I guess I like a man with a potty mouth

I'm sure I'm a little late coming to the table on this, but I have a newfound celebrity crush: Anthony Bourdain. Found myself watching some sort of Bourdain marathon on the Travel Channel - No Reservations followed by Layover. And I think I'm in love.

Mind you, he's not all that attractive. His teeth are kind of jacked up. And he's totally gone gray. And he's kind of an a**hole. And I like it.

I loved the show Kitchen Confidential based on his life (plus it starred a pre-Sexiest Man Alive Bradley Cooper), but never really got the Bourdain-ness aside from brief douchebag appearances on Top Chef. Consider me converted, motherf*&#ers.

Internet porn and other Christmas tales

Back from a festive Christmas in Colorado. Some highlights:

*I made TWO casserole dishes, both of which were crowd-pleasers and only one of which almost caught the oven on fire. (Mini-marshmallows: who knew they were so flammable?!)

*Played in the snow - even did a cartwheel. Although I think I pulled something.

*Helped Nana with her iPad. Showed her how to pull up Youtube videos - Whitney Houston videos, in particular - and then the next time my uncle opened it up, PORN. So everyone thought I had been looking at it. Thanks a lot, Youtube.

*Grew a "magic Christmas tree" that my brother and his wife got me - and whatever the hell was in that water ate through my grandmother's marble table. Impressive.

*Got hit on by the guy cooking on the hibachi at Genghis Grill in Denver. His "move"? Flipping one of my pieces of broccoli behind his back and catching it on the plate. What a stud.

*And officially fell in love with Denver. Just sayin'.

might need to rethink the packing situation

headed to colorado today for christmas, and made the mistake of checking the weather this morning. -3. granted, it's early, but damnation that's cold. and it sucks to pack for that kind of weather - bulky sweaters take up so much room in the suitcase, but then again i don't want to wear like four sweaters to the airport because i'll pass out from heat stroke...here's hoping my nana has some nice cableknit pullovers i can borrow to stave off frostbite.

My gift to you

Some of you may already know about this gem, but if not, I ask you to please call 719-26-OATES. Do it now. And happy holidays everyone!

Just a quick question

Does Mannheim Steamroller scare anyone else a little bit? Or is it just me?

Nice, but sad

A "regular" at the gym brought like 5 dozen breakfast tacos to the gym this morning in honor of his own birthday. Thoughtful, yes. A bit odd/sad, also yes. And breakfast tacos kind of defeat the whole purpose of going to the gym in the first place. But I still took one home. Don't want to be rude...

I'll never let go, Jack.

So they're re-releasing Titanic next year. You know, because it didn't make enough money the first time around (15 years ago!!), and James Cameron knows he can hit a new tween population who is unaware of the Leo factor, being blinded by the Biebs. Wise man.

I have to admit, I saw Titanic not once, not twice, but SIX times in the theater. (Plus countless times at home.) That's like 20 hours of my life. But totally worth it. I'm sorry. Gotta hand it to the iceberg - helluva performance.

Medic...

Every year I watch the White Rock marathon, and more often than not it inspires me to run it myself. And then I get hurt. Since I don't run, it happens pretty quickly after I decide to do this.

To backtrack, I have run the marathon before. Back before the dawn of time, er, iPods - just to give you an idea of how long ago this was. Yep, I ran 26.2 miles with a damn fanny pack on, holding four mixed tapes I made to run to. And immediately after I started running, the tapes unwound and I was stuck listening to the damn radio for four and a half hours. So I completed the race, checked "marathon" off my bucket list, and promptly hung up my running shoes. No runner's high for this gal. Planned never to run again unless I was being chased.

