You're Not Cool Even If Your Nine Year-Old Says Otherwise

Crocs. What comes to mind?

Here are things that come to my mind:

- NO
- HAHAHA
- Oh, Jesus.
- Put those away
- Do you get blisters?

Here is what I do NOT think of:

Imagine how shocked and appalled I was to see a well-groomed 40 year-old man in a suit get off the bus wearing... CROCS. Are you understanding me? A nice black suit, with CROCS on!!!!
I hung my head, took a moment, and counted my blessings. I was never raised to think such fashion disasters were acceptable.

Let's all take a moment and bow our heads...

You Win, You Always Do...

The bear-shaped honey bottle and I had yet another stand-off today. When the jar was full of honey, all was right in the world. But as more and more honey is consumed, it take 3 hours to get anything out of the bottle, and then it the cap gets glued shut, etc etc.

The delay in honey coming out of the jar causes much impatience on my part, and as a result I do a lot of angry shaking of the bear.

Apparently the bear had enough, and today he retaliated. He got so mad the top of his head exploded off, and there is now honey in my keyboard. I attempted to wipe it up with a kleenex- which was probably the dumbest thing I've done (today).

The honey proceeded to get thinner from the heat of the computer and melted quicker in the cracks of the keys. The bear had it's way with me. I surrender. I wave my white flag.

Honey Bear: You win, You always do...

War casualties: Space bar, Alt key and Ctrl key.

I'm Watching You Watching Me

Get this: There is a bathroom scale in the women's bathroom in my new office space. Does this scream "eating-disorder-waiting-to-happen" to anyone else? I can feel it's beady eyes on me every time I go into the bathroom. I refuse to give it any attention (ie: stand on it) but I know someday I'll give in.

It now makes sense why the new neighbors are all skinny bitches that never eat (except the lady that looks like Phyllis -- she eats -- a lot).

Sigh.

Boss's Advice: Don't Be a Slut

You read it right. My boss gave me this advice today. But, let's take a moment and put this all in context.

I had a first date last night, and my boss overheard us talking about it. So she came up to me later and said "sooooooooo how was the date?" I was feeling overly forthcoming, and I answered with "well, it went really well, well I thought it went well -- but he wasn't very affectionate so I'm not sure if he was feelin it (Seriously I dont know why I shared this)."

Her response (WARNING: If you have small children nearby, don't let them read this):

Well, don't be such a slut.

Me: ______________ (no words)

Her: (clearly noting my shock) You know that episode on Sex and the City where Carrie says "Are we all sluts?" Because Aidan won't have sex with her in season 3 when they started dating... and she asked him why... and he said because he was trying to be romantic about dating her....

Me: Oh, well, yeah. I do remember, but... I think this is different.

Her: Well. That's my only advice - don't be a slut.

PS: I'm Alive

Trusty Readers,

I have to apologize for scaring you all with post about my made-up encounter with death. What I thought was funny and "One Sassy Chica-dramatic" was perceived by others to be disturbing and, well, just not that funny. As such, I think it's important to let you all know:

I AM ALIVE!!!!!!!

I vow to never write a similar post unless I'm actually dying.

Please accept my apologies, and let me remain as your fearless blogging leader.

Loud Breathers Bother Me

I recently moved desks, and now sit across from a loud breather. A loud breather can do one or all of the following:

a) Many heavy heavy sighs like every 3 minutes

b) Breathing through the nose constantly -- and so loud that it can easily be mistaken for a snore

c) Eat loudly- This isn't just loud chewing - this is inhaling loudly through the mouth and nose while taking in a giant sandwich. And then doing cardio exercises out the nostrils while chewing.

This lady is driving me nuts. I know it's petty, but there is NEVER silence because she's always breathing. I know I know -- breathing is normal and encouraged, but not when it sounds like THAT. In addition she is on the phone ALL DAY talking about her kids and husband, all of whom seemingly have very bad genetics:

-son has diabetes and she checks up on him every thirty minutes (keep in mind this woman is definitely over 50 which means her son is some poor 30yr old who has his mom calling saying "check your sugar" constantly)

-daughter has chronic diarrhea (which I have heard all the details about). She talks about consistency and everything. Holy shit its disgusting (no pun intended)

-husband might need a kidney. he has ANOTHER (that's how she says it) appointment with the urologist tomorrow. She has been calling people all day leaving messages saying "I have some bad news about Dwayne. Well, I'll likely have bad news tomorrow after his appointment."

The only cool think about her: She looks like Phyllis on The Office.

Really: What is a Ninja?

