Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Good Dental Hygiene

Guess who was using a push-pin as a toothpick when her supervisor came up to her desk...

I'm classy like that.

Thursday, November 27, 2008

Happy Thanksgiving!

Things I am thankful for:
-Kraft macaroni & cheese
-my dogs
-having a job
-my friends
-my family (most of the time)
-Christian Bale
-my health
-vacation days
-the Arrested Development marathon on G4

Things I am not thankful for:
-the cat's litter box
-my broken tv
-having to go to work
-my neighbors
-extended family drama
-Angelina Jolie
-having too much work and not enough money to actually take a vacation
-Lifetime movie marathons (oh, who am I kidding? I'm thankful for those too)

Enjoy your turkey, everyone!

Tuesday, July 15, 2008

I would make an awesome private investigator.

...or stalker.

Tuesday, July 1, 2008

Tales from D.C.

This past weekend, I traveled to Washington, D.C. with my supervisor/good friend for a business meeting. Since the “business” aspect of the trip would be over by early Saturday afternoon, we decided to extend our trip until Sunday night.

I’ve only been to D.C. once and it was for a total of 6 hours three years ago. That trip consisted of us walking along the National Mall and looking at the exteriors of the museums, Capitol Building, & Washington Monument. We did stop into the Aeronautical Museum and eat at a fantastic Mexican Restaurant (that has since closed), but it was a brief and uneventful outing. I was excited to spend some more time checking out the city and nightlife since my previous experience had been somewhat dull (made worse by my companion at the time, I’m sure).

I’ll spare you the touristy details of our sightseeing, and instead share the exciting, funny, and just plain bizarre highlights:

-There was a woman on our flight, 2 rows up, wearing burgundy satin formal gloves up to her elbows. Like the type girls wore with their prom dresses in 1993. Her pants and top were black. Her shoes were fuchsia. And she wore these out-of-place, clashing gloves throughout the entire flight and shuttle ride to the baggage claim.

-While walking next to the National Mall, I heard a noise across the street and saw a full trashcan land on the ground. I looked between the trees and saw a man walking away from the trashcan. I then saw him kick over a road barricade, yell some fighting words to an invisible person, and then kick over another barricade and yell some more fighting words. We walked faster.

-We went to the Sculpture Garden across from the National Archives for some sangria. It was approximately 7 pm and the park was filled with drunken 20- & 30-somethings falling over into the flowerbeds. Then 2 guys waded in the fountain until security kicked them out.

-As we were concluding our business meeting at Barnes & Noble, 5 kids started a step/hip-hop dance performance in between some shelves. There was clapping, stomping, and something about “positivity”, but I was preoccupied with taking a picture with my camera phone at the absurdity of the dance-outbreak to pay attention.

-At the White House, I waved wildly to the sniper on top of the roof. After 10 seconds, he waved back. He’s probably not supposed to do that.

-At the Smithsonian, I took a bunch of pictures of stuff that I barely care about. Thank God for digital cameras.

-The Hope Diamond looks an awful lot like the Titanic necklace.*

-Also at the Smithsonian, we went into the Butterfly Tunnel. Before entering, the guide went over the rules with a group of about 10 of us. She stared directly at me when she said “Do not touch the butterflies. We are all adults here and should be able to follow this rule.” I think she can read minds because that was the first item on my agenda for when I entered the tunnel.

-Butterflies in flight are impossible to take photos of with a $130 digital camera. This did not stop me from trying. Eighty five times.**


-I consulted with the most D.C.-familiar person I know for fun stuff to do on Saturday night. After researching her suggestions and reading this story, there was no question that Adams Morgan was our destination.

-At The Reef, we scored a prime seat right next to the window looking down on 18th St. Immediately below us, I saw a guy with what appeared to be underwear on his head struggling to sit up straight. His friend had white cloth tied around his head and his white shirt had a big red circle in the center like the flag of Japan. Karate Kid #1 kept falling backwards and Karate Kid #2 had to keep pulling him back into a sitting position. We had been watching this for about 10 minutes when a guy in a kilt (complete with loafers and knee socks) walks over to them with the biggest slices of pizza I’ve ever seen. Now with a full belly, KK1 tried to stand up only to slump into one of the parked cars. KK2 grabbed KK1 around the waist and stood on the curb for another good 20 minutes. A VW Beetle pulled up, already with a loaded backseat, and KK2 sits in the front passenger seat, crams KK1 onto his lap, and leans KK1’s head out the window and they drive off.

