Who I am. . .

Hey folks! It's maybe been a little longer since my last blog than it should have been - heaven knows I've had plenty o' time over the holiday to write down some thoughts and/or inspirations that have struck me since my last rant about Christmas music. . . but I just haven't. The holiday has been relatively quiet and there hasn't been a whole ton to write about so I've kept my peace - except that I CAN now tell you that I got a new waffle maker for Christmas and that makes me pretty excited!!!

Even though the holiday has been relatively calm, these last couple months have been doosies for me. Since October, I've been through the gauntlet and, at times, have been left feeling like the gauntlet did in fact, win. It's been a total experiment in faith for me and trials of (what I consider to be) epoch proportions. . . ok, nothing THAT dramatic. But it's been a tough go at it for me - big decisions, large changes, all the goodies. I think I can safely say that I've come out the other end of this mess smelling a little more like roses than I went into it - one can only hope anyway or what's the point!?!

Anyway - on to the point. The one thing that really made a difference over the last couple of months for me was taking the time to figure out who I am and what it is that I really, really want in life. Yes, a sports car would be nice but it's not (as I figured out) necessarily at the top of my list. I think that the only true way to make the most correct decisions for yourself is to know what it is that makes you tick. So that's what I've done.

In similar fashion to so many bloggers before me, I've made a random list of some random things about me - things that are really important and some things that well, may not seem to be to the untrained eye (how silly is that) but do show a little bit about who I am. Hold on to your seats - it's going to be a bumpy and potentially awkward ride!

1. I live in a ridiculously small house. It's drafty. It's old. But it's mine and I love it. It's one of the biggest things I've ever done and I'm proud that I bought it.
2. I love to write and hope that one day, I have enough to say about something that I can publish a book.
3. I don't like the winter and the thought of scraping ice off my windows makes me sad.
4. My parents are proud of everything that I do and that helps me make good decisions.
5. I don't like hot cinnamon. At all. It makes my mouth burn and why would someone do that to themselves?
6. I sing and dance (limited, of course) in my car. If a song is THAT good, I just can't help myself.
7. I hate driving home from work.
8. I know that prayer works. I love when I can have less faith in that because I KNOW that it's real.
9. I love my family more than anything and they make that pretty easy to do.
10. My favorite color is red.
11. I like to work. I may complain about it (a lot) but it makes me feel fulfilled.
12. I am a total hugger. It's genetic (thanks mom) so I can't help it. I hug everyone - a lot. And, just so you are aware, there is such a thing as a bad hugger.
13. I have the funniest friends on the planet, no contest. They would out-whit anyone. We can have a contest.
14. In reference to the point above, I'm mildly competitive. . . haha. But nobody makes me more competitive than my brother which is weird because nobody supports my victories more than him either!
15. I am a total daddy's girl. He'll do anything for me but I try not to abuse that fact. . . too often.
16. I don't do fantasy very well. . . . maybe because I think reality is exciting enough??
17. I'm a sucker for flowers. I hate that I'm a sucker for anything. But I am a sucker for that.
18. I was THAT kid in high school - the one who did the group projects and the extra credit. Again, the competitive drive rears its ugly head! Most of that continued over into college.
19. I grew up playing sports - soccer, basketball, softball, karate. I grew up changing uniforms in the back of the car. I'd like to think that I'm ok at all of them, but a superstar at none. My love for sports continues into the now!
20. I love to laugh more than anything on the planet. It makes me feel so great.
21. I have loved a lot of people in my life but I don't think I've even been "in love" per se.
22. I play the piano - poorly - and I wish that I was better at it.
23. My mom loves me more than anyone. She always says that and after all of these years, I think she's right.
24. I like my hair and I hope I never loose it!
25. I'm stronger than I think and I really believe that most people are.
26. The biggest misconception of me is that I'm intimidating and completely independent. While I am pretty independent in some ways, I love being taken care of. It feels great.
27. I'm a total worrier. I worry about a lot of unnecessary things. Again, I think it's genetic? haha.
28. I am a Broadway junkie. I love musicals most.
29. I have been a radio DJ and done play-by-play sports broadcasting on the air. I loved it.
30. I like to read - mostly church books which may be nerdy but I don't really care. It's what I do.
31. I have a great life - one that most people would classify as "easy". While they are probably right, I've worked hard to make it that way.
32. I believe that people make their own "luck".
33. I've had to fire someone before and it was one of the hardest things I've done.
34. I don't believe in quitting at anything. . . except smoking and everyone should do that!!! :)
35. There are people in life that can understand you 100% of the time. I've met only a couple.

