Why would anyone want passable pizza and an attractive woman when a disc of grease and animatronic bears are to be had?

Chris's commentary on our favorite pizza joint vs. Chuck E. Cheese
It's true. Another anniversary of my birth has come and has gone. Chris took me out to lunch for my birthday. And by that I mean that we went to one of the two places we ever go and it was his turn to pay.

Our favorite pizza joint is close by. It has relatively good pizza. It has a really nice ass and decent boobs on parade fairly often. I can't remember her name, because I suck, but she knows us, she likes us, and she's hot.

While discussing options for my special day, I suggested the usual: "Pizza and hot chick". His response? "What? No Chuck E. Cheese?" Maybe I should have taken him up on it and gotten my ass kicked at Ms. PacMan while we were at it.

Turd-sucking bag of possum vomit

Dexter by Design by Jeff Lindsay
Ok, I just got around to listening to this. I'll say it's better than the last Dexter book but still not up to his first two. This line is shouted at Dexter and his sister, in Spanish, by a lewd, crude man in a wheelchair. When he winds down and starts calling Deborah things like bitch repeatedly, Dexter mocks him for his loss of creativity.

They taste like chickpeas...well lubricated chickpeas

Debi's Opinion of the 120 servings of Chickpea Salad

After services on Shabbat, my synagogue has kiddush. Essentially, it's an after-services lunch. Either, someone sponsors it in honor of an event (wedding, bat mitzvah, the Mariners made it to the World Series) or because they wanna. When that doesn't happen, the Shabbos Chefs get together and prep a nice little lunch.

All I wanted to do was make some bread. A specific bread. A 4-foot-long loaf of challah, specifically. For practice. For later. Not withstanding.

So, I was TRYING to coordinate with the person in charge that week so I wouldn't be stepping on her toes while I was trying to bake the challah that ate Cincinnati. She didn't realize it was her week. She'll be out of town. No worries, says I. I've been meaning to do kiddush for a while. I'll do it.

No one who knows me is surprised that I'd just randomly offer to cook for 180 people. What didn't occur to me is that planning during Passover (when you're also having 20 people over for 1st Seder)...well, it never happened. So Tuesday night, I'm busily trying to figure out what the hell I'm going to fix for 180 people so that the lovely head of the chef's committee can do all my bloody shopping for me. It's harder than it sounds to scale up a recipe from 6 servings to 180. No really.

One of my favorite side dishes is a little chickpea salad I like to make. Some chickpeas, green onion and a nice little vinaigrette. Uses hot sauce, so it's got a nice little kick.

Well, with 10 pounds of chickpeas, we made it in turns: flavorless, not quite so flavorless, too spicy for public consumption, better but not saying much. My last opinion was the title of this post. We decided soon after that to quit, let it marinate until Saturday morning, and then add 15 pounds of tomatoes. I actually think it will be quite nice after that. If not, lubricated is good after the season of our constipation.

Is it a classic because it's good or because English teachers assign it?

I recently picked up the first big Zombie Lit book Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. I got about 5 chapters in before deciding it might be funnier if I really knew what it was spoofing. Off I hied to the NetLibrary via my local library, and there downloaded all 11 hours of Pride and Prejudice. I have to say that aside from the strain induced by incredibly frequent eye rolls, it kept me engaged and entertained. So much so that I read The Scarlett Pimpernel and I'm about a chapter away from finishing Sense and Sensibility. While I can't say I understand why there are yearly conventions, I suppose the same can be said for many phenomena of my generation.

I had a hate/hate relationship with assigned reading. I don't know that I ever finished an assigned book unless we read it 100% in class. Cliff's Notes? A life saver. Since then, I've tried to go off and read some of them. Cannery Row, Hemmingway, Fitzgerald...I typically got about half a chapter in and never picked them up again. It's a bit easier with audio books. I'm not sure I'd have slogged through any of this stuff.

But who decides? Who decided Lord of the Flies was a "classic" and not just the product of a dude sitting down and thinking "How many symbols can I put in this book to drive sophomores NUTS in Mrs. Jones Advanced English?" I don't get it. Who likes some of this schlock? And if it DOES have merit, why waste it on hormone driven zombie freaks?

