I know you are thinking that this could be the makings of the most scandalous 'Carlee Blog' yet and it very well could be. . . just not how you are thinking!
So we decided to venture down to Provo (aka 'Happy Valley' for all of you non-Utah participants in today's blog) on Saturday night to watch an improve comedy show at Comedy Sportz.
SHAMELESS PLUG: Comedy Sportz is hilarious and the show is totally different every time because it's improv. You should try it - shows at 8 and 10:15 every weekend on Center Street just off University. Wow, that was sad!
So, I was riding with my bud Aaron to the show and we missed the exit. I like to think it was because of my compelling conversation skills but it can probably really be attributed to bad directions. Anyway, we decided to make a u-turn at an intersection and before I know it, my head was hitting the side window. (No worries, my head is fine and my hair still looked good!)
Just as I turned to tell Aaron that it wasn't kosher to run over medians in the middle of the road (which is what I thought he hit), I saw another car a little to close to ours - ok, touching it. Reality set it. . . we had been hit by two old people in a Chrysler!
Because it's a long story - I'll give you the Reader's Digest version: pull over, call cops, old man comes over to look at the damage and smells mildly funny (if it was cologne, he needs his money back because you should never smell like booze voluntarily), our friends show up and laugh their faces off, two cops show up, interviews, questions to us about who was driving the other car, old man mildly feisty about the cops being there and they have no registration or insurance on them (they JUST cleaned out their glove box. . . liars!), more cops show up (I was guessing they were bored. . . it was, afterall, Provo), vehicle search, bad words from the old man, cans removed from their car (and we FOUND the booze smell!), exchange information, more bad words from the old man, citation issued to old people (I still don't know what for. . . but I have a really good guess!), Carlee and Aaron leave. Whew, that was good.
Despite the fact we still made the late comedy show, the night was less than stellar. So, while you thought the headline sounded like loads of fun, I am here to tell you that a drunk, a cop and a comedy show do NOT Happy Valley make.
As a side note, I just ate some enchilada soup for lunch and just for future reference, enchiladas should stay enchiladas and soup should stay soup. NEVER combine the two. It's sick.
Monday, November 27, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
Sales Tactic or Hate Crime?
Hey y'all from the great state of Texas. That's right, this blog is coming to you from the land where everything is bigger but the roads are still as confusing. I'm still trying to figure out which way is north. . . no mountains.
On Monday we set out on our average vacation shopping trip to a city called Round Rock. They have an outlet mall there that is chalked full of stuff that we still can't afford (Calvin, Kenneth and Coach all made an appearance of course but I didn't seem to have enough Benjamin, Abe or George to go around). We were meandering (yes, I do think you can only REALLY do this in Texas) through the stores and came upon a couple of kiosks with rather 'excited' employees working in them. Little did I know what we were about to get into.
The first kiosk we came to was a set-up for Dead Sea Salts. These lotions and other scrubs or some junk like that are supposed to be the best thing for your skin, so good in fact that they bring them all the way from the Dead Sea to Round Rock Texas to be sold. Can you even believe that? Anyway, the gentleman working at the kiosk turned to my mother (who is not that old mind you) and asked 'Can I ask you a question?' Based on his tone, we presumed the man was going to ask us where we found our fabulous sunglasses or something of the nature so of course, my mom said 'Sure!' Well, sunglasses were not his concern. This weirdo turned to my mom and said 'Are you ok walking around with your skin looking like that?' ARE YOU KIDDING ME? What in the world just happened? Did he just insult my mom in hopes of selling something? Do people actually buy into this garbage?
Morbidly offended we stared at each other and decided to move on. Unfortunately for us, this would not be our last encounter with this team of salespeople that apparently failed sales 101 at the local community college. Next up, hair central. . .
Me being a girl with somewhat longer locks, my hair does tend to be picked on by any salesperson with a remedy to all the ailments that could afflict such a coif (dry hair, straight hair, curly hair, blue hair, whatever). This trip was no exception. As we approached the second kiosk, I could see I was the new target - mom for the skin, Carlee for the hair. Here we go again.