-Also at The Reef, 2 nice young men came over to see what we were giggling about. The Johns Hopkins eye-disease research student and his friend who works for the government in some confusing capacity I still haven’t been able to discern told us about their jobs. Johns Hopkins and I quickly bonded over our shared nerdy love of Jeopardy. I told him that if they ever do a team version of Jeopardy, he could be my teammate.*** They then took us over to a neighboring bar where we all had JELLO SHOTS! Due to my status of no-longer-a-college-student-but-not-yet-an-adult, I haven’t had a Jello shot in at least 4 years. But Jello is zero points so I was not going to argue.

-At some point during the night, we met Tim from Fresno. Johns Hopkins and I convinced him that we had been married for 8 years. Johns Hopkins told him that since I hated baseball, he was considering leaving me. Tim from Fresno said that was not a good reason for divorce. Thanks, Tim from Fresno. I don’t think my make-believe husband who I have known for an hour should divorce me either.

-The four of us decided we wanted pizza and when Johns Hopkins saw the line of 40 kajillion people, he marched right past them up to the counter and got our pizza. In that moment, he was the HOTTEST MAN EVER. Even though I ended up not eating any of the pizza.

-The bars were closing and we weren’t ready to call it a night, yadda yadda yadda, we saw a deer and I don’t think it was really his apartment.

-The bus drivers in D.C. are crazy with a capital “9”

-Lunch in Georgetown is not as cheap as McDonalds. I could have bought 9 Happy Meals instead, but McDonalds doesn’t serve Chardonnay.

-It doesn’t matter if Orlando has a Gap, J.Crew, Ann Taylor Loft, or Banana Republic; if it came from Georgetown, it is automatically 16 times as fabulous.

-I bought something from a store called “Annie Creamcheese.” I have gone up 3 cool points in my own head.

-I think our cab driver was making up stories about his wealth on the drive back to our hotel.

-We missed our first Metro train back to the airport shuttle because we were too busy talking to a girl about WAKA kickball leagues and got distracted. I think we might join one.

-The United guy scolded us for entering in the “Exit” side of the check-in-ropes-maze even though there were no other customers in line and we couldn’t find the entrance.

-I don’t think my seatmates appreciated my giant quesadilla and its noisy bag and container. I don’t think my diet was too pleased either.

This was one of my best trips ever. I saw Washington, D.C. in a new light and if I had a fortune, I would totally live there.

*I want something from the Hooker jewelry collection.
**Leave a comment if you would like me to send you blurry shots of butterflies in flight.
***This mostly benefits me because he’s way smarter. But I do kick ass at the wordplay categories.

Monday, June 23, 2008

Shannon: injuring your babies since yesterday

I came to my sister's rescue yesterday morning when she was short a volunteer in the church nursery. It's been a while, but having spent over 10 years of my life caring for other people's children, I thought I was fairly comfortable handling infants.

Apparently, I've lost some of my knowledge about babies. Like, what they can do at certain ages.

So there I was. I was holding a (3-4 mo. old) baby who looked more like a mini- Jabba-the-Hut with his sextuple chin (seriously, half the kid's body weight was distributed in his face). Another baby requested my attention so I figured: "I'll put this little marshmallow man in this Exersaucer contraption while I tend to this little grublet." As soon as I put Stay-Puff in the seat, BAM- his head lobbed forward.

One- I don't blame you for not being able to hold up your own giant head, baby.

Two- Boy, am I rusty on this whole childcare thing.

Thank God my reflexes were quick because otherwise, he would be sporting the imprint of a barnyard animal on his mega-sized forehead today.

On a related note, does anyone need a babysitter for evenings or weekends? It appears as though I need the practice.

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Song Review: Damaged by Danity Kane

Can you fix my h-e-a-r-t?
Cause it's d-a-m-a-g-e-d?

Can you fix my h-e-a-r-t?

Tell me are you up for the challenge
Cause my heart is

Damaged, damaged

Damaged, damaged

I thought that I should let you know
That my heart is Damaged, damaged
So damaged (so damaged)
And you can blame the one before
So how you gonna fix it, fix it, fix it?

Apparently, this song is becoming somewhat of an anthem for many females. It's even been in Billboard's Top 20 for 13 weeks now.

Really, girls?

First of all- Guys, if a girl came up to you with this message, wouldn't you run as fast as possible in the other direction? Hello Baggage! Would I ask a guy to fix my sink? yes. My air conditioner? yes. My dinner? Hell yes. But my heart? Only if he's a cardiac surgeon.

