Most people know I am an extreme "list writing" person.
I make lists to (try to) stay organized but sometimes simply to stay entertained. Take note of my previous GC list post. LISTS
I've been keeping a list for about a year of random things I have overheard in Downtown Denver, Boulder & Longmont, Colorado. I've kept this list in my purse and have added to it as I've gone along. I'd like to share a few of the beauties:
* "Vote? Sheeesh. I can't even vote on what I'm gonna have for dinner."
- Gentleman's response to a voter registration team.
* "Am I ever gonna be rich? My sources tell me no. Awwww."
- Boy playing with 8-ball at Toys 'R' Us store.
* #1 "J-Lo is so rich she could buy 10 Bentleys and never go broke."
#2 "She buggin."
- Two nurses at St Luke's Medical Center.
* "The firefighters were fighting with each other. Like. And so they couldn't turn the fire off."
- Gentleman talking to friends on Main Street.
* "You're asking me to live with my sister and another woman, and I just can't do that."
- Woman talking on a cell phone in Longmont.
* "Bitch! They making me pay child support because you on mutherfucking welfare, Bitch!"
- Tattooed gentleman, and daddy, in the middle of the sidewalk.
* "Well tell me then, where have you been while this was going on. Have you been shitting in the woods?"
- A businessman using the not-so-familiar "shitting in the woods" analogy.
August 30, 2012
August 21, 2012
Foot In Mouth
Right now I’m sitting on a long conference call and if you think I’m listening, you’re right. I’m listening with my magical multitasking skills to people carry on three different conversations. I can’t tell who they’re talking to but that’s part of the fun. Are they talking to me? The wall? That crazed chinchilla in the corner, staring beadily from his hiding place inside the laptop bag?
Last week was more interesting than most because my colleague, let's call him Leotissimus, was requested to join the call. It’s not that his mere presence made it interesting because it’s generally real hard to spice up a conference call when you’re stuck on the ass end of it, listening via the telephone. It’s more that Leo has this innate ability to insert his foot square into his mouth, all the way down his esophagus where his toes wriggle around and rip a hole in his spleen. Like that one time he accidentally walked in on a woman pumping breast milk in one of his offices, right after someone had told him that a new mother was going to be using it to pump in peace. He just wanted to make sure the door was locked. Imagine her surprise.
He’s normally pretty good with the shit we give him, just like the rest of us. But nobody is immune. We all do it. We all do asinine things and later regret that our mother didn’t shoot tequila during her pregnancy because at least then we could claim mental defect.
He’s normally pretty good with the shit we give him, just like the rest of us. But nobody is immune. We all do it. We all do asinine things and later regret that our mother didn’t shoot tequila during her pregnancy because at least then we could claim mental defect.
So last Thursday I was sitting on a call with fifteen very unhelpful folks while Leo dialed in from his cove. We’d had about two hours worth of document revising when the person to my right started talking about how System X was going to communicate with System Y. During a lull in conversation, Leo popped in with, “Who was the gentleman that was just speaking?”
Pretty innocuous, right? But the call goes silent and since no one appears willing to speak up, I lean into the microphone on speaker and tell Leo that the last person speaking was Tanya, but Robert was the one a few minutes before. Leo says, “No, the gentleman. The gentleman that was just talking about System X.”
That was pretty much what I was afraid of, so I whipped out my cell phone and sent him a message that said “NOT A DUDE.”
But I’m 700 miles away and there’s probably a 2-3 second lag time between when I hit Send and when he receives his message. Three seconds that could have saved us all a lot of tension. Meanwhile he digs the hole deeper, summarizing what “the gentleman” was just talking about, just to make it clear that he wants the name. Of the gentleman. That was just speaking.
And then The Universe intervened and he finally read his text message. His response? “Oh SHIT.”
It’s a tribute to my upbringing that I kept a straight face.
August 17, 2012
Destruction
I have a little devil on my hands.
Juneau is definitely showing his personality. I'm relieved that he must feel safe and loved in his new home. His initial reluctance at embracing yet another new space seems to be a thing of the past.
The other day Juneau wanted to play longer than I had time. I kissed his furry head as I told him I needed to jump in the shower. While in there, Juneau pulled down all the towels off the hangers. The little stinker! He is SO my dog! (I have to admit, I laughed...)