Ok, I think that ought to do it for now. 35 is a pretty good list, right? A lot of this list contains pretty random things about me but they all play a part in who I am and what I do. Just because I wrote this down does not give permission for me to be mocked relentlessly!!!

'Tis the Season. . . to be a HYPOCRITE!

Hey everyone and welcome to the holiday season. . . one to surely be filled with glad tidings of great joy! I love the holiday season and everything that it stands for - the lights, the trees, the sweets, the people and even the music! FM 100 has been playing Christmas music for one month already - can you believe that? Anyway, hearing the Christmas tunes made me think of my year-over-year Christmas rant that gets me into trouble at least once during the holiday season. So what do I decide to do but publish it so I can take the tongue lashings in public! Really, it's so everyone knows how I feel about this gem of a topic. . . so here it goes:

You know what bugs me? Hypocrites. I would rather deal with my cube neighbor not showering (that isn't true, by the way. . . I'm just saying I'd rather, so you get the point) than dealing with a hypocrite. I HATE the saying "Do as I say, not as I do." which I heard all of the time growing up. I'm for sure more of a "Practice what you preach." type of girl because I like to think that's how I am. . . I try to be anyway.

It's sad that the one time of year that hypocrisy drives me up the wall is Christmas because really, I'd just like to enjoy my holiday in peace; and maybe I can start doing that once this is out in the open and recorded as a 'things I hate'. This blatant type of hypocrisy involves nothing other than good old Christmas music itself. Here comes the thesis of this rant: I do not agree with non-Christians making a pretty penny on a Christmas album. They don't believe what they are singing. They don't even believe in Christmas. Don't become a sell-out by doing a version of Silent Night and selling it to the masses. It's lame, it's hypocritical and it sucks. There was no 'holy night' that you are aware of. There was no 'holy infant' for you to ponder on. Don't sing about it. Don't record it. I don't even think you should be singing about Santa Claus because the whole premise of Christmas coming to pass is based on Jesus Christ and his holy birth. I don't sing about Kwanzaa! Why? No it's not because a) I don't sing OR b) I don't even know what Kwanzaa is. . . so you put those thoughts to bed right now! I don't sing about it because I don't believe in it. It's the same reason I don't write/sing sings about Hanukkah, soggy bread, sex before marriage, cinnamon or Miracle Whip - I just don't believe in them.

The two biggest violators of this little rule of mine could be considered two of the most talented musical artists of all time - to that, I don't scoff. I do, however, scoff at the fact that you ditched your religious beliefs in order to make a buck. Neil Diamond and Barbara Streisand, come on down. You're the next contestants on Carlee's List-o-Hypocrites! (I purposely did not link to their cds because I'm anti buying them).

Both of these artist have publicly proclaimed their undying faith in Judaism and for that, they have my respect. I love when people believe in something - even if it's not a belief that I share, I respect those that are willing to publicly make a statement about their faith and really, live it to it's fullest. I do not respect the fact that because popular culture allows for the holiday season to be rich is cash flow if you are willing to make a Christmas cd (and I know that EVERYONE has one - the muppets might even have one, who knows), you sold out. Both Neil and Babs sing Silent Night on their cds (although Babs tried to be sly and name it Sleep in Heavenly Peace). Did I miss something? Do I not really know what that song is about? I thought it was about the story in the bible - you know, the one with a baby and shepherds and a manger and a star. . . all of that stuff. Correct me if I'm wrong.

Babs also favors us with O Little Town of Bethlehem and then heavily favors us with songs about Santa and snow. Neil, however, didn't stop at Silent Night. He was kind of enough to favor the masses with God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, Little Drummer Boy, Hark the Herald Angels Sing and last, but certainly not least, O Holy Night. For me, that last one is a kicker because, personally, it represents all that is Christian about this holiday. . . but let's be real, Silent Night did me in.

