Practice that strut

Originally Published on 9/24/08, 3:24 PM

pics or shens

I know, I know. But she's got the type of beauty that moves

faster than my 1 point 3 mega-pixel phone shooter

her black heels waiver ever more with

forced femininity learned and absorbed

from working mother's of 7

whose familial deposits cascade over the sides of

these dainty shoes

and those tight skirts

that keep a running tab of her shared mitochondria

in the form of wider this.

droopier that

No sign of a struggle

Originally Published on 8/14/08, 10:00 AM

When I return home from work Bruce greets me in a manic explosion of joyous wailing, jumping, and kisses. I sometimes imagine him at home with his well used worry beads, licking them all day long. "Will she ever return? Where is she? How long has she been gone? Why can't I tell how long it's been?!"

I let him outside and he keeps an eye on me while he's marking this tree. I see him twitch his nose, look down at the ground and actually jump away as if screaming "What the f*&k is this?!" I walk over to investigate and there's this rat staring up at us. Bruce is by the front door at this point, he's abandoned me. Woman’s best friend my ass. Like any god (and rat) fearing American, I grab a stick and poke it. It's dead but it looks alive. I poke it a little more so I can see if it's missing any parts, or search for some cause of death. Bupkiss.

It looks young; around my age in rat years. So, old age shouldn't be the cause. I CSI the area and don't find anything suspicious that would have killed it so I'm forced to assume this rat is carrying some vicious plague and I'm now infected.

When my boyfriend comes over I hand him two grocery bags and point toward the rat. I figure if I'm going to die a gruesome death he's coming with me.

That's love.

He tossed the rat in the trash. In the subsequent days Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes both died. Sad coincidence? I think not.

Morning meanders on, or Attack of the Alliteration

Originally Published on 8/5/08, 10:04 AM

As I'm slopping crunchy bits into Bruce's bowl (and watching his drool drip onto the tile) my cell phone rings. I look at the caller ID, this time it's my boss.

"Heey Angela! Good morning!"

He sounds like he just woke up.

"Hey Schmark (tee hee) good morning."

"I'm running a little behind for the morning meeting, but I'm about to walk out the door, sorry about that. I think Schmandrew is running behind too. Has he talked to you this morning? He said he was going to call you..."

My boss, like Schmandrew, also likes to talk. A lot. Working with the two of them has had an interesting effect on me. I'm usually a very talkative outgoing person, especially at work. But getting so frustrated at their chitter chatter all day while I'm trying to work has pushed me to rebel in a most obvious way- I am quiet. I am very quiet. So much so that they think I'm shy.

Me. Shy.

All this quiet is probably the reason I started this blog. I'm not used to all this hushy hush stuff. I've got tons of crap to say.

"Well Schmark, if you've got all of those items to take care of before 9 a.m. it seems like we should cancel this meeting. Did you have agenda items for me?"

"Uh, uh yeahhh, well no. Not really. No. But, Andrew is almost there so I figure we can just all have coffee together."

"I don't live near Delight's Schmark, it's completely out of the way for me. If we aren't meeting I'll just go straight to the office now, and get an early start."

"Ok, ok, yeah, that's good. That sounds great. So, I'm looking at the calendar and you have me meeting with......"

He goes on for several minutes. At a certain point (3 minutes of silence later) he discovers I did not schedule that meeting. He discovers that I have no further information to give him. I discover later that not only did I not schedule that meeting, neither did he. It was wishful thinking, a permanent post-it on our exchange calendar for someone to schedule a meeting. I had to reschedule (schedule) it later.

I listen to him for a few more minutes then remind him he does not pay my cell phone bill and he laughs and we hang up.

I am very scattered this morning. I thought I was ahead of schedule only to find I was way behind schedule to only find out that I am in fact ahead of schedule once again.

I stop to get breakfast at Chick-fil-A. I have decided that because of my hectic morning I am allowed a reward in the form of chicken and coffee. I can only reward myself with things that start with C. Christian Chicken and Christian coffee. I have long been a lover of Chick-Fil-A and am always pissed off at them on Sunday, when I usually crave it.

Pissed or no, I have also admired them as a company. I know they get a lot of flack from liberal people my age for being a cult, touting Christianity in their work schedules, for not offering recycling (which I've actually written in about) but eh.

The woman in the drive through window has politely asked me for some money for all of my C items. I am searching for my credit card. Hmm...where the hell is it? I realize that I don't have enough cash, and can't find my credit card. I apologize and say, very crestfallen I might add, that I would have to cancel my order.

She says, "Don't worry about it, you can pay us later. I'll give you a receipt and you can bring it back and pay us another time."

Not even joking.

What other fast food place will spot you breakfast?? This day might actually shape into something memorable after all.

Has anyone ever heard of another company that will spot you if you forget your money?