Secondly, everybody's heart is at least a little bit damaged after a relationship. This is why you take some time to HEAL! It's never a good idea to enter into a relationship all bitter and wounded. How is that a good start? If a guy I started dating told me his heart was damaged and then asked me "How are you going to fix it, fix it, fix it?" FIX IT YOURSELF. I've fixed mine more than once. It's not my responsibility to nurse you back to emotional stability after your ex.

This song is so not sending a good message. Obviously, the singer thinks she is completely blameless in the break-up since she so clearly wants to blame everything on "the one before." And when she brings all those issues into the next relationship, expecting the new guy to pick up all the pieces and "fix" her, she's going to wonder why that relationship doesn't work out either.

Bottom line(s):
  • Clean up your own mess.
  • Don't rush to move on if you're not ready to start fresh.
  • Don't make someone else responsible for your happiness.

Now fix me a sandwich.

Friday, June 13, 2008

I'm on a diet, y'all!

So I walked into my lunchtime meeting with a sugar-free Red Bull and a bag of Cheetos. Then I realized...

Oh My God, I am Britney Spears.

At least they were Baked Cheetos.

Must be the bird flu...

In the past 2 days, I have seen 3 bird fights. Seriously. In different locations.

All involved a tiny bird maniacally chasing and attacking a bird at least twice its size. I even saw one lose feathers in mid-air.


Friday, June 6, 2008

Public Service Announcement


Enough with the term "asshat" already. You are not creative or witty.

That is all.

Friday, May 30, 2008

A detailed and accurate look at my Thursday

7:00 am- get in the shower

7:20- get out of the shower

7:21-8:42- watch tv, dry hair, put on make-up, get dressed, check email, watch more tv, pack lunch, let dogs out, leave 12 minutes late

8:42-9:20- drive, alternate between screaming, swearing, singing along to the radio, and slamming on brake pedal, repeat

9:21-10:00- check email, write To-Do list, meet with supervisor

10:01-11:54- obsess over script for my meeting with supervisor's supervisor, attempt memorization, panic

11:55-12:39- attend weight loss meeting where I seem to be the most-motivated member even though I have the least amount of weight to lose

12:40-12:42- eat a banana- those scales measure each 1/10 of a pound. BODY, YOU CAN EAT SOMETHING NOW

12:42-2:20- obsess, panic, obsesspanic, send email to super-supervisor

2:20-4:15- obsess, panic, rehearse script so it doesn't sound like script, distract myself with mega-important gossip blog, panic, panic

4:16-4:43- charm the bejeezus out of super-supervisor, sweat like a fat kid

4:44-4:55- rehash meeting with supervisor, obsess, overanalyze

4:56- start doing my actual work


7:05-8:56- write, write, erase, rewrite, check email, obsessively check clock, write

8:57- 8:58- proofread, save, submit and upload work to server, HOLY CRAP IT'S 9 PM! leave work

9:02-9:35- drive, sing along to my iPod, honk once

9:36-10:04- scarf down BBQ turkey and baked potato, rehash meeting details with parents, steal spotlight from guest of honor, leave restaurant

10:05- panic when the cop beside me pulls in behind me and puts his lights on, breathe when he pulls to the other side of me and speeds off

10:10-10:34- check email, put on pajamas, get in bed, take Ambien, simultaneously read book and watch tv- paying close attention to neither


11:02- put book down, turn out light, pay attention to tv

11:02-12:32- watch tv

12:33- turn off tv, lie in darkness, try to fall asleep

12:38- feel bizarre bump on my hip, get out of bed, investigate in the bathroom

12:40- Google bizarre bump

12:44- give up, go back to bed

12:58 (approx)- fall asleep

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

Odd fact about Shannon #1

Shannon can remember how to get there, even if she's only been there once.

Wednesday, May 21, 2008

HRH Prince Max Power

If Max could speak, he would have a British accent. And win spelling bees.

Thursday, May 15, 2008


I have wholly inappropriate thoughts when I watch this video...

Sometimes, all I need are a few good spins in my office chair.

Also, a nap.

Wednesday, April 9, 2008

Nope, still not old

Well I survived my 28th birthday. Not only did I survive, I had a blast and celebrated like a 22 year old. I showed the world that 28 does not mean grown up or mature. It does not mean I am responsible or always make good decisions. Yes, I proved that a 28 year old still knows how to have fun and does not always know when to say "when." In your face, world! (and in your sink, Publix!)