I never really thought a lot about what a ninja is. I grew up with the ninja turtles, and it seemed pretty self-explanatory. But then I saw the following picture, and my thought was "Wait, he's a ninja? If he's a ninja, then I've seen THOUSANDS of other ninjas."

Wait. I'm pretty sure that makes me a ninja, too.

Uh ?

Death, Is That You?

The grim reaper is after me. I don't know why god hates me so much, but he has sentenced me to die by giving me this disease. I don't know what I have, but from what I've researched, I assume it's something life-threatening like SARS.

Let me tell you why it's particularly strange that I'm dying now:

Approximately two nights ago I had a very disturbing dream. In the dream my dad was half dead. He was technically dead, but was to appear alive until the next day when he was to officially look dead to all the mortals. Yeah, trippy. So my dad gave me the insider death 411 and told me that I would die suddenly on my birthday and I had 10 days to live.

Troubled, I decided to make the most of what was left of my life, so I told my dad I would quit my job and travel for the next ten days."

In true dad fashion, he forbade it and said "NO once you start something you have to finish it." And so I took his advice and went to work everyday until I died. Stupid.

So when I awoke, I said WHOA I would never keep working if I knew I was dying. But here I am, on my deathbed, and I still type away with the only strength I have left, and no trip to Fiji is scheduled.

Please remember all the good things about me and forget all the bad. And then make me sound really great at my funeral by saying bold statements like "Anyone that ever met Trish was forever changed..." You know, shit like that so I sound really important once I'm dead.

I'm glad I got to know all of you...

Drinking Out of a Vase: The New Pimp Cup

Alert: I am really really sick. "Want-to-die" sick. "I'd rather be George Bush's Mistress Than be This Sick" sick. You get it? Ok. So because I'm so miserable I've been taking a gazillion Nyquils a night. The problem is that when I get to work I'm still basically sleeping.

This became apparent to my office today when I was walking around drinking water out of a vase. I honest to god had no clue it was a vase. I just thought it was a really big glass. So as I'm pouring water into my mouth (no sipping with this bad boy) my co-worker says: "Dude. You should really go home."

Me: (eyes still crusted shut, basically drooling out of the side of my mouth and rocking side to side) Why?

Her: Well, first of all, you look like that (referencing my sleepy state), but also you're drinking out of a vase.

Me: What are you talking about

Her: LOOK! YOU'RE DRINKING OUT OF A VASE

Me: (looking at the "glass") Really?

Her: YES

Me: Shit. I should go home.

Ok. So, while drinking out of a vase was a "mistake" it still is a pretty funny idea. I think I may start a trend...

I Want My Starbucks Back

As I've explained in previous posts, I like some structure in my life, especially my mornings. 9 a.m. is way too early for me to be forward-thinking, and I don't want any surprises. Before my english muffin/peanut butter/banana breakfast I go to Starbucks -- where it's always safe and the SAME.

Imagine the rude awakening I received when I went to Starbucks on Monday morning: Starbucks changed their branding (at least on their packaging)! I was so distraught I asked two baristas whether this was temporary (like holiday cups), or if it was a overall logo/brand change. Neither of them knew. The uncertainty of what tomorrow's Starbucks trip brings has shot my week to shit.

Moral of the story: Branding is one powerful beast.

Minnesota Comes West

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Alright, I've been holding back from posting these thoughts for a while, but I just can't keep it a secret any longer. My parents came to visit me from rural Minnesota, and let me tell you, it never gets any easier.

The incesant questions (why is that guy and his buddy holding hands? do you think that homeless guy is a murderer? how do you buy groceries if there are no parking lots?) tend to wear on me as the days go on.

My parents as sweet as they are, have a tendancy to offend others with their comments. One particular example took place at frat boy bar on a Saturday night. I assure you we went there against my will, as I knew what was about to ensue:

Background: WE were are Shanghai Kelley's when a theme party (Golf Pros, Tennis Hos) filtered into the bar.

Dad: Why are those guys dressed gay? (he pauses, realizing his error in speech) Eh, I mean... why are they dressed like that?

Me: Oh they are dressed up for theme thing. It's called GOlf Pros Tennis Hos

Dad: Tennis WHAT???

Me; HOS

(Meanwhile, young unsuspecting 20 something walks by in a tennis skirt and visor)

Dad: Hey!! I know what you are -- You're a HO!!! (He says it with wide grin thinking he is bonding with the youngsters at the bar -- and that he's hip enough to know their gig)

Girl: Politely smiles.

Girl's Drunk and Aggressive Friend: WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!?!

Me: No no no. It's ok, really, he's from Minnesota.