The girl in the second kiosk wasted no time farting around the issue - she went straight for the heart. 'You straighten your hair? I have something to show you. . ' 'Not interested,' I said in my most polite, leave-me-alone voice. 'You probably have a cheap straightener. That's why you are burning your hair!' Then, it happened. . . she touched it. Mall Worker 366 (maybe that was her employee number, I don't really know) touched my hair. Did I ask her to? Nope. Did I hope she would? Double nope. Piece of advice: DON'T TOUCH ME. . . especially right after you insult me thanks! I WILL freak out. (Side note: if you know me, don't be afraid. We've probably already broken that touching plane and I will not freak out. If you are a total stranger who loves to insult their customers, hands off!)
Needless to say this encounter did not end well. I proceeded to tell the salesperson that I basically thought she should do a bit more research before she went around insulting me. I might have hit her or something but you can't risk being thrown in a Texas jail. . . not in this lifetime.
Question to the public: Did I just miss the day that made this a great sales tool? I can see the chapter now: 'Insult your customers, get results.' What's happening here? Sales tactic or hate crime?
On Monday we set out on our average vacation shopping trip to a city called Round Rock. They have an outlet mall there that is chalked full of stuff that we still can't afford (Calvin, Kenneth and Coach all made an appearance of course but I didn't seem to have enough Benjamin, Abe or George to go around). We were meandering (yes, I do think you can only REALLY do this in Texas) through the stores and came upon a couple of kiosks with rather 'excited' employees working in them. Little did I know what we were about to get into.
The first kiosk we came to was a set-up for Dead Sea Salts. These lotions and other scrubs or some junk like that are supposed to be the best thing for your skin, so good in fact that they bring them all the way from the Dead Sea to Round Rock Texas to be sold. Can you even believe that? Anyway, the gentleman working at the kiosk turned to my mother (who is not that old mind you) and asked 'Can I ask you a question?' Based on his tone, we presumed the man was going to ask us where we found our fabulous sunglasses or something of the nature so of course, my mom said 'Sure!' Well, sunglasses were not his concern. This weirdo turned to my mom and said 'Are you ok walking around with your skin looking like that?' ARE YOU KIDDING ME? What in the world just happened? Did he just insult my mom in hopes of selling something? Do people actually buy into this garbage?
Morbidly offended we stared at each other and decided to move on. Unfortunately for us, this would not be our last encounter with this team of salespeople that apparently failed sales 101 at the local community college. Next up, hair central. . .
Me being a girl with somewhat longer locks, my hair does tend to be picked on by any salesperson with a remedy to all the ailments that could afflict such a coif (dry hair, straight hair, curly hair, blue hair, whatever). This trip was no exception. As we approached the second kiosk, I could see I was the new target - mom for the skin, Carlee for the hair. Here we go again.
The girl in the second kiosk wasted no time farting around the issue - she went straight for the heart. 'You straighten your hair? I have something to show you. . ' 'Not interested,' I said in my most polite, leave-me-alone voice. 'You probably have a cheap straightener. That's why you are burning your hair!' Then, it happened. . . she touched it. Mall Worker 366 (maybe that was her employee number, I don't really know) touched my hair. Did I ask her to? Nope. Did I hope she would? Double nope. Piece of advice: DON'T TOUCH ME. . . especially right after you insult me thanks! I WILL freak out. (Side note: if you know me, don't be afraid. We've probably already broken that touching plane and I will not freak out. If you are a total stranger who loves to insult their customers, hands off!)
Needless to say this encounter did not end well. I proceeded to tell the salesperson that I basically thought she should do a bit more research before she went around insulting me. I might have hit her or something but you can't risk being thrown in a Texas jail. . . not in this lifetime.
Question to the public: Did I just miss the day that made this a great sales tool? I can see the chapter now: 'Insult your customers, get results.' What's happening here? Sales tactic or hate crime?
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Making My Day. . .
Favorite Part of the Morning (thus far): hearing a girl talk for 30 minutes about how she just can't find clothes small enough to fit her. Her boys department cargos just make her angry. 'Fat America has ruined my wardrobe!' she said.
Message to Skinny Girl: Fat America will ruin more than your wardrobe if you aren't careful. . . people hear that mumbo jumbo and you just may be their lunch!
Enough said.
