Wedding contest entry

I don't really mind being on mailing lists. I'm in marketing myself, it's part of my trade.

Lately I've been entering so many wedding contests I simply have to be on every wedding mailing list in South East Michigan. I am about to enter another. This is a essay contest and one lucky couple is going to win the opportunity to get married in the local mall. (Not the ritzy mall - the other one...) The casual reader might question why I would enter such a contest, as I have a baker and rentals lined up for trades. Well, the "exciting" part of this contest is the lump of money the sponsors are going to fork over for ancillary products and services. If I win I will have to endure a circus wedding in the center court of the other mall - but I will also be able to afford a couple of nice wedding bands, luggage, a spa day and a tux for the fella. Hell, I can always have the real wedding as planned - this will just be the rehearsal.

Bring on the junk mail - I'll use it to stoke my fireplace.

Hello? Is this thing on?

Hello. This report coming to you from deep within a vodka martini and pamprin induced state.

A quick update for my own posterity:

1. We now have a rental company securely on the line for the wedding. For one webpage and hosting we get the works - linens, tables, chairs, chargers, goblets and everything else. The catering and flowers are on deck for a website trade. We had a planning meeting today, hence the vodka. This is really becoming the white wedding I've never imagined. I feel more or less ambivalent about the plan for the enormous party that is taking shape - it's the ridiculous amount of effort required that I regret.

2. The evil twins have forgiven me for the rubber claw covers. Not to say, however, they have learned to appreciate blunt talons. I've been reapplying one claw per evening on average. They chew them off you see, I hear them working their claws at night. I hear them ripping at them with their teeth. Unsettling.

3. {deleted}

4. Last night I had the most delicious meal of my life. Forgive me, I've never had a five course meal before. First: Hummus dollop and toast chip. Second: Mushroom bric with almond butter sauce. Third: Emily's Salad. Fourth: Squash Ravioli, polenta, and some other type sauce. Desert: Delish date tartlet. The server brought one tiny roll between every course - we lavishly spread house churned butter on them. My wine glass never went dry and I'm not sure who refilled it. The adorable, pink cheeked busboy made me feel like a dirty old lady. All the busboys were 17 years old and thin enough to look good in pleated pants. Yummy. And as a bonus, truffles with the check. Happy 50th anniversary Art and Joyce. Wow, what a milestone.

5. Darling Dori, sorry I missed your 26th birthday party. God, are we getting old or what?

6. Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind – a comment. Moving. Balled over it for too long – the characters were a little too close for comfort. The effect was something reminiscent of looking into the eyes in the mirror while drunk. Or tripping. Just a little too much.

7. Mother, are you enjoying the Florida weather? The Midwestern clouds have dumped a foot of snow on our metro area. I’m looking forward to seeing you next month.

8. You know sometimes I get so flushed, it’s interesting. Do your palms ever itch?

9. Fortune for today: One white chicklet. Three green, two yellow, two pink, one orange.

10. Now to put my Christmas gift to good use. Twin Peaks the series, vodka martini, and a hot fire.

Mysterious sound

This afternoon, in the course of my job, I made a phone call to a website registrar office. The woman I was talking to seemed like a very normal person. Her voice was like any other, her breathing sounded normal and casual. There was no reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary.

She was telling me where to look on my screen, and as I was listening I heard a faint mechanical “VEEP-VEEP” noise coming from the phone. It was so strange that I didn’t say anything for a moment.

“Hello?” she asked to see if I was still there.
“Yes...” I said and tried to recover, “Um. The hyperlinks, yes I see them.”
“Ok, scroll down further and you will see (VEEEEEP…VEEP-VEEP) the log-in box.”
“Ah...ah-ha. Ok.” And while I pretended to follow her through the steps, I was actually listening for clues to what this robot noise might be.

At first I thought it was possibly her mechanical arms that she was using to type – but I had to conclude that this wasn’t the case. I listened very intensely and heard the clicking of keystrokes which sounded very much like my own human-arm clicking.

Then I thought it could be a state-of-the-art desk chair – one that rises out of the floor and automatically adjusts the arm height and lumbar support for ultimate ergonomic comfort. Something that would make constant, minute adjustments as one shifted in the seat. But hey, this is a domain name company – not Star Treck. I eliminated this theory.

It just boggles me. What kind of high-tech mechanical instrument could make a “VEEP” noise at the godforsaken help desk anyway? I was tempted to ask at the very source, but it really isn’t any of my business. I was worried that it was some kind of personal assistive device which would prove me rude to ask about. So instead I’m just relating it on a public journal.


Any ideas?

A 25¢ fortune

I am not a religious person. If someone asks, I tell them I am an atheist to watch them squirm – most people squirm here in the Midwest at the thought of a godless person. (To make themselves feel more at ease, individuals have told me that I wasn’t an atheist, but more likely an agnostic. This is untrue, agnostics are the worst cowards.)

