4.30.2005

Kung Fu Hustle

Last night, Mr. Pants and I went to see Kung Fu Hustle. It's only been open a week here, but the theater was pretty empty for the 10:10 show -- I don't know if that's a bad sign for the theater, the movie, or both...
Anyway, ohmigawd, the movie was really, really good. I've never seen anything quite like it. I thought it was just going to be a goofy, screwball comedy, like a collection of jokes just strung together, but the plot was actually really interesting. The special effects were pretty awesome, too. There's a large part of me that wants to go see this again like right now, it's that good. I'm not going to quote anything, because that would just go on way too long and leave you bored to tears, so just suffice it to say it's good.
I think Mr. Pants is going to take me out to Maiko or Mimosa tonight for my birthday. He's asking me to choose, and I'm stuck, as I've never been to either of these places before.
Wow, how boring I am... maybe I'll have something interesting to say tomorrow about tonight's dinner.

4.27.2005

Happy Birthday, Auntiepantsa!

Well, the day after my golden birthday, it is time to wish my tanta in California a happy happy! I hope she likes what I got her.

She better. Seriously.

Bitchez, Snitchez, and Ho-Mas

I was just about to write a post about how it's been really busy in here, blah blah, but something much more interesting happened.
A lemon-faced mother came storming through here, dragging her (maybe) 7 year old stoic daughter, perhaps on the way up to the gifted office? Anyway, as she came through the door, mommie dearest was yelling "No it DIDN'T. It looked NICE. Now your hair looks RATTY and GROSS." My coworker, shocked, said "what's wrong?" and the mother said "I put her hair up this morning for school pictures and it looked BEAUTIFUL. She took it down and now it looks DISGUSTING and NASTY." I mean, this girl had truly pretty long wavy blond hair down to about midback! My coworker said "No, it looks very nice, what lovely hair!" But the mother continued to freak out on her child, how could you, you look like a nasty rat, how gross, do you know how you made me look? until the elevator doors closed behind her crazy ranting ass. We've just been sitting here with our mouths agape for like 5 minutes now. People are batshit crazy, you know?

Plus, the mom was the one whose hair looked like shit. I feel for that little girl -- she had obviously dealt with this for a while. Her face was completely blank. I know that look way too well. Jesus.

4.26.2005

Happy Birthday to Me!

Yay! it's ma birfday! I'm gonna drink bacardi like it's my birthday!

Actually, I'm probably going to go home, eat dinner, watch the Amazing Race, and fall asleep hopefully early like it's my birthday, because bacardi is pretty gross and I am pretty old.

My sweet sweetie of a husband stopped by my office on his way from point A to point Q to bring me a bunch of daisies, my fave bloom. He's so frickin awesome, it makes me tear up. I put them on my desk right next to a picture of my 9 mo-old nephlet, who now looks like he's babygrinning through dense foliage. It's beautiful.

My boss took me out to lunch at Z'Tejas downtown, which was nice. I wanted to get a margarita, but didn't, because think of the children and the bad example! When I got back, there was a really pretty bouquet of a dozen roses on my desk from my friend the receptionista, who is a real peach of a dame.

Various people have been coming by to wish me a happy birthday, since it was posted on the company intranet. It's very thoughtful of them, but I just feel so awkward -- I mean, it's not like I did anything of note, just got born 26 years ago today. It's not even a fun birthday -- nothing you can do at 26 that you can't at 25.

Why am I being all bitchy and sourmopeypuss? It really is nice for these people to wish me well... a year ago, temping, nobody knew or gave two rat's asses whether it was my birthday or not. So this really is a nice change.

Thanks, everyone!

4.25.2005

Happy freakin' Monday!

Mr. Pants and I had a great weekend. A good friend from college came into town on Friday evening for one night; he works at STA now, and was in town for some kind of marketing training. We hadn't talked to him since we graduated, pretty much, so it was really fun to get caught up. Of course, this meant that we got home and went to bed at about 3 AM on Saturday; we're way too old for this shit, you know? I think I'm still recovering.

On Saturday night we rented A Day Without a Mexican, which was pretty interesting. (I would have linked to the movie's website, but it pops up a clip from the movie that just played really loudly. I wouldn't want to subject you to that.) The premise is that Californians wake up one morning, their state is surrounded by a weird pink fog, and all of the Mexicans (read: Hispanics) are gone without a trace. It's based on a 27 minute short. Neat premise; carried out fairly well, but still clunky. I give it a monkey on a scale of rat to elephant. (what? I can't make up my own grading scales now? Screw you.)

Kisses!

4.22.2005

Who's amazingly fascinating? You are!