Message to Skinny Girl: Fat America will ruin more than your wardrobe if you aren't careful. . . people hear that mumbo jumbo and you just may be their lunch!
Enough said.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Representing Our Country. . . Well!
I can't believe that I just saw what I did. . . and more over, I can't believe I am writing about it but it was too funny not to blog. While I'm hanging out at home working, the WE channel is re-airing the MRS. America 2006 pageant (yeah Mrs., aka married and old, but you wouldn't know that looking at them). You would think that these older women would have some extra insight into life and that maybe, just maybe, the top six wouldn't give such idiotic answers to their final question? FALSE. They are idiots and it was the biggest train wreck I have seen in years. Here's a recap of the final 10 gut busting minutes:
1. Largest scandal of the night, once Mrs. Georgia found out she didn't make the top six, she announces she's actually pregnant. . . gasp! She fooled everyone. . . oh no! Soap opera drama I tell you.
2. There are six finalists because the loosing contestants get to vote one woman back into the finals. Is this Survivor? Nope, it's a pageant. If you loose, you loose. End of story.
3. Mrs. North Carolina was the proud recipient of the 'extra life' and made her way back into the finals. There was, however, what can now only be referred to as a 'Faith Hill Moment' as the camera showed backstage. Comments were heard from the 'looser' contestants like 'What?' and 'How did that happen?' and one girl even asked 'Notice that everyone that voted for her didn't even MAKE the top 12?' Holy crap? Who says that stuff? Cat fight!!!!!
4. Mrs. Utah made the finals. Has a Miss, Mrs, Little Miss, Grandma, anything Utah ever made it to the finals of any pageant ever? Nope. Most people don't even know that we are a state. She was actually picked to win by the other contestants but in true fashion, she didn't. Second runner up.
5. Question: 'Mrs. Nebraska, what is something about you that would surprise us?' Answer: 'Probably that I grew up on a farm and that my dad was a farmer. . obviously.' Really, there are farms in Nebraska? That is shocking! My world is totally turned around. In addition, the word 'obviously' should probably not be used in an answer to a question about surprises. Am I wrong about that? Fifth runner up. . . really, again, shocker!
6. Question: 'Define success.' Answer from Mrs. Arizona: 'Sussess is. . .' yes, I spelled it like it came out. BTW, winner!
7. Question: 'Describe yourself." Answer from Louisiana: 'Service, liberty, blah, blah, blah. . .OUR YOUTH ARE FAILING! We need to be better examples and get them out of drug-induced. . ." wow, don't hold back. Did you really want a question about either drugs or the youth in our community because I think that's what you planned on!
Needless to say, I almost wet myself laughing. It was so great. . . worth the tivo if you can find it. I haven't felt this smart in a really long time! Where do they find these people? I guess Arizona found the 'sussess' she was looking for!
1. Largest scandal of the night, once Mrs. Georgia found out she didn't make the top six, she announces she's actually pregnant. . . gasp! She fooled everyone. . . oh no! Soap opera drama I tell you.
2. There are six finalists because the loosing contestants get to vote one woman back into the finals. Is this Survivor? Nope, it's a pageant. If you loose, you loose. End of story.
3. Mrs. North Carolina was the proud recipient of the 'extra life' and made her way back into the finals. There was, however, what can now only be referred to as a 'Faith Hill Moment' as the camera showed backstage. Comments were heard from the 'looser' contestants like 'What?' and 'How did that happen?' and one girl even asked 'Notice that everyone that voted for her didn't even MAKE the top 12?' Holy crap? Who says that stuff? Cat fight!!!!!
4. Mrs. Utah made the finals. Has a Miss, Mrs, Little Miss, Grandma, anything Utah ever made it to the finals of any pageant ever? Nope. Most people don't even know that we are a state. She was actually picked to win by the other contestants but in true fashion, she didn't. Second runner up.
5. Question: 'Mrs. Nebraska, what is something about you that would surprise us?' Answer: 'Probably that I grew up on a farm and that my dad was a farmer. . obviously.' Really, there are farms in Nebraska? That is shocking! My world is totally turned around. In addition, the word 'obviously' should probably not be used in an answer to a question about surprises. Am I wrong about that? Fifth runner up. . . really, again, shocker!