My point is not that these people are wrong because they aren't Christians. It has nothing to do with that and if that's what you are getting from this, you didn't read it. My point is that regardless of your beliefs, you should never abandon them for cash - ever. Even if you stand to make a lot of money. . . like say if you were going to release a Christmas album. If you do sell-out, that's what you are - a sell-out. . . and you will then be on my list.

Another afternoon conversation gone bad. . .

After seeing my last post, GW decided to go the rounds again in IM. Prepare yourself. . .

GW: CARLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
Me: What's up?
GW: Did you by chance see the ram-bone
GW: can't believe I actually axed you that
GW: That made me run out of the BB when I visited for a bachelor party
GW: gift
Me: oh my gosh
Me: I don't even know what to say to you right now
Me: this is a WHOLE new level
GW: Sorry but I still have nightmares
GW: the real reason I am IMing you is to find out about GB
Me: sure. . . GB. . . not the BB?
Me: that place was so sick
Me: GB was a-freaking-mazing
Me: ram-bone?
Me: now THIS may have to be blogged. . .
Me: I can't stop laughing
GW: I can't describe what it was
GW: but I will never go back because of that
Me: hahaha
Me): this is for sure going on the blog - so you better stop telling people that you are the ghost writer!
GW: so I shouldn't tell you about piggly wiggly either then
GW: any who
Me: oh man
GW: back to GB
GW: I wanted to go because I secretly have a man crush on him.

Not a secret anymore!! SO funny. Thanks GW for making my night.

I question your motives!

Today I had an interesting lunch. . . to say the least. I've been invited to a bridal shower this Friday and received instruction not to bring a "nice" gift, if you catch my drift. (And if you don't catch my drift, start singing "Santa Clause is coming to town" to realize what the polar opposite of nice is. . . and THEN catch my drift). Anyway, it's for one of my best buds' fiance's so I'm more than willing to succumb to the request. She's now a good friend, so I have no hesitation about getting a gift that I would never want my mother to know that I bought - until it comes to actually buying the present. . .
I decided to visit one of Utah's shadiest locals ("lo-cal") to obtain my piece-de-resistance for the blushing bride. I say it's one of the shadiest because not only does it sell questionable merchandise, but it's in West Valley and you don't get much shadier than that. Blue Boutique on 35th south, here I come!
I strutted in with all the confidence that I could muster, not wanting to look like the naive mormon nun that I SO am, thinking that a little confidence in my step would make it less awkward. And it did - for about 3 seconds. I HAD NO IDEA!!!! That's all I really have to say about that. In addition, I wasn't even in the "Adult" section? What is this, the kids section? If so, what kind of junior high delinquents are shopping here?
Anyway, I quickly made my way to the area that I was looking for (not that I really even knew what I was looking for, but it was in the back of the store and I felt comfortable with that). BUT, in order to get to the "G" rated section (which still made me blush), I had to pass said "Adult" section with the dirty velvet curtain over the entrance. Unfortunately for the guy inside that section, the curtain was not closed all the way and we made eye contact. You know that face that a little kid gets when he knows he's been caught stealing candy? Well, that was it. That old man looked mortified. . . like I just caught him buying dirty pron! Oh wait, I did. Then I noticed he had on one of those annoying phone earpieces that make it look like you are talking to yourself and I realized that he was on his lunch break just surfing for porn in the nudy store. Here's what I wanted to say:
"Dear Old Guy,
You are old and gross and frankly, should be banned from being within 100 yards of any elementary school. You have your ear piece in, just in case you get a call. Question: What if someone actually calls? Are you going to answer it and let them know where you are at? Just in case the wife calls (who I now have total pity for) and asks you to stop and get some bread on the way home from work? NO! This is embarrassing. You are caught. Sick."
Instead I just looked at him like I was caught stealing candy and scampered off to get my G-rated items.
I know it's a double standard but it's SO different to see women in those places or even young couples because you know it's probably because they just got married or it's for a shower gift or something. Seeing old, creepy men in the "Adult" section creeps me out. He was gross. And really, I don't feel guilty because I, after all, was only in the kids section. . .

Calling Baton Rouge!!!

So, I figured I had better get writing or this was going to turn into the Ghost Writer's blog. . . permanently. Plus, I had a stellar weekend so of course, it's time to write about it!!