Girl and Girl's Drunk and Aggressive Friend: Look at eachother, nod, then head into the bathroom.

Must I really share any more stories to further illustrate my point?

The Smoke Alarm That Cried Wolf

My fire alarm is a lying bastard. There. I said it. Whether I'm making a pizza in the oven, boiling water on the stove, or even pouring cereal into a bowl the damn smoke alarm goes off that has a scream more disturbing than Howard Dean's. That's all.

A Call For Structure

While the blog has been getting rave reviews, the citizens of the blogosphere have called for more structure. English muffins one day, John Mark Karr the next, then herpes and olympian crushes -- the inconsistency seems to make people feel unsure about what they are signing up for each day. People like routine and unfortunately my blog knows no such thing.

If only I were more like Stalin (see picture above), I'd be a bit more rigid and rule this blog with an iron fist, instead I drift in and out of rationale thoughts.

I've taken the last three days off from blogging to clear my head, and try to think of some helpful or even newsworthy information I can bring to the general public.

I've come up with nothing. I have no relevant knowledge to share with the world -- only my rambling thoughts.

Please accept my apologies,
One Sassy Chica

Jamba Juice a Shout-Out to Jambi??

Does anyone else find it strange that Jamba sounds just like Jambi? Well I do. I think it's pretty F'ing crazy. For those of you out there who are drawing a blank, let me refresh your old decrepit memory: Jambi was the genie on Pee Wee Herman's Playhouse. Ok, got it? Good, let's move on.

Now, I've never been one for conspiracy theories (lie), but I think we may have one on our hands here. Pee Wee Herman's Playhouse and the magical character Jambi (Mekaleka Hi Meka Hiney Ho) were around long before the birth of Jamba Juice. So what was the owner trying to tell us with his name and logo that resembles a genie coming out of a bottle? I think I know the truth.

Could it BE that the owner of Jamba Juice also owns syndication rights to the one-time hit show and Pee Wee franchise (agree with me)?? The owner is casting subliminal messages onto the unsuspecting public in hopes that we'll demand more Pee Wee and he will make more money.

Makes sense? Right? If you think "no" still say yes to my face or I"ll immediately judge you and call you stupid (behind your back).

So the next time you walk by a Jamba Juice store and a get a craving for a Razzmatazz just remember -- what you're supposed to be craving is more Cowboy Curtis, Chairry, Globey, Randy, the King of Cartoons and, of course, Jambi.

Mekaleka Hi Meka Hiney Ho

Where in the world is John Mark Karr?

Remember this guy? Man alive, he was reeeaaallly somethin'! So ... what ever happened to him? Can someone just claim to sexually assault and murder a six year old, be taken into custody, and have police say "no you didn't?" Done and done. That's it? End of story?

Well, basically. All charges were dropped and the only update on this junkbag is that in July he was arrested and jailed when he was involved in a domestic argument between himself, his girlfriend and his father. He was charged with battery and obstruction and released.

Here's my most burning question: who is crazy and desperate enough to date him?? If you guessed Tara Reid, that was my first guess too. But no, it's not her.

Junkiest April Fools Joke Ever

Junky Alert: what you are about to read is something really junky

Story:

My friend, who we shall call Sally, was casually dating this guy about a month ago (we shall call him Hardy) -- Since then they have stopped seeing eachother on his terms. So today she's minding her business when she gets a text from him out of the blue (they have not corresponded in a month) and he says: We need to talk.

Sally texts back: Just call me.

(he doesn't)

Sally texts: I'm freaking out.

Hardy texts: I just found out I have herpes. You should probably get tested.

Sally: FREAKS OUT. Pretty much jumps off the Golden Gate Bridge because her life, as she knows it, is over.

Hardy: Texts her a while later: April Fools.

Sally: Is trying to figure out her alibi for tonight around 10 p.m.

Ew

So, let me say the intent of this blog is not to talk about my breakfast selections... but I just need to tell the world (aka my five readers) to steer clear of Thomas' 100 Calorie English Muffins.

I'm a girl that likes some routine in her life. Every morning I come in to work and make a wheat english muffin with peanut butter and bananas on top. Well, being the fool that I am, I messed with routine and was suckered into Thomas' marketing ploy and saw their 100 calorie packaging. I thought - man alive, I'm putting some major calories on with the peanut butter, might as well take some calories away with the muffin part.I made a bad bad bad decision. Junkiest thing I've ever tasted. Best case scenario: Tastes like 3 week old stale bread. Worst case scenario: Tastes like piece of garbage.

Heed warning (dramatic pause) : Low calorie english muffins are an act of satan.