No Joke, I Met Someone Who Didn't Know What A Koozie Is.

A while back, I started to examining my blog. Many blogs I read have a weekly/monthly item. Lindonian has her cocktails and MODG has her Friday confessions. I have noticed a pattern in my writing, and it has to do with Mo's. I have previously defined "Mo", but it was so embedded in a rant, I can hardly blame someone for missing it. Therefore, my personal periodical of choice will we be titled, "Mo is for Moron". I have already written a few installments, but from now on, I'll try to have a little more structure.

Koozies. A delightful contraption designed to keep your beer cold, and your hand warm. I realize not everyone is me, and not everyone has one on them or in their car at all times, I do not judge you. I myself am a "comfort" person. I like having a warm hand. The Mo for the day is a yankee residing in South Florida. Let's call him Teddy. I'm sure you are assuming that I chose to respect his privacy and keep his name a secret, but no. His name is in fact Teddy, and he is a Mo. 

While I myself was living in Florida, I was constantly under ridicule for my little neoprene friend. His clever retort was always the same, "Well, I drink my beer fast enough that it doesn't get warm". I of course followed with, "Ya, and what about your hand, dumbass." Teddy: "Oh, right, uhhh...". But the whole thing started with him asking, "what's that?", or, "what do you call that beer thing again?" Really? Beer thing?

Now compare that with the 30 minute conversation I had with my cousin about koozie design. For his ranch weekend, he is making koozies instead of the traditional t-shirt. It was my job to edit his wording, pick a font, add a decal, scale down the Lonesome Dove quote, an make it all fit on a koozie. Once I had done that, I sent it to him to verify and the 30 minute gchat ensued. What about this? Why not move that there? Should we put a date? And on and on. So today, I emailed him again, after we had already finalized the plans. A new idea had formed. I send it off to gain approval. Approval was of course given, for I am a design genius. In addition, I was forwarded another email, from a third party, who my cousin had asked to review our plans. I put his ideas into action. So let's see, my mother handed the project off to me. Kay Ann will be doing the ordering. I was in charge of design, and Ben and John handled the final product. I'm just saying, we take our koozies seriously. I hope the boys of Ranch Weekend 2010 appreciate them as much as we do.

People Who Are Just Asking To Be Lied Too

When the topic of "what celebrity do I look like" comes up, I cringe. It is just one of those moments where something bad could be said. This topic came to mind because a recent FB chain popped up.

 "During this week change your profile picture to someone famous (actor, musician, athlete) you have been told you look like. Lets keep this fun going...post this to your profile and see who does it!"

Ok. Personally, not big into the whole chain status thing, but if I was I would still skip this one. I say that because the girl's profile I found this on changed her pic to Giselle Bündchen. Give me a fucking break. I'm not saying this girl is unattractive, I'm just saying that who in there right mind would want to be compared to Giselle. The woman is a goddess. A) you don't look like her. B) if you think you do, get glasses. C) we all know you are just waiting for us to say "OMG you sooo do." Bite me.

 

And what if your friend looks like someone unattractive. They don't necessarily need to be unattractive, but you could see them as an unattractive cousin. Do you think said person is going to like this compliment. Probably not.

Or there are people like me who look like no one, so we get told we look like everyone. I take the compliment, say thank you, and go on with my life. But never do I think, "they were right. I do look like Julia Roberts". Because I don't. 

 

 Now, there are those friends who do look like attractive celebrities, and you are able to tell them so truthfully ( J-Money, you know who you are). I am not saying you should hold in such a compliment, but do make sure it is a compliment. It can be a dangerous topic of conversation.

And, If you feel strongly that I do in fact look like someone famous, I will not reprimand you for telling me. Just make sure it's not someone crappy.

 

The Gambino

It is babysitting time in my world, and I am babysitting one crazy 6 month old. And at over 75lbs, one incredibly large 6 moth old. I would like to pretend for just a moment that at least one of you was fooled into thinking I was talking about a real child and not a great dane, but I doubt it. I went on a run, woo hoo (meaning I actually was able to keep a promise to myself). Now we will be eating dinner and watching crap TV because Momma can't stop us. Also, I just stopped him from eating a stick, who eats sticks?? I like to spoil my godson.

Let Me Tell You About My Saturday Morning or There Are Some Mo's In H-town

This Saturday, I went to a class pertaining to my job. It was a mandatory orientation class but I was hopeful that I would be able to apply things I learned to the real world. Wrong-o. I am all for "bettering" myself and taking time to learn about my job, but this was ridiculous. Now, I can't divulge to many details, because the woman who ran the show made it clear she googles herself on a daily basis and I'd rather not start something unpleasant. We'll just call her Ash.

The room was had about 50 people in it of all ages, but at 24, I was definitely the low end. The class was about getting your name out there, and using websites and other tools to their maximum potential. Instead of asking us, have you heard of Facebook, she would say, "just FB me". I of course understood, but not everyone uses abbreviations to the extent of our generation. And yes most people know what FB means, or what Facebook us. But there were 60 year old men in this class, so let's give them a break. After she said it, she would pause, find the blank faces and say..."Do you not know what FB is? Facebook? Oh I have to show you." Every time. And yes, FB is well known, but she used it for at least 20 different websites. And every time, she would wait until someone had a blank face so she could "inform" us, the wait for the oohs and ahhs from the crowd. 