I know enough about this breed to know they need to be kept busy. No one can provide 24/7 attention, but as long as they are getting enough exercise, and are given tasks to keep them occupied, they're fine. If they get bored - they will find something to do.
This spoiled dog has been given LOTS of attention so I'm sure he is testing the authority boundaries a bit. (Again, so my dog!) However, I'm aware that perhaps my boy needs a bit more to do.
2 nights ago I came home to the back screen door being torn through. He didn't eat it or scratch it, the dude plunged his way through for freedom. (A Husky was bred to pull a sled - people need to understand their instincts...)
He's not tried to escape yet, so my little Houdini had this coming.
Thankfully some neighbors retrieved him so he wasn't hurt. (phew!)
Uhhhh..... can't wait to fix this door!
Juneau is definitely showing his personality. I'm relieved that he must feel safe and loved in his new home. His initial reluctance at embracing yet another new space seems to be a thing of the past.
The other day Juneau wanted to play longer than I had time. I kissed his furry head as I told him I needed to jump in the shower. While in there, Juneau pulled down all the towels off the hangers. The little stinker! He is SO my dog! (I have to admit, I laughed...)
I know enough about this breed to know they need to be kept busy. No one can provide 24/7 attention, but as long as they are getting enough exercise, and are given tasks to keep them occupied, they're fine. If they get bored - they will find something to do.
This spoiled dog has been given LOTS of attention so I'm sure he is testing the authority boundaries a bit. (Again, so my dog!) However, I'm aware that perhaps my boy needs a bit more to do.
2 nights ago I came home to the back screen door being torn through. He didn't eat it or scratch it, the dude plunged his way through for freedom. (A Husky was bred to pull a sled - people need to understand their instincts...)
He's not tried to escape yet, so my little Houdini had this coming.
Thankfully some neighbors retrieved him so he wasn't hurt. (phew!)
Uhhhh..... can't wait to fix this door!
August 9, 2012
August 6, 2012
Lightening BOLT!
Sure, Michael Phelps is okay. But Usain Bolt is ridiculously awesome. After all, Phelps had to try to win his gold medals; Bolt simply had to show up.
Seriously, this man is a superman. And a super jackass! I mean, how infuriating must it be to the other athletes to not only be beat by the magic that is Bolt, but to be beat by someone who's so good that he doesn't even need to try. I mean, look at him! He looks like he could be lightly jogging.
Seriously, this man is a superman. And a super jackass! I mean, how infuriating must it be to the other athletes to not only be beat by the magic that is Bolt, but to be beat by someone who's so good that he doesn't even need to try. I mean, look at him! He looks like he could be lightly jogging.
Hell, he looks like he could be window shopping.
FOR OLYMPIC VICTORIES!
And I assure you, that is not sweat glistening on Bolt's face. He runs so fast sweat doesn't even have a chance to formulate. Instead, I'm guessing that's probably a new flavor of Vitamin Water (Betacarotene Bolt?) that he splashed on his face in what will end up becoming a multi-million-dollar beverage endorsement. Honestly, who wouldn't want this man to advertise their products? Puma knows what's good.
I sure as Hell know what's good!
And Bolt definitely knows what's good --- HIMSELF.
Damn, Bolt's sh*t is tight..
..
August 4, 2012
One Foot In Front Of The Other
I'm a movie quote girl.
Remember in the movie Airplane when Lloyd Bridges says he picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue? Well I thought of that quote a few days ago when I gasped my way through the end of my run workout. I picked the wrong time to get back in shape.
I've signed myself up for The Boulder Half Marathon . It's funny to me that a half marathon is a final goal when I used to do those weekly in training -- but all of us must select our goals relative to our own current fitness level. We can't live each day fantasizing about what we used to be, or had, or accomplished; we need to live in the NOW.
So there I was amid my run workout, huffing and puffing. I was red-faced, sucking wind, seeing stars, hanging on by a thread, looking incredulously at my Garmin and wondering how in God's name I could be dying when my pace near the end of a 5 mile progressive pace run was 10 seconds/mile SLOWER than my marathon pace was in my Ironman races.
If I hadn't been on the verge of nausea, I would have eaten a thick slice of humble pie.