Some critics may read this blog and wonder what the big deal is, but I got to do one of the greatest things ever - in fact, something that I've hoped I'd get the chance to do before I died. What could it be? I saw Garth Brooks in concert. Not only did I get to see him in concert, but I had to fly all the way to Kansas City to do so and it was amazing!!! Sidenote: Garth just became the #1 selling artist of all time so mock all you want, you can't argue with that!

We spent the weekend chilling in Kansas City - having some b-b-que and just seeing the sites. Really, it was a time waster until the concert last night at the Sprint Center!! We hot all cowgirled up for the show including everything from buckles to that most authentic hat of mine. Shhh, don't tell anyone that I've actually owned that for years and did NOT buy it just for the occasion.

Anyway, we picked up our Garth SWAG and then hit the concert in style! We snagged ourselves some limited-edition hoodies. . . and by limited-edition, I mean pretty much everyone there bought one. So waht! It rocks.

It was the most amazing show. I think the funniest part was when a crazy, white-trash fan through a bra on the stage and it made Garthy forget the lyrics to one of my favorite songs. Anyway, check out some pics. Don't hate. . . ok, you can a little because it was unbelievable!!

GW - It's about time

Timing is everything. Whether you are looking for a mate, a new job, or an extra breadstick at lunch, timing needs to be on your side.

Today I decided to take advantage of the fact that my life partner, ahem, I mean “lunch” partner decided to go hang out with someone cooler than me. (This is fine, because he doesn’t know that today I added my 5th, and most likely final friend to my facebook page). Anywho at lunchtime I made a mad dash for some sub par Italian food at the Fazoli’s and to get another stamp on my buy ten meals get a drink free card. (It’s a lofty goal but sometimes I need to stretch myself).

Once I arrived I ordered the rigatoni romano, found myself a seat, and waited for the buzzer to beckon that my 6,000 calorie meal was ready for me to ingest. Now I should back up a little. I don’t really like Fazoli’s but the fact is, if you dine in, there are all you can eat breadsticks. SOLD!!! I was willing to risk the possibility of being a loner to receive a couple of extra 1,000 calorie buttery breadsticks.

However, timing was not on my side. Not only did a couple of co workers see me in my state of loneness, but I never receive an extra breadstick. Apparently the mentally handicapped breadstick Nazi will pass you by if you still have the initial breadsticks you received with your meal. Therefore, I quickly snarfed the final stick down and anxiously awaited her next pass through the tables.

To my surprise, she did not make the rounds again. She did however pass by my table with the breadstick tongs as if she was mocking me. I have never felt more like Pavlov’s dog than I did at that moment. While Jimmy Buffets Jingle bells played overhead (Yes it is only Nov 7th ……. again timing) I couldn’t help but think that all I want for Christmas is another Damn breadstick. But no luck! Does she not know I can go to the Olive Garden and have soup and all you can eat breadsticks for less money than I spent here? Do I have to hide my breadstick next time to get another one? Sometimes life just isn’t fair.

I don’t know if this is the case of not, but somehow I believe that the little red ridinghood retarded breadstick Nazi is still walking around the lobby passing out free breadsticks for the rest of her shift. If only I had waited a little longer, or had better timing.

All my Best,

GW

GW: Hallo-what?

Happy All Hallows' Eve everyone. Yeah it’s me again. Old GW couldn’t resist blogging about the stupidest holiday known to mankind. (Yeah that’s right I called myself GW. I figure if we are now so casual that we call erectile dysfunction ED, I should be able to start calling myself GW).

Let’s get down to business. Why does everyone make such a big deal out of today? I pretend to be something I am not every day when I go to work. The difference is I don’t have to wear a costume to do it. But some adults still feel obligated to dress up like a pumpkin, a character from the wizard of Oz, or Captain Jack Sparrow. There is only one captain Jack and I don’t want some 300 pound man swashbuckling his way around the office thinking he is a pirate.

I realize that my ideas shouldn’t be impressed upon everyone, and I am fine with kids trick or treating, but please be aware of the rules and regulations should you or your children decide to knock on my door tonight.

1. Trick or Treat was designed to be a question not a statement. There will be times throughout the night that I will opt not to provide a treat and will request that a trick be played on me.

2. Do not ring the door bell more than once. You will be lucky if I even come to the door. I fully realize that your children are trying to collect more free items than the Louisianans did from FEMA, but I am not going to sprint to the door to hand out candy that I bought with my hard earned money.