The weather behaved itself splendidly in the morning. We set off for our three-hour tour like movie stars, mimosas in hand, laughing about everything from our childhoods to Erica's last experience on our boat (AKA Ralphie's conception). The dolphins were in hiding, no doubt hungover from a crazy Friday night on the ICW. Aside from nearly driving straight into a channel marker, the cruise was terrific. Lunch took entirely too long and the food was less-than-stellar, but the bathroom decor kept us entertained. The weather started its temper tantrum during the cruise back to the marina, so we let it tire itself out while we watched Superbad down in the cabin. Yep, definitely not a movie for grown-ups. My dedicated sorority sisters outlasted the others and joined me up at the bar for drinks, dessert, and to take pictures of me dancing with some old guy to "Play that Funky Music."


At 28 years and 2 days old, I woke up to sunny skies and thoughts of brunch. I picked up my two most dedicated party guests from their hotel and we began our 4-hour champagne-a-thon promptly at 10:30 am. The waitress made sure our glasses remained topped off long after Kenny G packed up his jazz flute and the food had been put away. Because 19 glasses of champagne each weren't enough, we moved our exclusive little party to the hot tub where we drank mixed drinks and slow-cooked ourselves for another three hours. I said farewell to my dear friends and stumbled back to the boat to nap while my patient parents packed everything up and loaded the car. When we stopped at Publix to pick up sub sandwiches, I shared my brunch and bubbly with the bathroom sink. I think it was grateful because it loves champagne but is not yet 21.

At 28 years and 3 days old, I woke up and realized that I still do the same stupid things that I did at 22. On my way to share some of Sunday's brunch and bubbly with my bathroom sink, I smiled because I knew that I'm still not old.

Monday, March 10, 2008

These are my confessions...

Well, it looks like I’m not the only person who was disappointed with Quarterlife. It was canceled after just one episode. Ouch!

But going back to my original complaint about the portrayal of a true quarter-life crisis- I’m doomed to turn 28 in a little over a month and I want time to slow down. I will be two years away from 30. At what point am I supposed to feel like a grown-up? I’ve lived on my own (well, not totally alone, but outside of my parents’ house) for the past 7 years, yet I'm still struggling between youth and adulthood. I’ve decided to lay it all out from my perspective.

TV 20-somethingsReal-life 20-somethings
They have fabulous jobs, with or without formal education. Even the ones with less-than-amazing careers always seem to make plenty of money.Myself and most of my peers have college degrees and either: have a job that does not require a degree (serving, retail, nanny), or have a job that still has them struggling to get by and living paycheck to paycheck- in both cases, they still don’t know what they want to do with their lives. We’re not attorneys, doctors, or executives. Yet.
They live in cute houses or chic apartments with coordinating furniture and great accent pieces. Their homes are virtually spotless.My furniture isn’t a match set from Ethan Allen. It’s mostly secondhand with a few newer pieces added to the mix along the way. Any artwork on my walls is handmade, and accent pieces are limited to melted, misshapen candles. My house is a disaster and I currently have no motivation to stop being a slob.
They never seem to be concerned with finances. They shop, wear designer clothes/shoes/purses, eat out, grab drinks, and travel without any mention of bills or a budget. One person in the group always has rich parents.
We can’t afford to do it all. If I want to travel, I’m going to have to cut expenses somewhere else- either my housing or my transportation. My cable will occasionally get shut off when I forget what day of the month it is. I’ll still have to eat some meals at my parents’ house because it’s free. While I’m there, I’ll probably do some shopping in their pantry, fridge, and cabinets. I may even ask them for gas money. Our parents aren’t rich, just parents.
They spend every weeknight out with friends.Many times, I would rather put on my pajamas and be in bed at 7:30 pm after work than meet up with friends. Getting to bed at a decent time is suddenly important now that I have to work the next day.
There is a deep pool of people to date. Casual sex is almost expected.It’s hard to meet new people when you work all the time and all of your friends start marrying off. I don’t know anyone running around town having one-night stands.
Guys brood and pine for the girls they really like. They write songs and books, and have numerous deep, meaningful discussions with their friends about those girls.
Yeah, right.

I understand that TV is all make-believe. They take great-looking people, make up great jobs, dress them from the wardrobe dept, build them a fancy apartment on-set, yadda yadda yadda; but would it really be so terrible to just once maybe try to resemble real life? Come on, show life how it really is for this age group. We don’t all live in LA, NYC, Boston, or Chicago. We don’t make $200,000 a year. We have to choose between J.Crew or car insurance, and most of the time we pay our car insurance and buy our clothes at Target or Old Navy instead. Designer clothes are simply out of the question. Show us that we're not the only ones going through this transition in our lives. Stop making me doubt my life by showing me an improbable lifestyle for an average 20-something. Be realistic.