I dunno...I think I might pick up some Oscar Wilde next. I have the rest of Jane Austen waiting for me on my iPod. We'll see. Meanwhile, I'm taking suggestions for things that won't make me hate you.

Shakespeare was a prick

So earlier today, I made this my status on Facebook:
Debi is planning on suffering the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune next week. I've got a bit of time on the schedule.
Why did I do this? Well, it sounds like a cool thing to do, eh? Suffering outrageous fortune and all. Not as in money but as in "may you live in interesting times." Then I wondered "What does that mean?" Because anything his contemporary said in 3 words, Bill said in 20. Turns out it ain't so good. Huh.

Which doesn't so much lead to today's quote, but just sort of reinforces it. I hate Shakespeare. Mostly? Because he was a misogynistic schmuck. Well, and that's not even it. What REALLY peaves me is that his protagonists can get away with being the most god-awful bastards for 3 acts, make one little speech at the end, and everyone falls back in love with the dipshit. Not just the women. The men love him again, too.

I read Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet, Julius Ceasar, Hamlet (I think that was it), King Lear. I've seen Shakespeare on stage several times, including twice with the Royal Shakespeare Company. I've seen movies (though honestly, he's MUCH better suited to the stage). I even watched Shakespeare in Love, and Gwen? Seriously?

So I'm perhaps not the most eloquent hater of "the Greatest Writer in the English Language." But I don't get it. Really I don't.

It’s times like these when knowing what I’m doing would really come in handy

Dirty Jobs

Reality TV doesn’t really do it for me for the most part. But I think Reality TV is much more about the drama than the substance. As such, I don’t consider shows like Dirty Jobs and MythBusters to be reality, but they are entertaining. I think in this episode, Mike was busy in a locomotive factory.

I feel his pain on the knowing what he’s doing front. Home remodeling has been like that. For THAT, I put the blame SOLELY on Norm Abram and HGTV. They make everything look so friggin’ easy. And fun. And while it is fun, it’s a time sink. I can run lights in a house now…but it took me 8 hours to do it in the basement. I can drywall and mud and tape. But DAYUM it’s slow going. As First Crush has mentioned, I’ll be a PRO by the time we’re finished with the house. If he didn’t have a new baby, I’d import his used-to-drywall-and-paint-in-college ass from Australia to be my slave for a few weeks. Except he mentioned something about sexually molesting my refrigerator. Which might be even better, especially if I can get pictures.

So, I’m a homeowner (or more like a homeower) who sunk all her money into the home and the electrical. And is damned lucky to have been able to do it in the middle of a crap market. And it’s fun. But no, unless you are my gay boyfriends, I am NOT coming to help you with drywall.

What’s the lingo for when someone slaps you with a flip-flop?

L.L. Cool J on NCIS: Los Angeles

Mike and I LOVE NCIS. Honestly? One of the finest ensemble casts in television. When I just stopped to think about other great casts, M*A*S*H came to mind. Friends. I mean, there are other shows where there are lots of good parts of the cast, but none of the actors NCIS are anything other than a part of an extremely good cast. Even Abby is “just” part of the cast, even if Mike and I would leave one another if she wanted either of us.

NCIS – Los Angeles. First, I don’t know why it’s called NCIS. They don’t really investigate much in the way of Navy stuff. It all seems to be higher level national security. It feels like their just trading on the NCIS name, but whatever. It’s growing on us. This line is delivered by LL Cool J after the geek of the team explains about “friending” on Facebook for those in his audience that didn’t understand the “lingo”.

Truly, the best part of this show is Linda Hunt as Hettie. Hettie is the head of the LA office, by way of the most colorful life imaginable. She alludes to times on movie sets, affairs with stars, and her favorite car still being part of the road in Monte Carlo. She’s an odd choice, and could not be more fun. Like I said, it’s growing on us.