3. Do not bring by your babies to trick or treat at my house. The last time I checked I was fresh out of similac and breast milk. Plus a baby dressed up as a vegetable is not that funny……anymore.

4. Make an effort on your costume. Don’t just cut a couple of holes in a sheet and pretend you are a ghost. I am not scared by that, and you look more like a member of the KKK than you do a ghost. If you want free stuff from me, impress me. FYI…. the transformers were not made out of a cardboard box. If you try to sneak by with a homemade costume, you are going to get a money mailer coupon to have your carpets steam cleaned. Better yet, maybe a discount on teeth whitening coupon from Dr Boyden. (By the way Jimmy Chunga I don’t give a rat’s ass that he is your family dentist. Stop talking about him on the radio as if you are endorsing him for free. He is paying you to say how great he is.)

5. If you are over 12 don’t even think about knocking on my door. If you do, you will get a bouillon cube to make gravy. If you are old enough to be forced to use the communal shower in P.E. Class, you probably already realize that the world is cruel and not fair. Thus you shouldn’t be sad when you get something to contribute to Sunday dinner.

6. Don’t do the trick or treat smell my feet line. That’s disgusting. I don’t say “here’s a tootsie roll, now smell my hole”.

Anyway good luck out there tonight. Watch out for the razor blades in apples and drugs in the candy. (Like a crack addict would ever share with kids). I hope you remember the true reason for the season and take a moment to reflect on the fact that Rob Van Winkle (AKA Vanilla Ice) turns 39 today.

Now where did I put my mascara and eyeliner so I can put the finishing touches on my Capn Jack costume?

Gost Writer - Wheels of Contention

First of all let me say how excited I am to be a ghost writer. Ever since I saw that show on PBS I have thought to myself, “Could there be a better job than helping kids solve mysteries by providing clues to riddles”? I think not; however I recently realized that one of the kids on the show turned out to be gay (not that there is anything wrong with that). But I can’t help but think that may have had a little something to do with his decision. (Well that and the fact that his name is Willie).

Anyhow, let’s get down to business. Last night I was doing a little shopping at the Target and was leaving the check out counter when a younger female ran into me. Let me be more specific, she skated into me. That’s right she had on (in my opinion) one of the worst inventions created by mankind………The Wheelie shoe.

After giving her the “oh no you didn’t” look, this young gal decided to walk/skate off as if nothing ever happened.

1) Is the next generation that lazy that they can’t walk to school, or to the produce section at Target? If you need wheels to get around in the grocery store, go borrow one of those scooters. Believe me they work fine, I have used them several times.
2) My Spawn will never own a pair of these shoes. Sure I owned a pair of roller skates growing up, but when I wanted to go wheeling around, I did it at the Freaking 49th Street Galleria with other prepubescent children, and creepy old men that still thought it was the 70’s, but had a fond attachment to the song footloose.
3) These things scare me. The first time I saw someone gliding across a floor at the mall, I thought that I had got some bad mushrooms from Pioneer Park. Human beings walk, run, or jog, we DO NOT glide.
4) These shoes discriminate against the elderly or people with a shoe size bigger than 7. If these shoes we sooooooooo cool, why don’t adults use them? The last time I checked, the Dali Lama, Pope Benedict, and Matt Lauer do not use them, so why should I?
5) Why hasn’t this fad passed? I was only able to wear my parachute pants and slap bracelets for about 5 minutes, while the little brats that run into me have had these damn things for close to five years.
6) If they are going to be permanently adopted by society, can we at least make people say “go go gadget shoes”?

Thanks for allowing me to vent. Don’t worry though; I will be fine with a little help from my friend Mr. Zoloff, some group counseling, and a few hours of ghost writer season 2 now available on dvd.

Ah, the pressure to be cool. . .

This was by far the funniest conversation I've had in a long time. I have been asked to change the name of the other party involved just for protection purposes. Said party has recently agreed to make occasional "ghost writer" posts to the blog, for which I am very excited because their humor MUST be shared.

Sidenote: sections of the conversation not affecting the outcome of said conversation may have been omitted or condensed for room's sake and really, to add to the overall humor of this conversation.

GW: I am just trying to rebrand myself. I need to be a little more edgier.