6. Question: 'Define success.' Answer from Mrs. Arizona: 'Sussess is. . .' yes, I spelled it like it came out. BTW, winner!
7. Question: 'Describe yourself." Answer from Louisiana: 'Service, liberty, blah, blah, blah. . .OUR YOUTH ARE FAILING! We need to be better examples and get them out of drug-induced. . ." wow, don't hold back. Did you really want a question about either drugs or the youth in our community because I think that's what you planned on!
Needless to say, I almost wet myself laughing. It was so great. . . worth the tivo if you can find it. I haven't felt this smart in a really long time! Where do they find these people? I guess Arizona found the 'sussess' she was looking for!
Friday, November 10, 2006
Is It Exercise?
Again, why do I continue to post about the gym? Maybe it's because that's where I spend a pathetic 1/3 of my free time? Just when you think it can't get worse, the dreaded "beast" is reintroduced. . .
Rather than continue down this path of discussing my distaste for "The Beast", I'd like to chat about another "exercise" that I did at the gym for only the third time in history.
I had this crazy thought at about 6:00 last night: "It's been a while, maybe I should go and take that yoga class again at the gym. . ." FALSE. I should NOT go and take that yoga class at the gym, no matter how long it has been. There, it is documented. Maybe I'll remember next time.
In hopes of eliminating a seriously emotional rant about this topic, I decided to make a list of why I hate yoga (this primarily stems from the fact that I am really horrible at it. In fact, I might just make a t-shirt that says "I suck at Yoga". Everyone else was doing 'downward facing dog' and I was doing 'pathetic puppy'. However, I know it's the 'trendy' thing so for you yoga lovers that are reading, I apologize but for the time being, go find your chi somewhere else). Here we go. . .
Problems with Yoga:
1. No shoes OR socks. Not only is it ridiculous that you can't wear shoes while you 'exercise', but you can't wear socks either and that's just gross. . . especially when you just saw that guy in the gym running on the treadmill. please keep your sweaty feet covered. (Side note, if you need a quick foot fact about how much your feet actually DO sweat, check in with Matthew).
2. "It's all about breathing" is a hoax. It's not all about breathing. Life is about breathing - that's how you survive. Yoga is about stretching and balancing and twisting and looking like a total idiot in a room of flexible people.
3. Old people are better at yoga than most people. Any activity where the elderly can outperform most people (yoga) or children can be intimidating (snowboarding, ice skating) is completely off limits for me. I don't like being scared by either end of the spectrum.
4. What did she say? Yoga titles are not english or anything even understandable. In fact, the teacher made a joke about us being able to speak 'script' to which everyone else chuckled like it was an inside joke that only yoga master's would get (ok, I admit it - I laughed to so that I would fit in. I didn't get it, but I laughed. You know, that 'I'm totally out of place' laugh. . . )
5. It's totally relaxing. Again, FALSE. It is not relaxing. It's actually pretty uncomfortable when you are trying to "find your center" or whatever. The only part that was mildly relaxing was the end when we just layed there. Everything in the middle was a horrible mess. . . pushing and pulling and straps and blocks. I was SWEATING! What ever happened to breathing?
The list could go on but I will end here. I know you are thinking that this couldn't possibly be as bad as I say, but it was and if you don't believe me, you try pulling your foot to the back of your head and tell me how 'relaxed' you are. What a joke.
Rather than continue down this path of discussing my distaste for "The Beast", I'd like to chat about another "exercise" that I did at the gym for only the third time in history.
I had this crazy thought at about 6:00 last night: "It's been a while, maybe I should go and take that yoga class again at the gym. . ." FALSE. I should NOT go and take that yoga class at the gym, no matter how long it has been. There, it is documented. Maybe I'll remember next time.
In hopes of eliminating a seriously emotional rant about this topic, I decided to make a list of why I hate yoga (this primarily stems from the fact that I am really horrible at it. In fact, I might just make a t-shirt that says "I suck at Yoga". Everyone else was doing 'downward facing dog' and I was doing 'pathetic puppy'. However, I know it's the 'trendy' thing so for you yoga lovers that are reading, I apologize but for the time being, go find your chi somewhere else). Here we go. . .