That doesn’t even sound as fun as Yahtzee

Overheard at my aunt and uncle's house
I was in Boston last week. I went up early to spend time with a dear friend from college, and in turn, we went to New Hampshire to see my aunt and uncle at their weekend house. My aunt loves games, and so we were looking through the options to see what we would play. Somehow, a twee little bunko set came to be at the house. With no directions. In pink. So, like any net-savvy person, I googled directions. It was a little odd, but it seemed to involve having multiple tables, and the highest scores from each table coming together to play each other. I didn’t get very far through my description before this comment. And he was totally right. So we played cribbage. Which is more fun than Yahtzee, especially when you’re aunt comes from a 40 point deficient and loses by 2 points.

I’m so cold you could Zamboni my ass

Very Valentine by Adriana Trigiani
Seriously? It is friggin' cold in this house. We haven't gotten the heating quite figured out around here. Our temporary bedroom is above the furnace, so even though it doesn't feel hot in our room when we get into bed, two hours in, we're sweating like it's Florida. Which only makes you colder, burrow under MORE blankets and sweat more. We own non-flannel sheets. I could guess 3 or 4 boxes they MIGHT be in. If I'm lucky.

I already have serious issues regulating foot temperature at night. I sleep with up to 3 pairs of socks in bed with me. Start out with the thick ones. Move to the thin ones. Realize they're not quite warm enough and upgrade to the middle thickness. Move back to the thin ones. It's a nightmare. If I were smart, I'd find my hot water bottle again, because you can always distance yourself from it, and eventually kick it off the bed.

I actually went to Macy's on Saturday night and bought non-flannel sheets. 600 thread count on clearance with an extra 20% off since it was Wear Red weekend and I happened to show up in a red fleece. Don't ask me.

It helped. Sort of. It's even colder when we climb into bed. Last night, I got up an hour after falling asleep to put on pajama bottoms. Then at some point, peeled them off.

This morning? Freezing in my office. Can't run a heater and my computers in this room. Maybe should have run a bigger circuit to the room, but what did I know? Considering running another circuit to the room. A bit beyond my abilities, but so was most electrical stuff before I did it. We'll see.

Never pass up an opportunity to ride a good greased goat

Fellow PM in response to a predicted cluster

There's a term in the project world called "Goat Rodeo". It speaks to, well, the majority of corporate life in a lot of places. Everyone's running around wanting things yesterday, and they can't have them because they didn't do what they needed to do to make it happen.

For instance, when I have to arrange to have some sites updated, you actually need to TELL me that you'd like me to handle it. I used to have a vision problem: If I saw a problem I made it my own. I don't have this problem so much anymore. Frankly, it's no longer my job to go begging for MORE work I don't have time for, even if I know at some point it will probably bite me in the ass. It will bite me in the ass LATER unlike the things that are waiting on my plate to devour me now.

Second, 36 hours is not an appropriate amount of time to do updates for a site that require us to get prior approval. In fact, they tend get pretty pissy with us when we just randomly go in and start changing their setup without them saying "Why yes, we'd LOVE to have you do that for us." Ask me how I know this. I have found that big accounts tend to give you a break when you're ACTUALLY down on your knees when you make that apology call. Even if they can't see it, there's something about the position that helps your voice convey that "for the love of G-D don't yell at my CEO about this" sense of urgency and about-to-piss-oneself fear. In all fairness, when I screw up that big? I tell my boss, his boss and the account manager in micro-seconds. Which MIGHT be why they've got my back.

Third, when I email you and said "I've never been involved with this, so I need more info or the name of who has handled it in the past," you should be prepared to give me one or both. It makes it easier for me to perform miracles. I do pull off miracles. Make me want to pull one off for you.

Finally, I accept several forms of thank you gifts, dark chocolate being my favorite. And if you're going to tell me I rock? Tell my boss. He knows, but he likes it when other people know, too. Just revere me like the rock star I am, and I will make you look good. Ciao!

You know EVERYTHING...except...

One of my gay boyfriends tells this story about his mother. She patently denies it, but I'm going to attribute it to her anyway, because frankly? It sounds just like her.