Carlee: I don't know that the things we've talked about qualify as 'edgy'?

GW: I am also into Elmo.

Carlee: Wow

GW: I mean Emo
GW: My church class is teaching me how to be cool.

Carlee: 8 year olds?

GW: I teach the 15-16 year old class.
GW: Curtting is in.
GW: So is facebook.
GW: and myspace.
GW: But myspace is more for the molesters.

There was so much more to this but for the sake of time, I'll end it there, on that solid note. Thanks Ghost Writer for the commentary. Can't wait to see what develops from this!

Did I really just see that?

Either someone has the worst functioning colon/stomach in addition to having quite possibly the worst aim ever (you think you know where this is going, but you don't) or someone was having their lunch in the bathroom. That's right folks, I just saw a full, one-inch piece of french fry on the bathroom floor about a foot in front of the toilet.

I don't know which is worse - no digestive breakdown accompanied with bad aim or someone "lovin' it" in the bathroom over a carton of fries?

All I have to say is gross. Bada bup ba ba. . .

That dreaded table. . .

So, some time ago our company decided to "give a little something to the employees" and purchased a pool table, foosball table and a ping pong table. They were hoping that it would distract us from the hopeless monotony of our jobs - aka "We are getting the tables as a way for you to take a break and release stress." Like I said, hopeless monotony.

Anyway, the tables have become a little bit of an anger point for several of us. . . i.e. (loving the acronyms today) the ones of us that have been here working until after 6:30 more than once this week. Release stress, yes, good idea. Train for the Olympic ping pong team, not so good. There are people that are spending over an hour out there on a daily basis and it's starting to really tick me off. So much so that I may hide the paddles, sticks and ping pong balls that are necessary to play these games.

Case and point: I walked through the shop today at 9:30 (for all of you readers out there, that is 1 hour after we technically open our doors (like anyone is here at that time) but 2 1/2 hours after I arrived this morning, again, catching up on work) and I heard a familiar sound of a plastic ball making contact with a table, a paddle, a table, a paddle. . . I almost raged! You have been here for no more than an hour and you already need a break? Are you kidding me? It took me longer to drive to work this morning than you have been here and already need a ping pong break. If you're that dedicated, maybe you should quit your job and join a league? I've included a flier in case you are interested. SOOO over it!

For My Mom!

She probably doesn't even read this trash that I write but I thought I would post this anyway - a tribute to mom's everywhere, but especially mine. I don't know why I found this so amusing, but I did!

It finally happened. . .

What kind of world would take two kids away from their underwear-missing, head-shaving, alcohol-drinking, millionaire mom and give them to their corn-row-wearing, white-boy-rapping, gold-chain-sporting, dead-beat dad? THIS kind of world!!!

http://omg.yahoo.com/spears-ordered-to-give-kids-to-federline/news/2792

Sorry Britt. . . you lost. And bad. You lost to K-Fed which really, says absolutely nothing for you. You have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting in comparison to the sickest person alive! Ok, the second sickest.

Who would have thought?

Knee-jerk makes you a plain jerk.

There is an interesting phenomenon (or shall I say disease) floating around the office lately and it's called the knee-jerk reaction. Something happens that management thinks is catastrophic and could end our very existence (can you hear the circa 1950's horror movie music because I can), when in reality, it isn't something that a good scouring of Monster.com couldn't solve, and they react. . . immediately. Without fail, this produces a crappy decision and therefore crappy outcome that will inevitably piss everyone off.
Good work. Way to make out working environment even less appealing by adding another bad decision to the roster. Word of advice? Maybe let the dust settle after these little events before decisions are made? Just a thought. But what do I know. . .

Keith. . . Be Still My Heart or Counterfeit Country?

I've developed the new, rather expensive hobby lately of going to concerts. In fact, I've made it a goal to one day be able to say 'I saw them in concert once!' to whichever music star's name makes it's way into everyday conversation. My friend Natalie has given me something to reach for - she's seen everyone. . . and I'm not kidding. You name it, she's purchased a ticket. Her repertoire includes the last two concerts I've been to; she attended both Justin Timberlake (shameless plug: best show in the history of the world. I'm sorry, but I can't get over it. He puts all other concerts to shame - even ones that I L-O-V-E-D before. JT wins. Hands down. But rather than blog about my undying love, I'll let you read/view Steph's thoughts as mine are a giant ditto!) as well as last night's soiree with none other than Keith Urban.