Problems with Yoga:
1. No shoes OR socks. Not only is it ridiculous that you can't wear shoes while you 'exercise', but you can't wear socks either and that's just gross. . . especially when you just saw that guy in the gym running on the treadmill. please keep your sweaty feet covered. (Side note, if you need a quick foot fact about how much your feet actually DO sweat, check in with Matthew).
2. "It's all about breathing" is a hoax. It's not all about breathing. Life is about breathing - that's how you survive. Yoga is about stretching and balancing and twisting and looking like a total idiot in a room of flexible people.
3. Old people are better at yoga than most people. Any activity where the elderly can outperform most people (yoga) or children can be intimidating (snowboarding, ice skating) is completely off limits for me. I don't like being scared by either end of the spectrum.
4. What did she say? Yoga titles are not english or anything even understandable. In fact, the teacher made a joke about us being able to speak 'script' to which everyone else chuckled like it was an inside joke that only yoga master's would get (ok, I admit it - I laughed to so that I would fit in. I didn't get it, but I laughed. You know, that 'I'm totally out of place' laugh. . . )
5. It's totally relaxing. Again, FALSE. It is not relaxing. It's actually pretty uncomfortable when you are trying to "find your center" or whatever. The only part that was mildly relaxing was the end when we just layed there. Everything in the middle was a horrible mess. . . pushing and pulling and straps and blocks. I was SWEATING! What ever happened to breathing?
The list could go on but I will end here. I know you are thinking that this couldn't possibly be as bad as I say, but it was and if you don't believe me, you try pulling your foot to the back of your head and tell me how 'relaxed' you are. What a joke.
A Common Problem
Issue: Sitting down to eat directly underneath a television mounted on the wall of a restaurant.
Why? Maybe because the guy sitting across the room eating his burger either appears as though he is gawking at YOU while you eat your meal when he is really watching ESPN (creepy, I know) or is so enthrawled in the game that he forgets one or both of the following: 1. You can't let your mouth hang open after a spectacular play when there is food in said mouth or 2. You can't jabber with your friends or yell at the officials with (again) food in your mouth. Both of these maneuvers may be acceptable on your couch at home but they are NOT ok in a public restaurant. Man, it got weird.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
A Tangled Web. . .
This just in. . . ok, really, this is like two days old and could qualify as the least shocking news I have read all week but it's still worth a comment!
Headline: Spears upbeat after filing for divorce
What? Britt and K-Fed didn't make it? What's the world coming to when a solid relationship like that can't survive the toils and troubles of Hollywood? I really thought they were so grounded. . . TIMEOUT. What I really meant to say is 'What took you so long? You married an imbred Jed who likes to rap. Have SOME standards. . .Sick.'
At least she's coming down from all that fame and exposure she got being married to a superstar like K-Fed and can enjoy the simple things again . . .
Headline: Spears upbeat after filing for divorce
What? Britt and K-Fed didn't make it? What's the world coming to when a solid relationship like that can't survive the toils and troubles of Hollywood? I really thought they were so grounded. . . TIMEOUT. What I really meant to say is 'What took you so long? You married an imbred Jed who likes to rap. Have SOME standards. . .Sick.'
At least she's coming down from all that fame and exposure she got being married to a superstar like K-Fed and can enjoy the simple things again . . .
Monday, November 06, 2006
Dressing Down
I was at the gym tonight about to battle 'The Beast' (that's the endearing term for the most gosh awful stair climber on the face of the earth) and decided to do a quick run-through of the stash of trashy magazines before I climbed my way to misery. As I was reading through the regulars (US Weekly, People, etc.), I had a premonition. . . the stars in these magazines look like crap!
Not that I have a lot to compare to. . . afterall, I am the one who needs to spend about six years on a stair climber before I am even in the same hemisphere of shape as these women. But seriously, how is it that these magazine photographers manage to catch stars when they look their absolute worst? We aren't just talking 'I left my house without mascara' bad either. We are talking 'I decided not to bathe or brush my hair or change clothes between movies' bad and for some stars, that's a ridiculously long time!
Then, it came to me. There is an old saying : Any publicity is good publicity. So, how do struggling stars make the first 10 pages of any magazine? There is only one surefire way. They go out in public dressed like a homeless person! I'm not just talking 'dressing down' either. I'm talking really, really sick it up.