Jeanie was at a bridge party and one of her table mates was a blowhard. Knew everything about everything. Well, Jeanie, not one to suffer fools finally turned to him and said "Between the two of us, we know everything." The man looked at her quizzically. She said "You know everything except that you're an asshole, and I know that."

Seriously? I can't believe no one ever said that about me. My mom claims "I know everything, just not all at the same time." I'm right there with her!

Billy Idol got a Michael Jackson nose job??

I saw him for the first time on December 30, 2009. In front of Starbucks. As I was walking to my car. Billy Idol. In an 80s miniskirt, leggings, 6-inch wedge platform shoes and a leather jacket. Not pretty. Needed SERIOUS makeup lessons. Even from Mary Kay.

No, it wasn't the REAL Billy Idol. And I don't take pictures with my phone (except to document the insane amount of crap I write on the boss's white board), so I was NOT prepared to whip mine out. And he didn't look like he'd be willing to pose for a fan picture. But seriously? Yikes.

I saw him again today. A little better look at his face. Of course, first I saw the black over-the-knees boots...but I didn't see anything else. Because his nose caught my eye. And by nose, I mean a little-bitty-used-to-be-a-nose. Like Michael Jackson. And it's not like you can get that nose in one surgery. Or at birth.

It's not my first brush with celebrities in drag. I did see the woman version of Joey Ramone at Whole Foods a couple of years ago. Seriously made the REAL Joey Ramone look downright sexy.

Anyway, maybe next time I'll strike up a conversation. I really am wondering WTF happened when he recorded this.

Where are those Con-Mints when you need them?

A mailing list I belong to is having a discussion about "Dragon Breath". The person who brought it up pointed out that it doesn't take much for her to be nauseous for hours after a particularly bad encounter.

Someone suggested Vicks Vapo-rub. Perhaps a change of clothes and a bath. Then our favorite Seattle Cop suggested a cigar, before she went on to describe some of the biohazards she encounters from time to time. So for some ODD reason, I brought up this recollection.

Once upon a time, I worked for a venerable gaming company called Wizards of the Coast. Yep, it's true. In fact, they're the ones responsible for starting me on the path to the computer professional I am today. Now my boss knows who to blame thank. I started after Magic: The Gathering became a world-wide phenomenon, but while it was still HOT! HOT! HOT! Yep, I was the coolest thing ANY boy under the age of 16 had EVER met.

We had a fun director of customer something or another. At the time, Starbucks had just released a mint that truly would combat coffee breath. It's main ingredient may have been some component of Agent Orange. Much stronger than Altoids. Anyway, he called them "Con-Mints". Because if you ate them consistently enough at conventions filled with the target demographic of Magic, you wouldn't actually smell them.

I thought he was kidding. I was wrong. One year, we held the World Championships at the corporate headquarters. These boys? STANKY!!! Woof. And one of my fondest memories of my time at WotC? The clip-on air fresheners clipped to every HVAC vent in the building. Not sure it helped, but it sure as hell didn't hurt.

Come to think of it, I worked with the guys who created these little gems. Not quite Con-Mint strength, but sugar-free AND caffeinated. Perhaps there was a small niche market that was missed?

Human salvation lies in the hands of the creatively maladjusted

Seriously? Martin Luther King, Junior spoke about me? A nice Jewish girl from a distinguished lower Alabama white trash background? Where we didn't have gay people? And I still heard things like "Salt and Pepper don't mix" from friends? He talked about me before I was even born? Huh.

I'd like to think I'm "creatively maladjusted". While I understand those I grew up with, I don't agree with them. I don't think them less intelligent...though I do feel like they don't listen to their rhetoric before they speak it. Of course, I can name just as many bleeding hearts who do the same. I like to challenge those I grew up with. Their reality is different from mine, though I suspect we're closer than our words would indicate. Of course, I'm the girl who asked her uncle what he'd do if I came home and announced I was gay. He'd told an anti-gay joke. Boy...talk about an uncomfortable family silence!!

What would MLK have done if he hadn't been made a martyr? And Malcolm X? And RFK? What would have been undone if George Wallace had become a martyr?

