Bossa Nova Baby

Kenny and I are working on getting ship-shape for our cruise next month. Which, by the way, is supposed to travel the course that Hurricane Dean is currently tracking. If Dean arrives in Haiti and Jamaica before we do, I'm not sure what will be left of the beautiful beaches next month, but I'm sure Royal Caribbean will take us somewhere pretty.

Anyway, I digress. We've been working out a bit and while at Wal*Mart today I purchased some 100-calorie snack packs to take to work, for that 3:00 break when the snack-attack strikes. Well, this is what 100-calories looks like. I have a quarter there next to the snacks to provide scale. Seriously, wow. Those are teensy! The picture on the box is misleading, they appear to be much more worthy snacks. Maybe they taste bigger.

Nothing says curl up under a blanket and watch mindless television like a drizzlie Sunday afternoon. I love these types of Sunday's almost as much as the beautiful 75 & Sunny Saturdays like the one we had yesterday. Both days require very different levels of participation. Yesterday was so beautiful, the need was felt to get out there and revel in the day; today requires no participation because of the consistent precipitation. It's a do-what-ya-want kinda day, and if you spend it couped up in the house or a dark movie theater, there is no associated guilt that you've squandered a beautiful day. I could, however, be doing more productive things around the house. Day's not over yet, perhaps it will happen.

I have a new cube-mate at work:

Found Ellen hanging out by the trash area at work. Who would want to toss out an Ellen standee when she is such good company to have hanging around?! I scooped her up and brought her to my cube. I should get a new nameplate for her and hang it underneath mine. Speaking of nameplates, Work is now doing some crazy money-spending thing with adding our photos to our nameplates. I would like to think that whoever comes up with this stuff has solid rationale behind it, but this is one that is just a huge waste of money. Now the AG Thief will know who they're stealing from, I guess. It's ideas like this one that makes me realize that there are dumber people than me in higher positions making stupid-ass decisions. I should give myself more credit.

What I'm about to admit to is somewhat embarrassing and shameful, but in the interest of truth in journalism ~tee hee~ I will give full disclosure: Monday night Kenny and I went to the American Idols concert sponsored by Pop Tarts at the Cleveland State Wolstein Center. We were just about the only 40ish-year old's there without a pack of 8-year old's in tow. There were a few others our age sans poptarts, but they were most likely weirdos of some sort. I mean, what 40-year old would go to an American Idols concert just because??? Weirdos! :)

The concert was really pretty good, but very long: 3 hours. That's a long night of Sanjaya and Haley "Leggs" Scarnato warbling some pitchy tunes. But there were some really good performances by my man Blake the Beatboxer. He can beat my box any time he wants. Whatever that means :) And Jordin was really great live, and even the bald dude was good, although that bald head combined with those large ears and floppsy hats casts an eerie resemblance to Fievel Mousekewitz.

Wednesday night Kenny and I went to his mother's for a quick supper with Kenny's old girlfriend Cheyenne and her family. Cheyenne is Michael's mom, the 15-year old who came up and visited earlier this summer. They still stay in very close touch with Linda and were up to do some clothes shopping for the new school year. Seems that the store selection is very limited in Bellaire, Ohio, with a Macy's that just opened, a Wal*Mart Supercenter and nothing else. Not even Kohl's. Her girls were very excited, because they get to go to school dressed in the latest fashions fresh from the stores at Parmatown Mall. Who knew that I lived in the heart of a fashion metropolis! We had a really fun night meeting them and chatting, with Cheyenne's husband Brock whipping up a pot of his signature Potato Soup. He's a chef in Bellaire. Not sure what they serve at that restaurant, but he should figure out a way to market his soup, because it is beyond fabulous. We're planning on going down in October for a day to see Michael perform with his marching band (Meggan, did that sentence spark fond memories for you??), and then of course we'll go to Wheeling for an evening of gaming fun.

Geri was having dinner with a group of girlfriends and the discussion of the Maloik came up and was the cause for great debate. Everyone had two cents to add to the conversation about how to ward off the evil eye, and one of the girls brought up that's why the Kaballah-believers wear a red string: keeps the evil eye off of you. You have to wear it on your left arm, because Evil approaches from the left. Did my fatass ex Fsteve approach me from the left?? Now that I think about it, he was sitting on my left when I met him. If I would have only had a Kaballah string, all forms of bad luck could have been avoided!

Luckily, I had a bag full of red yarn from my knitting era (never quite made it into the shape of a scarf, blanket or any other usable item), and I cut a piece off and strapped it on. It came off by Saturday, but I felt very protected on Friday night while we were in Erie having a spontaneous night of slot machine action. Kenny wore one, too, because I insisted. We ended up winning quite a bit, $600 on the dollar Wheel of Fortune, and we were both happy and now have all our faith resting on pieces of string.

Speaking of Faith, I am still trying to convince Timmy that we should start our own church, Burning Bush Ministries. The name is fun, cause it has "bush" in the title. We were driving past one of those homemade churches today on the way home from Wal*Mart (which some people think is a religious experience in itself), and it's housed in what used to be a movie theater on Brookpark Road. How holy is that??! They have services at 6:00 p.m. on Sunday, which would fit my schedule perfectly - I could never commit to an early-morning sermon. I even told Kenny that we could feature a weekly segment of Inspirations By Elvis - and make a sermon based on various songs. I could do couples-counseling to the tune of Suspicious Minds. You can't build your dreams on Suspicious Minds, Baby. And I could post crazy sayings each week on a Jesus Board, just like the church down the street! How fun would that be?? And I'd pass around my Longaberger Baskets as my "collection plate." Always trendy and in style. Scoff if you will, but L. Ron Hubbard made a religion based on science fiction and all of Hollywood has bought into that crap. Stranger things, is all I'm saying. I think we're on to something.

Wednesday afternoon I had an appointment with a new dermatologist, Dr. Dong. My boss said "good thing she's not a urologist." See, that name just incites 12-year old boy remarks from everyone - there's no way you can not make a comment about the name Dr. Dong!! Jill went to her many months ago and spoke highly of her, so I got the number and booked an appointment. Even with the co-pay, anything she can prescribe is much cheaper - and more effective - than anything I can buy over the counter. I've had some breakouts since I went off the pill, and have been paranoid about my freckles since some stupid young girl was trying to sell me foundation to cover my "age spots." Well, Dr. Dong informed me that they are indeed freckles and not hormonally inspired, and that I don't need to try and lighten them - it's just who I am. But she did prescribe some other pore-cleansing stuff that seems to be doing wonders. I seriously see a difference in 4 days. I even got carded at Erie when we went up there Friday night. Which is seriously crazy, I mean, I do look at least 30! At least :)

I'm off to ride my exercise bike for 38 minutes, that's about how long it takes to counter-act one of those 100-calorie snackpacks. I don't think that's a good tradeoff!

Peace, and if you get All Shook Up and Can't Help Falling In Love, That's Alright Mama, just Don't Be Cruel to a heart that's true or you could end up living at Heartbreak Hotel. See (See See Rider), I have my first couples-counseling sermon ready to go! Thank you, thank you very much.