Because it amused me, I'm going to share a few favorites with you straight from one of the classiest magazines I know (no, not the National Inquirer). Forbes Magazine did an actual slideshow on 'Overexposed Celebrities' which, oddly enough, happen to be some of the worst dressed people that I have ever seen (point about publicity proven, huh?): http://www.forbes.com/2006/10/04/tech-media_cx_lr_100406_celeb_slide.html?thisSpeed=12000
My favorite from the show:
Pamela's mangled face! It's awsomely sick. Somebody get that woman a chisel.
Moral of the story: If you are ever in Beverly Hills, oversized furry boots with cutoffs, a t-shirt and a beanie are not just for Arkansas anymore. Sport 'em on Rodeo and I'll see you in US Magazine.
Not that I have a lot to compare to. . . afterall, I am the one who needs to spend about six years on a stair climber before I am even in the same hemisphere of shape as these women. But seriously, how is it that these magazine photographers manage to catch stars when they look their absolute worst? We aren't just talking 'I left my house without mascara' bad either. We are talking 'I decided not to bathe or brush my hair or change clothes between movies' bad and for some stars, that's a ridiculously long time!
Then, it came to me. There is an old saying : Any publicity is good publicity. So, how do struggling stars make the first 10 pages of any magazine? There is only one surefire way. They go out in public dressed like a homeless person! I'm not just talking 'dressing down' either. I'm talking really, really sick it up.
Because it amused me, I'm going to share a few favorites with you straight from one of the classiest magazines I know (no, not the National Inquirer). Forbes Magazine did an actual slideshow on 'Overexposed Celebrities' which, oddly enough, happen to be some of the worst dressed people that I have ever seen (point about publicity proven, huh?): http://www.forbes.com/2006/10/04/tech-media_cx_lr_100406_celeb_slide.html?thisSpeed=12000
My favorite from the show:
Pamela's mangled face! It's awsomely sick. Somebody get that woman a chisel.
Moral of the story: If you are ever in Beverly Hills, oversized furry boots with cutoffs, a t-shirt and a beanie are not just for Arkansas anymore. Sport 'em on Rodeo and I'll see you in US Magazine.
Friday, November 03, 2006
My New Arch-Nemesis. . .
On occasion, I like to stop and get a cup of hot chocolate on the way to work. Nothing too crazy or out of the ordinary but it's an indulgence, none-the-less. This morning, I went against my better judgement and changed things up a bit - rather than making my way to the local Einstein's to get me my chocolate fix, I stopped at the new Starbuck's near my house to partake of their mouth-scalding blend. Who knew what I was getting into. . .
I figured that it was common knowledge (at least at a store whos main income is hot drinks) that lids on hot drinks are not meant to contain the liquid. . .really. They are meant to slow the flow when sipping a hot beverage so only parts of your mouth are burned to no feeling rather than your whole face being scalded when you hit a bump in the road and drink 'sloshing' occurs. Everyone knows this technique. . . which is why when you see people filling up styrofoam cups at the gas station, they freak out if the machine keeps dispensing up to the very top of the cup! Nobody wants hot liquid near the brim of the cup because they know the dire consequences of getting greedy with hot drinks - you WILL get burned.
Anyway, apparently the new guy (I am giving him the benefit of the doubt by assuming that he's new - otherwise, I should call him the idiot of the month and, btw, the inspiration for the title of this blog) at this particular establishment had not been trained in the art of 'stopping short'; he filled that cup right up to the brim and snapped the lid on. Me, in all of my wisdom, should have listened to that little voice in my head that said 'Carlee, I don't care how talented you think you are. If you leave this Starbucks with that hot chocolate as full as it is, you'll be wearing it by the time you get to work.' Needless to say, I didn't listen.
This is the part where I plug my favorite item of the day - today's blog is brought to you by the Tide 'To Go' stick. Frankly, every person should keep one in their purse/car/pocket at all times. It pretty much works on everything. . . even hot chocolate!