It's the love/hate part of running. It's the mystery and the misery. The triumph and the triage. It's why we give up and lace up, over and over again.
I began to doubt that I had ever in my life run 26.2 miles. Or ever been a professional athlete. That had to have been someone else - an impostor, a stunt double, someone in the witness protection program. I could not conjure any memory of it, or fathom any possibility of it.
When we are humbled or vulnerable, old voices like to sneak back in. I heard some adolescent ghosts whisper to me that I sucked, that I was no good, that no one would ever want pathetic me, that I should stick to things I am good at doing, that other people were athletes and I was simply a clumsy oof. Ugh.
I read something about how elephants are trained. When they are young they are tied up by one ankle with a heavy chain. No matter how hard they struggle or pull against it, they cannot escape. Over time they accept this condition as their destiny and full grown elephants are able to be restrained by a wimpy little ankle chain. Anyone with eyes could see that with one tug of their mighty leg the elephant could instantly break their tether, but the elephant has no idea. The strongest animal on land dreams of freedom.
How often are we like the elephant? We are restrained by the old voices that used to define us, or we allow to still define us now. The heavy chains are nothing more than twine, easily snapped, if only we knew we had the strength.
I recently received the greatest card from my dear friend, Kristen, who has metaphorically walked by my side amid this year's unbelievably dark days. I framed it, and look at it constantly.
In the card she wrote: Keep moving forward. One foot in front of the other. Get it done. (And be careful with your heart, sweet you!)
Keep moving forward. One foot in front of the other. Start TODAY. Not tomorrow, not next month. Find a goal (to keep you motivated) and put it on the calendar. Then go get it.
I'm rooting for you too.
Remember in the movie Airplane when Lloyd Bridges says he picked the wrong week to quit sniffing glue? Well I thought of that quote a few days ago when I gasped my way through the end of my run workout. I picked the wrong time to get back in shape.
I've signed myself up for The Boulder Half Marathon . It's funny to me that a half marathon is a final goal when I used to do those weekly in training -- but all of us must select our goals relative to our own current fitness level. We can't live each day fantasizing about what we used to be, or had, or accomplished; we need to live in the NOW.
So there I was amid my run workout, huffing and puffing. I was red-faced, sucking wind, seeing stars, hanging on by a thread, looking incredulously at my Garmin and wondering how in God's name I could be dying when my pace near the end of a 5 mile progressive pace run was 10 seconds/mile SLOWER than my marathon pace was in my Ironman races.
If I hadn't been on the verge of nausea, I would have eaten a thick slice of humble pie.
It's the love/hate part of running. It's the mystery and the misery. The triumph and the triage. It's why we give up and lace up, over and over again.
I began to doubt that I had ever in my life run 26.2 miles. Or ever been a professional athlete. That had to have been someone else - an impostor, a stunt double, someone in the witness protection program. I could not conjure any memory of it, or fathom any possibility of it.
When we are humbled or vulnerable, old voices like to sneak back in. I heard some adolescent ghosts whisper to me that I sucked, that I was no good, that no one would ever want pathetic me, that I should stick to things I am good at doing, that other people were athletes and I was simply a clumsy oof. Ugh.
I read something about how elephants are trained. When they are young they are tied up by one ankle with a heavy chain. No matter how hard they struggle or pull against it, they cannot escape. Over time they accept this condition as their destiny and full grown elephants are able to be restrained by a wimpy little ankle chain. Anyone with eyes could see that with one tug of their mighty leg the elephant could instantly break their tether, but the elephant has no idea. The strongest animal on land dreams of freedom.
How often are we like the elephant? We are restrained by the old voices that used to define us, or we allow to still define us now. The heavy chains are nothing more than twine, easily snapped, if only we knew we had the strength.
I recently received the greatest card from my dear friend, Kristen, who has metaphorically walked by my side amid this year's unbelievably dark days. I framed it, and look at it constantly.
In the card she wrote: Keep moving forward. One foot in front of the other. Get it done. (And be careful with your heart, sweet you!)
Keep moving forward. One foot in front of the other. Start TODAY. Not tomorrow, not next month. Find a goal (to keep you motivated) and put it on the calendar. Then go get it.
I'm rooting for you too.
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