Month: March 2010

Every now and again I get the privilege of hanging out in a lot of meetings with a lot of very interesting people. Some old, some middle-aged, some young, some conservative, some liberal, some women, most men.

The other day I had taken my favorite seat in the very back row of the room, near the door, when I was joined by an old friend and coworker. He is middle-aged, but I’ve known him for a while, hence the “old” part. With him, was a young, spunky chap.

Being that the meeting was as it normally is, late to start, slow to move and quick to end (hmmm, sound familiar anyone?), we were making jokes and having side conversations about some of the ongoings.

As a result, we were shhhhushed. Is that a word? No, because it shouldn’t be. Shhhhushing is so rude! Definitely one of my biggest pet peeves.

Surprisingly, we didn’t let that get in the way of our antics. As I continued to chat with these two gents, I familiarized them with my blog. One thing led to another and young, spunky chap and I discussed the idea of writing about him in the blog (as soon as I had a nickname for him).

He had two conditions: it has to be good and somewhat sexual. No problem. I am really looking forward to writing something good about me and Somewhat Sexual.

Last night inspired me and today all of my dreams are coming true. Cooking (translation: sitting on the chair watching) with D-Dog, Bird, Butternut Squash, Less is More and B-Crock has sparked a passion in me and, as a result, I have decided to cook my way through “101 Things to Do with Ramen Noodles.” With a title like that and ingredients such as warm noodles, drained beef, seasoning packet and water, this could get exciting.

I know many of you will be waiting, with savory anticipation, for me to discuss each new thing I’ve done with Ramen Noodles. I must be honest, you might be waiting a long time. First things first, I do not have the book yet and I do not have Top Ramen. I do, however, have one package of Maruchan Ramen Noodle Soup Chicken, water and kiwi. The ideas are endless.

For those of you who are wondering which wine I will pair with the noodles, well, I’m thinking Arbor Mist. Watch out Julie and Julia. B-Crock, thank you for instructing me to put my needs aside, don a proper frock, and provide my guests with the best noodle badoodle they’ve ever had.

Somehow, today totally slipped away from me. It started early, when I woke up around 3 AM, thinking there was an intruder in my house because of the strong aroma of green apple jolly ranchers. Before I had time to confront or question any intruders, I fell right back to sleep only to wake up three hours later and go to work.

12 hours later I was in the fabulous company of D-Dog, Bird, Butternut Squash and Less is More. We had originally intended to go out to dinner and changed our minds when Less is More teased us with the sweet smell of rotisserie chicken. Bird and Butternut Squash decided to make a steamed-baked-broiled brussel sprouts, which we paired with a stout beer bread.

While the boys were preparing the meal, D-Dog and I decided to do a little label karaoke. Butternut Squash could not help but get into the mix, busting out “Fermented with natural yeasts” like a pro!

Immediately after dinner, D-Dog had a craving for brownies, which sparked Bird’s craving for brownie and cookie dough batter. Butternut Squash found his place in the kitchen and began baking for us. The best part about the baking was reading the cook book. If you have not read or do not own “Betty Crocker’s New Picture Cook Book,” you must! The kitchen-know-how-to and succulently sassy sayings provided in the book are priceless! The book, however, is not – very pricey!

Later, while licking the beaters (Butternut Squash beat the batter on his own, even though the book recommended a second person to help beat), we talked about what luscious lives we lead. Especially being north of happy valley, where Butternut Squash was previously residing, living the dream, in a dream.

BC tip of the day: Dip-level-pour and, most importantly, stand erect.

Fru Fru Pants and I have the luxury of not working on Fridays, so we’ll often get together to appreciate this gift. This last Friday we decided to set hair appointments.

While at the salon, we saw a lot of bluehairs. You see, Friday is also known as shampoo set day. Now that I know this, my next hair appointment with Fru Fru Pants will be a shampoo set. Yes!

My stylist was a kind, young, single mom of two kids. As we discussed her family, she informed me her daughter was a girl and her son was a boy. I informed her those details are important.

I finished earlier than Fru Fru Pants, so I placed my new headband on my new do and headed over to chat with her. We started discussing my headband and I told her she really should have come to the headband party (www.navyperl.blogspot.com). She replied, “You know me and headband parties.” I don’t, actually, and neither does she. You see, Fru Fru Pants has never been to a headband party.

Later, after a lovely pampering, we headed to her house to enjoy Cahill wine (wine blog, wine blog). Right soon after, OregganO joined in the festivities. OregganO and I had plans to meet some new friends for lunch. We invited Fru Fru Pants to join us and she respectfully declined, “You know me and meeting new people.” No, we don’t.

Lunch proved to be entertaining, which was not a surprise. The new friends had loads of stories to share and they were not shy. OregganO is still talking about the lunch to this day (granted, it’s only been two days).

After lunch we went back to Fru Fru Pants’ house to see how the rest of her Friday was shaping up. She was in the middle of cleaning and had decided to make some changes in her kitchen, “You know me and valances.”

A while back my agency moved into a new building with loads of window offices, many of which sit empty. There were also loads of interior offices and work stations (new age word for cubicle).