I figured that it was common knowledge (at least at a store whos main income is hot drinks) that lids on hot drinks are not meant to contain the liquid. . .really. They are meant to slow the flow when sipping a hot beverage so only parts of your mouth are burned to no feeling rather than your whole face being scalded when you hit a bump in the road and drink 'sloshing' occurs. Everyone knows this technique. . . which is why when you see people filling up styrofoam cups at the gas station, they freak out if the machine keeps dispensing up to the very top of the cup! Nobody wants hot liquid near the brim of the cup because they know the dire consequences of getting greedy with hot drinks - you WILL get burned.
Anyway, apparently the new guy (I am giving him the benefit of the doubt by assuming that he's new - otherwise, I should call him the idiot of the month and, btw, the inspiration for the title of this blog) at this particular establishment had not been trained in the art of 'stopping short'; he filled that cup right up to the brim and snapped the lid on. Me, in all of my wisdom, should have listened to that little voice in my head that said 'Carlee, I don't care how talented you think you are. If you leave this Starbucks with that hot chocolate as full as it is, you'll be wearing it by the time you get to work.' Needless to say, I didn't listen.
This is the part where I plug my favorite item of the day - today's blog is brought to you by the Tide 'To Go' stick. Frankly, every person should keep one in their purse/car/pocket at all times. It pretty much works on everything. . . even hot chocolate!
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Gel makes great things happen.
I just got called a 'Sex Kitten' by one of the most flamboyant men I know! Must be the curly hair. . .I LOVE today!
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
Chalk Another One Up!
Tonight was our final regular season volleyball game (yuck it up kids. . . yes, short girls can play volleyball too!) and it was madness. We played this team of Amazon women that hit the volleyball like it was their kid that hadn't cleaned their room. Anyway, we had five people to try and battle off the long-term effects of steroids which, come to find out, do include getting a really bad attitude. We, my friends, were NOT successful.
The point of this blog isn't that we lost (which I am actually becoming pretty accustomed to after this year's winning softball season as well) or the fact that my knees look like I just crawled to Kaysville and back. The point is that I really, really hate loosing to people with bad attitudes. Have you ever noticed that? Loosing is bad enough but loosing to inconsiderate jerks does something to your insides. . . it ignites rage that burns like the fire of 1,000 suns. Descriptive enough? I think so. . .
Anyway, I sometimes wonder what happened to these people in their childhood that made them not ever grow up - I always thought you grew out of tattling, tantrums and name calling but I was wrong. Better yet, I weep for the future generations of athletes that have these idiots as parents. You know the type - that parent on the front row at the basketball game that yells obscenities at the opposing team. They usually choose really articulate things too like 'Cheater!' or 'Jerk' or 'Dumba#$!' and then they sit there and look confused as to why the opposing team (composed of 5-7 year old Jr Jazz hopefulls) is confused and mildly nervous about 'that one kid's dad'.
I love sports and really, all competition, as much as the next person but the question I pose is this: Is recreation ________ (fill in the blank with any given sport. . now I'm getting interactive with my readers!) really worth sacrificing your dignity? I say no. . . that is unless you are sure you can actually win the fight in the parking lot!
The point of this blog isn't that we lost (which I am actually becoming pretty accustomed to after this year's winning softball season as well) or the fact that my knees look like I just crawled to Kaysville and back. The point is that I really, really hate loosing to people with bad attitudes. Have you ever noticed that? Loosing is bad enough but loosing to inconsiderate jerks does something to your insides. . . it ignites rage that burns like the fire of 1,000 suns. Descriptive enough? I think so. . .
Anyway, I sometimes wonder what happened to these people in their childhood that made them not ever grow up - I always thought you grew out of tattling, tantrums and name calling but I was wrong. Better yet, I weep for the future generations of athletes that have these idiots as parents. You know the type - that parent on the front row at the basketball game that yells obscenities at the opposing team. They usually choose really articulate things too like 'Cheater!' or 'Jerk' or 'Dumba#$!' and then they sit there and look confused as to why the opposing team (composed of 5-7 year old Jr Jazz hopefulls) is confused and mildly nervous about 'that one kid's dad'.
I love sports and really, all competition, as much as the next person but the question I pose is this: Is recreation ________ (fill in the blank with any given sport. . now I'm getting interactive with my readers!) really worth sacrificing your dignity? I say no. . . that is unless you are sure you can actually win the fight in the parking lot!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)