These weren't perfect people. King had mistresses. Malcolm was an ex-con. Kennedy? Well, he was a Kennedy AND a Joseph P.'s son. George Wallace paid a price for his views and recanted. Whether not he was sincere is pretty much between him and his maker.

I can't fathom what the world looked like even in the year I was born, 1971. While racism was alive and well in my childhood, there was no hitting or spitting or lynching. Amongst my school peers, I don't even remember it being a hard segregation. That wasn't true in the 60s. When American fought American over whether or not someone was inferior due to something beyond their control. Sad to see the hatred hasn't faded, just been re-focused for the most part.

I go back to Garth Brooks. I know. One day, maybe not in my lifetime, We Shall Be Free.

News Flash: Debi Sucks at Calm

For reasons that I shall no go into now, I am trying to be more calm. True, my theory has always been that lack of stress makes me tense, but still. I'm trying to lower the amount of cortisol racing around in my system. If it's catching? Several people are getting stressed off the fumes.

And seriously? The damned air card just ate my GD post. It died and now, the post is gone. I want somebodies head on a platter.

Well, as my friend Elaine just said: "you do tense hysterically". Damned right I do.

Don't Piss Me off...I have SOOOOOO many places to hide the bodies!

Things are going well at Rottenfield Manor. I swear I have a huge number of pictures to post...I'm not sure where my camera is, but I could probably find it. They're going well when it doesn't involve outside forces. This starts with the City of Seattle.

We spent a lot of money with an electrician, and one of the things we did was move the service from the street to the front of the house. Seattle City Light has its act SO together, that I MAY get it switched by next week when I originally inquired on the 17th of December. I have power, but the upshot is that Comcast can't run cable to our house until the service is switched because they have to ground to the new service (this house never had cable run to it). This means no internet and no phone. And I work from home 3 days a week. Now? I work from Barnes & Nobles three days a week:)

So, I checked out an AT&T Aircard from work for when I'm not at a hotspot. Go to install it? It disabled my keyboard and mouse. No kidding. Had to hook up to my docking station (after digging it out of some box). Ok, uninstalling didn't work, so LUCKILY I know enough to do a system restore. Hied off to B&N to use their wifi (and spent 2 hours on chat with Comcast trying to get access to my in-limbo VM). Tried to reinstall the aircard this morning, same thing. Accessed it through my dock, got the keyboard re-enabled followed by BSOD. No, seriously. Rebooted, Aircard starts throwing errors. Finally, after the umpteenth restart, the aircard seems to be playing nicely with the keyboard and mouse. Turns out it's a known issue with my model of computer...*sigh*

Monday started with someone at job who complained about me to someone at the corporate office. You know, one of those folks who I work with and have a very good relationship with...and our closest common boss is probably the CEO. Anyway, he was complaining that I wasn't responding quickly enough to his "simple" request for a report that was ANYTHING but simple. That he requested at the end of the year. When I was planning and executing an upgrade for 500 clients. Mandated by the federal government. That always happens at the end of December. And I took a week of vacation between Christmas and New Years in order to move. I was available to manage the aforementioned upgrade. He said the 5th of January was FINE.

I understand that I'm his sole resource for these numbers. What he apparently fails to understand that if he has an issue with me, he is WELCOME to consult with my boss or my director. And that when I forward the email string, he'll be ignored. And that he's now on the naughty list of the person he reported me to. That controls all our data systems. Sucks to be him, now. My final satisfaction came when my director said "The data Debi said wasn't in the system isn't in the system. You can come see me about it." Heh.

For those that don't know, Rottenfield Manor boasts and enormous amount of storage space. And a ravine in back. I'm not entirely sure there aren't already bodies in said ravine. Hopefully, by the time we clean it out, they'll have all decomposed. I WILL hide your body there. Seriously. Don't screw with me. I hold a grudge.