To add insult to injury were the jokes. Geez lady. She would say sentences, that were not in fact jokes, but would emphasize them in such a way that people laughed, I assumed out of politeness. You aren't funny. But somehow, they KEPT laughing. I couldn't believe it. I thought it would be us vs. her, but no, I was all alone in my cynicism.

She also kept saying "did ya get that? did ya get that?" Um yes lady, I heard the words you just said and understood the meaning. I swear she said it 75 times. Or after her "jokes", she would say "just saying". I am a user of just saying but she abused it to an inch of its life. Just sayin'.

I know I'm not doing this woman justice, I wish I had a recording, because I know I sound like some hyper critical, mean person. And I am. But I'm telling you, this woman could be a drinking game. Now on a weird, not so annoying just interesting point, we saw about 7 different pictures of her. All of them were different. She is in a business where you have a lot of head shots. One for twitter, one for Facebook, one for your business cards, other websites. Yadda yadda yadda. Now when I say different, ai don't mean backgrounds, I mean it looked like different people. The woman standing in front of me and the woman on her business card looked nothing alike. Then her Facebook picture appeared to be of a woman 15 years older. And she was decent looking in person, so I didn't understand why all her pictures of so funky. 

I guess this blog can be filed under the no patience heading.

Victorious Yet Again

So, I had a couple of victories this week. Small yet significant. I think we all know how I feel about Lonesome Dove, so I won't go into that, but I will say that it confuses me how someone could not like it. And by confuse I mean 100% don't understand. I know many people who have never read or seen it. That is "fine". I also understand thinking you won't like it for varying reasons (length, it's a western, it was made in '89). But once you have seen it and claim to not like it, then you are just being stubborn. Moving on.

Kate is one of the many people who refused to watch it with me. Too long. But Kate has a weakness. Pralines. So for my first victory, I tackled the sickeningly sweet desert, and voila. A trade was made, 2 hours of LD if I was to make pralines. Only one problem. I have heard pralines are difficult to make. I was afraid, and rightly so, that if I came to the viewing with sub par pralines, her end would not be upheld. With the prospect of a convert on my hands, I was able to pull off some very impressive sugary pecan clusters. They. Were. Good.

Second victory. Lonesome Dove is 4, 1.5 hour parts. Kate was not very optimistic. Honestly I don't think she thought I would follow through, jokes on her. After part one was over, I automatically started part 2. After that we took a break to prep dinner. Part 3 was watched while eating dinner. At around 9:00 we made the decision, "why stop there?". Onto part  4. Seriously. We watched the WHOLE thing. It was awesome. Her mom and sister came in for varying parts. Momma knew the story, but Sally was lost. She happened to come in during one of the more, shall we say, moving moments, and was quite confused as to why I was crying so profusely. Gets me every time. When the show ended, Kate said she loved it, and wanted to go read it right away. It was great. Her words. So, with that as evidence, I implore even you strongest of naysayers to give into what could be some of the best hours of television you ever watch. Ever.

P.S. You'll notice that Tommy Lee Jones, Robert Duvall, and Diane Lane made the top 10 lists. All three were in LD. All three were awesome in it.

Running, Forrest Gump Style

Nothing like a marathon to get you thinking about your own running habits. If it's gonna be a marathon, it might as well be a cross country trek a la Gump. They are about as likely. So my Uncle Mark ran the Houston Marathon this weekend, at the age of 56. I watched him cross the finish line and my parents followed him most of the way.

 James, Dad, Uncle Mark

Now, never say never, but it is HIGHLY unlikely that you will ever catch me running a marathon. So with that in mind, let's start small. When I run, I do about a two mile stretch. Sometimes less, sometimes even less. But two miles. So for the first goal, it'll be a 5k. Nothing too difficult. To apply pressure to the situation, the family has volunteered me to run next year, in one of the 3 events. The full marathon(good joke), the half marathon(keep dreaming), or the 5k (bingo). A promise is a promise, and if my uncle can run 26, I can run 3. Having a year to run a 5k seems simple, and it is. But I would like to be in good enough shape that I can run it, with family watching, and not hang my head in shame. So this is the year of 5k's I've decided. My brother and father run them, so I know I'll have company. There, my goal is set (match).

The Ladies Of The T-Cove

So, I awoke this morning, with the sound of my mother chit chatting at the door. It was a voice I recognized as the one and only J Brant. Time to get up. The ladies of the TCGC were about to descend upon us. I had two options. Skedaddle. Or stay and help. I chose to stay. I was in charge of food prep. My mother in charge of checking every nook and cranny. Because of that bastard hurricane, we have recently had a remodel. Not extreme, but the house looks good. Many of the women haven't seen it since before, so this was its unveiling. 

Then J Brant came back bearing gifts. Nothing special really. Just a beautiful bouquet, she just whipped up from her own garden. That woman. Here I am microwaving and thawing frozen finger foods like its gourmet, and she comes in all mother nature. Love her, really I do, but it is frustrating to see someone do something you are totally not capable of. I mean, I'll never swim like Aaron Peirsol, but that's like godly ability. Common tasks and everyday things are more frustrating. Like when you follow someone recipe EXACTLY and it tastes fine, but not awesome. What is that?

Anyways, the lady who lunched, came and well, lunched. I had a jittery amount of coffee, shooed them out the door, and then off to work. Now, the coffee is wearing and I am hungry. What cures hunger and tiredness? Anybody got some crack?