I wanted to warn you, I run the risk of becoming so alluring and intoxicatingly fascinating that you'll never be able to stop reading. Glued to your screen, you'll read the same rants and bitches over and over again, relishing every new take I have on what it is to be a twentysomething secretary in the South, while your pets and plants wither and dehydrate, your TV throws its tube from disuse (do tvs still use tubes? Oh well), and your children marry and have children of their own.
Because I care deeply about you, I'll try to avoid this fate on your behalf. I'll tone myself down.
Therefore, listen to this complaint about my lunch.
I went to Zen Japanese Food Fast today for lunch, and it was much worse than usual. I normally stay away from their sushi, which look like it was machined by a rice pressure-molder. There's like a pound of rice in every roll.
Anyway, today I got their seaweed salad, which is usually pretty good, and their spicy shrimp bowl. The seaweed salad was really salty, and sickeningly sweet; usually it's got a nice little vinegar punch, but this time it was like they ran out of vinegar and substituted salt and sugar. Gross. The spicy shrimp bowl was blander than normal; not spicy at all, and totally filled with green onions. I don't mind some green onions, but this was ridiculous!

WAKE UP!

OK, sorry about that. Next time I'll wait to post until I have something earthshattering to share, like the pope being a big gay-bo, or 1994's Miss Puerto Rico getting arrested for shoplifting.

4.21.2005

ohmigawd why?

This sucks a bunch. I'm answering phones all day at the office -- usually I'm phone backup, but the actual receptionist took today off to to get her colon videotaped (great party viewing! Only 19.95!), so I'm tied to the front of the building. This means that I am totally chained to the front desk, with no phone backup, which of course means that I keep having to pee, like a lot. And I can't go back to the bathroom, because then what if the phone rings?

A dilemma for the ages, I know.

Answering the phones and greeting people just also makes me nervous, since even though I've had a series of secretarial jobs all the way back to high school, I'm just not cut out to be a secretary, and especially not a receptionist. Oh, I can fake it for a while, but my personality is just not that sunny; I don't have the knack for connecting with everybody who calls or walks through the door the way those really great secretaries do.

I had a horrible job for two months in the fall of 2003, where in order to wrench out my inner receptionist, my boss called in a "director of first impressions" from another office. This woman had that perfect Texas hair (blonde, streaky, and unshakeable), weighed probably less than a hundred pounds, and had a dog named Cookie she carried around in a little pink flowered bag (when they weren't mouth-kissing). I almost cried when I saw her -- there was no way I could ever live up to that stereotype of Texas perfection.

She told me that I was "acting too smart," that I needed to "practice my giggle," that my hairflip (?) needed work. My coffee-getting skillz were abysmal, my smile was too small, my tone too dry. I couldn't adjust, and was let go within the month. The relief I felt -- oh my god. Do you know how hard it is to act stupid?

At least here, I get to hide from the view of the general public behind a weirdly slatted wall, so when I greet people they jump, surprised, then their eyes dart around suspiciously, looking for the source of the disembodied voice. So that's fun! Plus, I know how to answer the phone with a goddamned smile in my voice and crap, so it's not too bad.

This poo is COLD.

Well, I didn't get to watch my antm yesterday, so don't you go telling me wha' happen. Mr. Pants and I had to go to a couple of B3st Bies to get his ass a new femputer, since his punked out on us last week, comitting hara-kiri by fracturing its own motherboard. I think it was tired of our cat infested home, but maybe it was the thought of losing our finally-moving-out-roomate, who lovingly peed all over it while we were gone for Thanksgiving.

All right, he didn't pee on it; just spilled a full glass of water, that's all. Youda thunk he did pee on it, though, from the laptop's reaction. "WAAAA! I need a new KEYBOARD! You suck! WAAAA!" (Is it odd for me to anthropomorphize a laptop? Nah.) So, lord knows if the fact that our house apparently doubles as a preschool activity funtime location had anything to do with the death of the computer.

Regardless, Mr. Pants now has an incredibly sexy new Sony Vaio FS550. Seriously, it's hot. I haven't had the chance to play around with it much yet, but I know he's really relieved that he's got a machine for work.

It for now -- both of my bosses are here today and I'd hate to have them stumble upon me cursing at my computer.

4.20.2005

ANTMWTF?

I'm so very excited now, because America's Next Top Model is on tonight. It's become my horribly guilty pleasure. I've gotten Mr. Pants to watch a lot of reality shows with me, but he's more into the quality ones -- he's drawn the line somewhere just this side of my new favorite celebration of tiny-booty-hos.

Anyway, ANTM. (See, I'm in the know now, having watched all of the episodes this season. Screw you, old-skool watchers! I know this is season 4, and I may be a little late, but I can still use the acronym if I want to!) Tyra is so kewl, and Janice is somehow simultaneously a freakshow and my new role model. I'm not sure how that works, exactly. I'm waffling on who I'm rooting for right now -- see, it's become a big rooting-against fest for me. I guess... Go, Naima! Oh well -- au revoir, bitches!

Ah, freedom!

Heyla!
I've been sharing a blog with my husband for the past couple of months, and I've decided I need space of my own. So, this is MINE ALL MINE and I'm not sharing. yay!