Brother Urban (haha) made his way to the Energy Solutions Arena for a rousing, Aussie-filled night of music and jamming on his guitar. The lights, the sound, the GIANT digital screen behind him made my night. Those teeth, that hair. . .Plus, he wasn't looking too shabby in his much-too-tight black t-shirt and jeans. No complaints.

My dad always jokes with me about loving 'goat-roping' music. . . which I must say, I do. I'll jam to Garth or Tim at any point in the day, I'm not afraid. But this very statement (plus some prodding from a certain cowboy I was with) actually made me question the validity of Keith's "countryness" throughout the night. Music on country radio, check. Banjo present in songs, check. House in Nashville, check. Tight jeans, check. But then I started seeing the issues. . .

Long, straight, luscious locks that HAVE to be flat-ironed, not country. Rocker t-shirt, not country. Sweat band on his wrists, not country. Tribal tattoos, not country. Slammin' guitar riffs that extend a song by about five minutes, not country. What was happening.

Now I'm at a loss. . . is Keith Urban truly the country hottie that I've always admire or is he simply a country impostor dressed as a hot man? Here's a couple of clips from the tour - you decide for yourself. I'm torn. One shows rocker Keith and the other, a more subdued, country side. Still adore him so don't think by any means that this will change any time soon, but I just don't know how to categorize this Aussie Hottie anymore?? Country Cowboy or Bon Jovi poser?

(fyi, these aren't my videos but you get the point)

And FYI. . .

Oprah trumps everybody on this game and Jada Pinkett Smith trumps nobody. They are the Ace and the three of Celebrity face-off (I say three because sometimes deuces are wild!!).

Celebrity Face-Off

A while ago, Natalie blogged about the most addicting game ever (btw Nat, you are correct!) that pins celebrity against celebrity to see who is the most "celebrityish" - that's right, it's a coined phrase. Ok, it asks who is most famous.
I may officially have a beef with this game. . . even though I was pleased with the outcome because I am in L-O-V-E with the winner, I still am not sure of the accuracy. . .

Contestants, to your stations.

On the left we have the Footlooser himself, Kevin Bacon. No commentary needed.

On the right, we have the man, the myth, the legend of all things pop and hot dancing, Justin Timberlake (who, may I add, I will be seeing in concert in 30 short hours).







I know that even MY intro for Justin was better (mainly because I love him), but he won the battle!?! Ever heard of a little game called Seven Degrees of Justin Timberlake? Me neither. Sorry son but I say to the back of the bus on that match-up. Nobody beats Bacon in terms of who's more famous. . . nobody.

Life's little jokes

Ever notice that you can look put together 80% of the time and never see anyone that you know but haven't seen in a while. . . but the second you are working from home and have to run to the mall really quick so you slip on some gym shorts and a grungy 'Spartan Spirit' t-shirt and don't comb your hair, you see everyone that you haven't seen in over a year and make a killer, mildly musty impression on them? They now think you are jobless and homeless. . .Funny life, funny. Good joke.

Dress Code, Part 2

Ever wonder why it is that when you look up 'cornrows' on Google images that you only see pictures of black people or white people on vacation in predominantly black countries? Do you think that it may be because white folks shouldn't wear them on a regular basis? That's my guess.


Just like K-Fed you've been caught. Corn rows in the workplace. . . hmm, interesting concept. You aren't hiding from anyone and if you wanted to, cornrows were not the way to go. Nothing will draw attention to your head like your pearly white scalp shining through those unnatural braids, my friend. Pair that up with shoulder pads in your flower jumper, and this is a loosing battle.


It's a sad day for fashion.

Guilty Pleasures

The other day I was scouring through my morning newspaper. . . ok, for me that means the 3-tabbed window brought to me by MSN and of course, the headlines so nicely sorted out on the Yahoo! homepage (really, that's all you need. Oh, and my morning dose of none other than the Today Show). . . and I found an interesting article on Guilty Pleasures. It went through and identified somethings that adults do that maybe they wouldn't want the mass public knowing about. Oddly enough, the number one guilty pleasure was watching American Idol??? How funny is that? Of all things. I guess I can see why watching a show that makes teenage girls cry and scream in shear excitement might embarrass a full-fledged adult, but come on. Where's the dirt? Where are the scandal-clad affairs, the stealing office pens, the eating after 8:00 at night? American Idol was number one?