I got an interior office with a dry erase board and immediately drew a window on my board (when life gives you chocolate cake…). Being that it was winter, I drew some snow, skiers and birds. As it started to warm up, I decided to spice things up a bit and drew a Peeping Tom.

One of my coworkers suggested I add some detail to the binoculars, so I asked him the brand he keeps in his car. Bushnell. I told him I just knew he was the stalking type and he told me he really liked that orange number I wore on the weekends.

A few days later coworker was back, again commenting on my window. I decided to change the name on the peepers shirt, just for him. Now I have a Peeping Duane (PD).

So PD and I are sitting next to each other at a really long meeting the other day and I’m telling him my laptop, which was rested on my lap, had not been working very well lately. The keyboard doesn’t always work, the battery doesn’t last and I don’t get the ‘insert an alternative power source’ message (which PD found amusing), until seconds before it dies. “It’s jut a piece of shit,” I told PD.

He advised me it was because of the way I talked to it. I pointed out to him that I let it sit on my lap, for hours at times, and sometimes I rub it. His response? “Lucky computer, but still.”

Yesterday I was searching through my contact list for someone’s phone number. Someone whose name I could not recall.

As I slowly browsed from A-Z, I realized I have a lot of contacts in my phone – many of whom I don’t know (or recognize).

Example: “Paul,” followed by “Paul-bar.” Good thing I made that distinction.

I decided to do something similar to what Papa J and I did two summers after high school graduation. Call people. Papa J and I were reading through our yearbooks one slow summer evening and found a lot of people had offered up a “call me – let’s hang out” note; usually right after “stay cute and cool.”

We figured we had stayed cute and cool, so they probably still wanted us to call them and hang out. Papa J and I quickly learned many of the yearbook notes (with the exception of “Bob was here”) were not sincere.

Anyway, I started calling “Paul,” “Another one,” “Erdman,” “Giselle,” ALL CAPS JENNY,” and others, and came to the quick realization that I really don’t know these people. More importantly, I never did find the name of the person I had initially set out to contact. If you are that person, could you please call me?

I can tell Spring is approaching because I wake up sneezing, one allergy induced sneeze after the other. I like to call it sneezures.

I arrive at work with my allergies in full bloom and am quickly reminded my employer, in an attempt to demonstrate cost efficiencies, no longer buys tissue for employees.

As I am walking to the making room room to grab surrogate tissue, aka toilet paper, I start thinking about this “cost efficiency.”

In all of my years of employment I have never seen a coworker’s ass, ever. Yet I see my coworkers’ noses every day.

If my coworker doesn’t wipe well, or at all, I have no idea. If however, my coworker has a drifter the size of Kansas hanging out of his/her nose, and doesn’t have a tissue to take care of it, everybody knows.

I thought about bringing this to management’s attention, however I fear it will result in B.Y.O.T.P. efficiencies.

Instead, I think I’ll just send them a thank you for the toilet seat covers, “Courtesy of the management for your protection.” So thoughtful. I definitely don’t want my ass directly touching something another coworker’s ass has touched. I’ll save that special moment for couples yoga.

My office has been promoting health and wellness lately and, to make it easier for staff to be healthy and well, they offer a variety of classes throughout the day.

In an attempt to quasi-complete my Chinese New Year’s resolution, I have been talking about healthy activities with others. Last year, my coworker, ROFL, started taking some of the yoga classes offered in the building. After a few sessions, he dropped out.

I asked why and he stated, “Maybe it was the couples yoga.” I was intrigued by his response, because I, too, might be a bit turned off by couples yoga with some of my coworkers. ROFL went on to tell me he was nearing the end of the ‘single person’ yoga class when the instructor announced they should partner up for some quick couples yoga.

Apparently another coworker quickly ran up to ROFLing to partner up. It started simply, with the back-to-back breathing exercises and quickly moved on to boat pose and “in the mood” statements, “Feel your partner’s warmth,” from the instructor.

Child pose was next. ROFL began glancing around the room, watching other ‘couples’ assume the pose. His mind, body, muscles, boundaries and spirituality were stretched to the max – the boat pose, in which “our bare feet were touching” nearly did him in. His ‘partner’ looked at him and told him, “I can’t do that, my back won’t take it.” ROFL told me, “Those were saving words! My soul couldn’t take it. After that, I never went again.”

Fru Fru Pants and I “regularly” workout (today I burned 38 calories) in the gym of a very important agency in which the staff do very important things (that was for you CounterCat:).

In this agency, the men clearly outnumber the women. So, when we (Fru Fru Pants and I) are in the dressing room we are almost always alone.

One afternoon we were changing into our workout gear when I turned around to see Fru Fru Pants’ backside. She was naked, with the exception of her frilly fullbacks and a saucy pair of heels.

At first glance, she looked like she might be in the entertainment industry. I started laughing and told her all she needed now was a pole and pasties (a must have in this town). She turned around and I was quickly reminded she already had pasties.

You see, a few weeks prior she had surgery and was still wearing bandaids (aka, surgical pasties). “I was wrong,” I told her. “Looks like you only need the pole. Now on stage: Fru Fru Pants.”