Some additional confessions from my own life:
  • Most of my meals come out of the freezer.
  • I have no understanding of investments, 401ks, pensions, IRAs, CDs, or mutual funds. I know I should know, but I want someone else to just worry about this stuff for me.
  • I would rather watch tv shows about high school kids than anything on CNN.
  • Part of me is worried about the quantity of Christmas presents I’ll receive from my parents once I have kids.
So, there.

Tuesday, February 26, 2008

Must be a quarter-life crisis...

So, last night I DVRed a new show: Quarterlife. I have a hazy memory of seeing a commercial for this a few months ago. I'm always willing to give a new pilot a shot, especially if it looks like it deals with anyone close to my age, so when I saw it appear on my info-guide for Tuesday night, I decided to record it.

Apparently, this started as an internet show back in November and NBC decided to pick it up for television broadcast. But wait! It's not just some online-drama-turned-television-series; it's also a social networking site. The preview caught my eye because I feel like I'm in the middle of my own- as John Mayer put it- "quarter-life crisis." (Ok, and also because Scott Michael Foster from Greek was in it and I think he's cute)

I suspect it should have held onto its place on the interwebs.

At 27, I am stuck. This is not where I pictured myself at 27 when I was younger. I definitely assumed I would be more “grown up” at this point and more settled in my life.

In a lot of ways, I’m ok with where I am:
  • I’m glad I’m not stuck in a marriage to the wrong guy (and every guy up to this point would have been the wrong guy)
  • while I want kids someday, I’m glad I don’t have that responsibility right now because I have freedom, and I certainly couldn’t afford it
  • speaking of freedom, I have it- freedom to live where I want, freedom to find a new job when I get tired of not having enough money, freedom to chase whatever dreams I decide without having to consider a spouse or child or career, freedom to find out what makes me happy and make it happen.
On the down side:
  • I can’t make up my mind.
  • I don’t know what I want to do with my freedom.
  • I am afraid of wasting too much time trying to decide how to use my freedom and then it will be too late to get the family I want.
  • Do I want to just ride out the job I have now and see where it takes me? Do I want to go to law school like I promised myself I would? Do I want to pursue a better job or a different career entirely?
  • I am stalled in this sort of complacency. I have lofty goals and dreams, but I don’t actively pursue them.
  • Years are going by and I am not moving forward. I’m afraid of being stuck, but I’m just sitting down and being afraid of being stuck.
I have a strong feeling that I am not the only person my age dealing with these thoughts and fears. That’s why just the title of the show intrigued me.

The apparently lead character Dylan opens the show with her blogging by webcam. She is instantly annoying in that “I’m trying really hard to be quirky, insecure, and eccentric” kind of way. I already don’t like her. As she is introducing her roommates and friends, I realize that there is a flaw in casting. The two main guys are good-looking, great-looking even. Dylan is plain and even a bit goofy looking, her friend Lisa is just about average, but her friend Debra is who I am having the most trouble with. Dylan describes Debra as always having been popular. Ok fine, popular people aren’t always pretty, and pretty people aren’t always popular. But Debra looks so homely- skinny, stringy mousy brown hair, hunchy posture, and horrendous glasses- that I can’t believe this tidbit. Dylan goes on to say that Debra has been in a relationship with hottie #1 for years. I get that looks aren’t everything, but hottie #1 doesn’t act like the type to go for personality over beauty, and the discrepancy between the two is so great that it’s just not believable. It’s all made worse by the scenes with the two of them together. It’s awkward and there is an obvious lack of chemistry.

Moving on from the shallow aspects of my criticisms- the whole show was acted like people who are acting. Are you ever watching a commercial/show/movie and you just have this moment where you can tell that the actor is acting. I mean actually visualizing them reading these lines from a script and inserting the appropriate inflections, gestures, and expressions into the lines? I hate that. In a scene where Dylan goes to her boss’ boss about her ideas being stolen, her dialogue and movements are so awkward and unnatural that it was frustrating to watch. It was all overacted. She attempts to sit down but immediately stands up again, then sits, then stands, then sits, then perches on the edge of the chair before finally spitting out what she wants to say. Who does that? Nobody.

These characters are not relatable at all. And not just to me. I can't think of a single person I know who is remotely similar to any of them. Sure some of their situations are realistic (trouble trying to find your voice at work, having a crush on a friend/friend’s significant other, self-confidence issues). But the acting and dialogue surrounding those situations make them hard to relate to. Plus, stupid Dylan trashes all of her friends on her blog, and- surprise, surprise- everyone finds out and gets mad. What did you expect?

I was just hoping that this show would “get it”, but it didn’t. Perhaps different actors would make the characters less annoying. I’ll probably give the next episode a shot, but my hopes aren’t set too high.