I’m not religious but I am unfalteringly superstitious. I throw pennies in fountains and salt over my shoulder. I have a horseshoe and I read my future in chicklets.

How might one read the future from a handful of colorful gum?

Red denotes love
Pink is for romance (sex)
Orange is wellbeing
Yellow is happiness
Green indicates money
White is the most important because it is the comparison color

If the number of any one color is greater than the number of white chicklets, you can expect an increase in that area. If the number is less than the number of white, expect a decrease. Equal numbers of color and white chicklets indicates no change.

For instance, my fortune:

One pink and one green. I'm not going to get a raise or get laid.
Happiness is uncharacteristically high, and apparently I am loved.


The Fiancé:

Just one red and one pink. I guess I am pretty mad at him. Happiness and cash flow are stagnant. But whoa, look at the wellbeing in that future!

Gracias por el HTML, Papí

Yay! I have a recommended reading list for the blogs I check all the time. I have a slight compulsion for checking blogs - it's embarrassing to admit.

I wanted to change the HTML on my template to make it a slightly less cookie-cutter but I don't know what I am doing. I know about as much HTML as I know Spanish and in both cases this consists of tiny scraps I remember from high school and bits absorbed from popular culture.

1. Hello
2. My name is
3. One more beer please.
4. Hey Daddy!
5. How do you say....?
6. Let's go!
7. Library
8. Desk
9. Book
10. Pencil

Thus, making structural changes to a webpage depends mostly on luck and the trial-and-error method...much like trying to find a bathroom in a foreign country. After mucking with the template and getting very frustrated I went to the in-house authority on the subject. Enter stage right: The Programming Brawler. He was more than happy to give me the correct HTML tags and help me find where to place them in the template. How kind! After which he began to review some of my recent posts. He found my New Years Eve post mildly amusing:

Noir: Darling, do you think I'm a tart?
Fella: (Apathetic affirmative grunting) Um-hum.
Noir: (Shocked exclamation) You do? Does it upset you? Are you angry with me?
Fella: Nah, I don't care. It might give me a reason to pick a fight with someone.

Another way to make your cat HATE you.

I did a little experiment tonight, and wow - my cats are pissed!

I ordered these little rubber lee-press-on-claws for the evil twins in an attempt to curb the constant destruction and shredding that is so prevalent in my home.

The directions clearly indicate that trimming and super gluing rubber covers to your cats claws should be a simple task. Uh huh. The directions actually say: "Soft Paws Application is Simple!" and there is a happily smiling cat having it's claws trimmed in the illustration.

Just an FYI, in real life it doesn’t work like that.

Handsome Mr. Pitt

The boy told me that at the New Years party he attended, he chatted with someone who claimed to have met Brad Pitt’s father. According to the story, Mr. Pitt Senior raised a wealthy family with his shipping business, Pitt trucking, and the father is even more handsome than his son. The tail goes, Brad could have had an easy time following in the family business but was allowed to go to Hollywood to become an actor.

I don’t believe it. I mean, come on…handsomer than Brad Pitt? Pishaw.

New Years in less than 350 words

Wonderful. Wonderful. I had a wonderful time. I love New Years. Below is the order of events as I remember. Time is estimated.

7:00 The host and hostess look divine

7:30 Champaign, watercress sandwiches and shrimp cocktail are consumed

8:00 We read aloud from America (the book) by John Stuart

8:15 Our sides ache

8:30 I switch to vodka and demonstrate how to make a “Dirty Martini”

9:00 Where are all the other guests?

9:30 Oh, there they are.

10:00 Libations are consumed

10:30 One, two, three rounds of improv

11:00 I tell an unfamiliar Dave that he is “dangerous” – more vodka

11:30 I try on someone else’s knee high leather moccasins. I make others try them on too.

12:00 Streamers fly, toasts are raised, Auld Lang Syne is sung. Kissing, kissing, much kissing. The boy calls me, and we share a romantic moment. My memory gets a little fuzzy after this.

12:30 I dance to Frank Sinatra – more vodka

1:00 My shoes are off, I’m cuddling with the hostess on the couch and a fella I’ve never met before is rubbing my feet. The fella’s wife stops by to kiss the hostess (I get kissed too). Somehow I am not uncomfortable in the least.

1:30 An embarrassing incident occurs involving the kitchen sink

2:00 I knock my martini glass over the rail – I recover it undamaged. More vodka.

2:30 A game of “Spin the bottle” is begun. I kiss the black haired girl, and bite the lip of that other fella. Somehow I am not uncomfortable in the least.

3:00 Kind partygoers begin to exit, additional kissing

3:30 Dave turns out to be dangerous indeed. He kisses the hostess, kisses me and leaves. Somehow I am not uncomfortable in the least.

4:00 I put on the sleeping mask and go to bed, satisfied with yet another magical New Years. The one day of the year I can drink, dance and get away with kissing everyone in the room.