if we agreed to adopt her, the shelter would pay for the heartworm treatment. Then, if she survived the treatment, which is comparable to chemotherapy, the shelter would pay for the spay as well.

The kids loved her; but I wasn’t sure that taking on a sick dog, then having her house confined for an additional couple of months after the treatments would be feasible. As we were leaving, I let the woman know I’d call her in the morning. Almost as an afterthought, she added, ‘One more thing, she needs to be in a yard with a privacy fence, since she can climb chain link.’ Wonderful!

Obviously, we adopted her and she survived the treatment. Then for two months she was in her kennel or in my lap at least 23 hours a day. She was not permitted to run around or do anything strenuous for fear her heart would give out. Time passed, and before I knew it, she was escaping our yard on a regular basis, either by climbing the 4 foot chain link fence (which we witnessed and videotaped) or by digging a hole under the fence (which we routinely filled in). When she bolted from the yard, she ran really fast – like she had a very important place to be. I’d yell, ‘Elizabeth’ and she’d stop in mid-sprint, turn around, and come running back as fast as she took off. She’d jump into my arms as if she had been gone for days.

Things haven’t changed much in the past 6 years. She still loves to dig holes under the fence. She understands very basic commands, ‘sit’, ‘bed’, ‘crate’, ‘to me’. Whether she will obey those commands is left up to her. She has to sleep with a human or else she will whine and yelp. She hates thunder storms and tries to scare the lightning away with incessant barking. She doesn’t like the dark. She will eat pretty much anything – which has caused some emergency vet issues. She is fearless against other dogs – even when they are bigger than her (and most are). She loves people, is great with children, and will sit in your lap if it is available, regardless of how many times she is pushed down.

Recent DNA tests have revealed that she does indeed have some pug genes; but is primarily a Boston terrier. There is no dog I have ever known that is as loyal and loving as Elizabeth. She may be a pain in the ass and extremely hyperactive – but she can be counted on to make her ‘family’ feel needed and cherished. Plus, in the winter, she is ultra-warm and will lay on my cold feet. I am so blessed to have found such a wonderful 4-legged companion. I hope that everyone feels this way about their own fur-babies.

PERSONAL NOTE: I am so excited for Vegas!!! We will have a blast!

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: You’re hot!

And She Ain’t Even Hot!

Current mood: beautiful

At first I was sad
At first I was crying
And then I got mad
And I started buying
Feels good, swiping your visa
Louis, Gucci, flight to Ibiza
I left you a note
Letting you know you're broke
~ “Who’s Got Your Money?” by Tina Parol

Last night, was filled with adventures, dangerous feats, wrong turns, and sweaty bodies! It was Ring Wars V – Muay Thai Kickboxing at Septemberfest! Before we headed to the Qwest Center for our ringside table seats, we met at Hiro for Happy Hour. Woo hoo for Hiro Happy Hour!

Ay 6:30, ‘FightMom’ and I left for the fights. We had to pay $6.00 for parking which is ridiculous – but we did get a rockstar space – so the sting of paying was lessened by the great location. Walking toward the fight tent, we made a quick stop at the still-clean porta potties. I hate them! We doused on the hand sanitizer after – ewwwww! At the Will Call table, we were given wristbands for alcohol and VIP wrist bands for our table seats. Unfortunately, they selected the ditziest blonde to lead us to our table. She walked us all around the ring; then looked at me and said, “Um, I don’t see your name on any of the tables.” Then silence.

She was waiting for me to say something – but I don’t know what I was supposed to say. Finally, after a couple of minutes of her staring at us, she said, “I guess you can wait here while I go ask someone.”

So, we stood there, and waited and waited until someone who had at least 60 more IQ points than this girl came over and showed us to our table – which was less than 5 feet from where we were standing. Brilliant! Our tablemates were an eclectic assortment of two Hawaiian fighters, an old man and his 10 year old grand son, and some people who never even looked at us.

The kid was an odd duck. First off, he will definitely need braces and I am rather curious as to why he doesn’t have them yet. He had on a long sleeve striped polo that looked like it came from a closet stuck in 1982. Over that, he had on a white fighting T-shirt that his grandpa must have bought him at the fights. He had input on anything and everything ‘FightMom’ and I discussed. The only contribution from grandpa was to buy the kid another effin’ Mountain Dew! Good Lord! Before long, it became apparent that the little man may have developed a slight crush on yours truly. He would just stare at me and smile when I saw him staring. ‘FightMom’ found this to be hilarious-o! I was less than amused.

Luckily, an incredible looking photographer in a hat caught my attention. He looked to be around 23 or 24, great eyes, nice body -- and ‘FightMom’ agreed. Then without notice, he took off his hat and we both cringed. By removing the baseball cap, he went from ‘Fine’ to ‘forty’, with a shaved buzz cut and a seriously receding hairline. Seriously, removing the hat ages him 15 years. Then I was no longer remotely interested – until later, when we saw him again, with the hat on. And wow, he was Hot again! This went on most the night and all I could do was hiss “Deceiver” in his direction and wonder what gypsy curse did this to him!

After one of the title fights, the annoying grandson asked me if I had a pen he could borrow to get an autograph from one of the fighters. I have an office supply store in my purse – so I handed him a black sharpie and wished him luck. He came back a short while later and returned my sharpie. After the next fight, he looked right at me and said, “Hey, do you still happen to have that marker on you?” Note, I hadn’t moved from my location. The Sharpie did not magically walk away. I told him just to hang onto it until it was time to go. He looked quite pleased with himself. It was at this point that ‘FightMom’ called him my “MBF” (mini boyfriend). I almost challenged her to a fight in the ring – but as the little kid observed, if she and I fought, she would probably win because she looked stronger (though he did acknowledge that I looked more focused). Ha ha ha ha

The fights rocked! And I cheered like a die-hard fan! It was great fun! Cannot wait until Ring Wars VI.

PERSONAL NOTE: You are the best looking man I have ever met – even when you take your hat off.

CONFIDENTIAL NOTE: Goodbye Kitty!