Calling Dr. Gorgeous

Saturday night in the shower, I happened upon a (as Eddie Izzard would describe it) a big f*ck-off lump. Not your average clogged pore, your average golf ball sized invader that hurts like hell. Between my legs. In that spot between the girl parts and where both buttocks meet. I showed mom and Mike in a pose that is often seen in the pages of Hustler. Mom said “You should call your doctor, that looks like a boil.” Useful suggestion at 9 pm on a Saturday night.

So, I called my doctor at 8:40 on Monday morning, and got an appointment for 9:50. Just enough time to get some tea, right? Well, I ended up being the tiniest smidgen late just because it was full-contact parking day. Doc took one look at it and said "I'm going to give you some antibiotics."

Um, didn’t come here for antibiotics. I came here to have the invader cut off my body. “Can't I have it drained?!?!?!?!" Apparently, most folks go pale at the suggestion, so she doesn’t make it. She said she’d see if Surgery could fit me in.

Um, surgery??? Yeah, apparently this isn't a little poke, it requires a scalpel. Off to surgery where they ushered me into a nice little room within about 5 minutes. A very nice older PA came into the room. Followed not by a medical assistant or a kindly nurse. Followed by SUPER-HOT resident. You know, the popular guy in high school you either wanted to be or date? Because he was SO nice and SOOOOOO hot?? Yep, he’s here to learn from my boil. Yay. I’m happy to help train the next generation of medical professionals.

I’m given one of those teeny-tiny robes, which was at LEAST enough to almost cover by butt in the back. And give me the highly sought after Brittany Spears look if I crawl out of a low slung car in it. I climb up on the not-so-comfy exam table on my tummy to wait for the inevitable re-entrance of kindly PA and SUPER-HOT. Apparently, I was exposing more skin than the PA was comfie with, because he used another gown to cover up my legs so I “wouldn’t feel so exposed”. Yep, bare legs are what have me feeling exposed. They return and there’s not a whole lot I can do in these situations besides crack jokes and laugh. Except when he shot me up with a whole bottle of lidocaine. That hurt, so I did some DEEP BREATHING. I think some of the office paint took flight and is still lodged in my lower left sinus. He sent me off with a prescription for Vicodin to match the prescription for antibiotics my doc had given me.

I was FINE for several hours. Lidocaine? GOOD STUFF MAYNARD. Then? Wore off. And pain commenced. MUCH more pain than when the invader and I had been one. Vicodin is reserved for EXTREME circumstances because I’m mildly allergic to it. So, I endured the pain. And endured. I emailed boss man and said that between a big infection, and not exactly being able to sit, I was going home and going to bed. His sole comment? “Yikes!”

So, today, Thursday, it’s finally feeling better. Mostly. I bought a foam pad to sit on (they don’t call them hemorrhoid donuts anymore). It worked until today when it started to make my coccyx hurt.

So there you go…hope you find joy and meaning in my festering boil. Happy New Year!

This is my daughter for whom I would gladly return to prison

Quote from First Crush

My first crush and his lovely wife had a baby yesterday. In honor of that, I sent him a quote that I'd seen on Facebook:

Guns dont kill people Daddies with pretty Daughters Do

He sent me this in return. But not before he sent me the news that little Penelope had joined the world:

Mum and bub are beautiful and healthy. Dad is healthy

It's fun having long lost folks back in your life. Between Facebook and Google, I've found just about everyone I ever wondered about. There's a few folks I've still not "found". Chris Thornton for instance (in case he ever ego-surfs). Heather Harris for another, though I think I can find out about her through my sister-in-law. Six degrees and all. Oh! And Dan Watola who first dubbed me Debineezer.

Anyway, I have lots of things collected up from all these weeks of silence. I'll get 'em in here soon.

It's amazing how much fun you have with a gift card and a brick

Luann, 12/13/09

I got nothin' on this one. I blame the new Rottenfield Manor. I'm tired, tired, tired. But this is funny.

Contemplating which of the 7 deadly sins to take on next

What I Did for Love by Susan Elizabeth Phillips

I admit it...I like books with no redeeming mental value. I don't always read complete crap, but it's a good break. Personally? I'm thinking of taking up sloth for a while.