Anyway, as most things do, it got me thinking about what my list would consist of and the fact that I should maybe blog about it. Before we get started, I'm going to need you to realize that this is NOT an easy task. I'm airing out my dirty laundry for the whole world to see, you understand? I'm about to list off the things that I do that might get me shunned - except for the fact that I am betting that you have at least one of these on your list as well. BUT, in my efforts to live on purpose, I'm doing it. . . a sort of cleansing ritual, I might say. So here we go. . .

I've decided to categorize these so that my later humiliation can be quickly referenced based on category. I am also putting a disclaimer out there that there WILL be blogs to follow on some of these items because once they are out there, there is no going back. This especially applies to the 'television' category. I know you are thinking to yourself 'What? She could humiliate herself more so than admitting to watching Hey Paula?' Oh man, you have no idea.

Disclaimers, done. Pride, gone. Fingers, ready. Let's get started.

Movies (bringing out the big guns right from the start)
I own three of the most humiliating movies of all time, bought for nostalgia sake but. . . nope, no excuses. I own them. And here they are in no particular humiliating order:

Masters of the Universe (He-Man for those of you who don't know - at least look at the list of stars, ok?)
Howard the Duck and last, but certainly not least,
Ernest Goes to Camp

Music
I have been known to jam out in my car to good tunes. . . and bad ones for that matter. Here are some songs that I car dance to that frankly, I shouldn't even admit to listening to:

Ice, Ice Baby by the one and only Vanilla
I'm Too Sexy by Right Said Fred
Proud to be an American by Lee Greenwood
Thriller by Michael
Copacabana by Barry Manilow
Rappers Delight by every rapper that was alive in the late 80's

Food
Do I like to pretend like I'm healthy sometimes? Sure. But these are some of the best, worst-thing-for-me creations known to man. I'd never eat them on a date (if I ever had one), which I think makes them a guilty pleasure.

Royal Red Robin Burger - if you thought it had bacon AND a fried egg on it, you'd be right. Don't mock it.
Breakfast burrito from the gas station down the street from my house. DON'T mock it.
McDonald's. . . enough said. No, I haven't seen 'Fast Food Nation' nor do I intend to.
Ben & Jerry's 'Everything but the. . .' ice cream

Clothing
I could wear gym clothes 24 hours a day which is why you should all thank the Lord that I have a job that doesn't allow that.

I also sometimes like to wear my old soccer socks in the morning while I get ready. Sometimes my feet are cold. They are hot pink.

Reading
Self-help books are my passion. Love them. Everything from money and business to religion. Religious ones are my favorites and just so you know, they have been for a long time - not just because I'm writing this.

The best reading on an airplane in my dark corner is People - bar none.

I have a subscription to Glamour and sometimes, I like reading the trashy articles. You know - the ones that you would flip the page on really fast if someone was looking. I read them. . . and I flip the page fast if someone is looking!

Television
Ahh, the queen of all guilty pleasures. I am telling you that you will see blogs about some of this stuff now that it's out in the open.

Watching 'My Super Sweet Sixteen' and wishing that my dad was a music mogul so that I could have had a party like that. On top of that, secretly wondering if it would be weird to have a 'Super Sweet 26'??

I watch Dog The Bounty Hunter on A&E. More to come on this little gem. I'm not even going to hyperlink it because he's getting his own blog.

Yelling at the television during 'Big Brother' and secretly wondering how I could get someone voted off.

'The Hills'. . . enough said!

Watching 'Bridezillas' and hoping that one day I can be that intense because that means I'm getting married! Ok, I just want to be that intense about anything. It could be fun.

Telling someone that 'I was flipping through the channels. . .' and saw something. It's a lie. I was full on watching whatever I saw. No flipping - watching. But I'm too embarrassed to tell you. . . until now.

'Dateline: To Catch a Predator'. I can't get enough. They should do it every week. I have a sick, unhealthy fascination with watching these dipnards cry. I love it so much because I hate them so much. I wonder if Perverted Justice is hiring??


Well, I think that's enough confessing for the. . . year. Feels good. . . until I loose some friends.