Until late 2009. I had been fired and was pretty bored and bummed out. Watched the adorable American (well, technically born in Africa, but now an American citizen) win the NYC Marathon, and decided to run it again. Mind you, this was November 1. I had 6 weeks to train. Sure. So I started running (at least, on the weekends. I really hate running!). 9 miles. 12 miles. 18 miles. And then my hip got all jacked up. Yep, early 30s. Hip problems. Sigh. So I decided to just run the half. Which still wasn't exactly a cakewalk. But I think my body was like UM NO on the 26 miles. Ain't happening.

And here we are again. Got inspired to run the half again. Ran 6 last week and didn't want to die. Upped it to 9 yesteday. Didn't want to die. Until about an hour afterwards when my hip started to ache. And now I'm limping. Just not sure it's worth it. But I do like the medals for finishers...I know, I know - "my precious." So not sure what I'm going to do. Have until March to decide...it's all fun and games until I need a hip replacement at age 35. Stay tuned.

Ah, the generation gap

I've mentioned that my team at work consists of girls MUCH younger than me. The sweet 23-year-old bought "Overboard" for the white elephant party and of course has never seen it. (Don't worry - I think my five-minute synopsis complete with PeeWee-voiced "I like it when she goes ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba" will suffice.)

I found the elusive John Denver and the Muppets video clips on YouTube (thanks Chris) and sent her the 12 Days of Christmas link. Her comments were classic:
"Who is the guy singing?" (embarrassing side note: used to name John Denver as my favorite singer, circa 1984.)
"Who is the one with the snout?" Alarmingly, I thought she couldn't identify Miss Piggy - but equally alarming, she didn't know who Gonzo was.
"Is that Kermit's baby?" Um, no. Nephew Robin. What is WRONG with this generation.
And finally, "Are they all frogs?" Dear god. I'm buying her the complete set of Muppet movies for Christmas. If I can change one life...

Holiday cards

Tis the season - every time I open my mailbox, nestled amid the random coupons and bills are one or two holiday cards from friends, with photos of their beautiful families. I am very tempted one of these years to send a card out myself. Picture it: among all the lovely photos of smiling children and glittering trees, you get a card with my face stamped on it. Just me, solo. Slightly egotistical, I guess - but accurate. I can't even send out a cute pet card since I don't have pets. But man, I have a nice balcony view. Maybe me on my balcony. I would even go so far as to rock a Santa hat. Just spitballing here. Look for something awesome in your mailbox, circa December 2012. Save me a spot on your fridge.

Christmas TV specials

Can't turn on the TV this month without seeing some sort of Christmas special. There are old ones, new ones, and then a few classics that for some reason no longer air. A few musings:

The Old

• A Charlie Brown Christmas is still such greatness. Particularly watching how bizarro each of the Peanuts gang dances.
  


• Can't really watch anything claymation anymore (sorry, Rudolph and the Island of Misfit Toys) - it's honestly a bit creepy.



• Am I a horrible person to admit that I've never seen It's A Wonderful Life? I mean, I know it's on every year. But so is the Jerry Lewis telethon, and I don't watch that, either.



• Of course A Christmas Story. And my favorite movie of all time, Christmas Vacation.

The New

• Does Elf count? Who cares. It's fantastic. As is Bad Santa. Four Christmases is NOT.



• The South Park episode featuring Stan singing about being a lonely Jew on Christmas.



• Most of the new specials don't really do it for me. Probably because I'm not six. But there's also the risk of overkill. A Scooby-Doo Christmas! A Flintstone Christmas! (yes, I flipped past the Cartoon Network the other day)



• Plus the one million Lifetime TV Christmas movies. We get it.
  

The M.I.A.

• Christmas Eve on Sesame Street is a tear-jerker. At least it is for me. Big Bird gets lost and almost freezes to death trying to wait up for Santa. When I was four, that was slightly traumatizing. (And yes, it still makes me cry. Because I have it on VHS. Which is sad for many reasons.)



• There used to be a John Denver and the Muppets Christmas special. Not the CD - we own about 8 copies of that as a family - but a TV show. And dammit to hell if I have never been able to find it. Assuming the copy we had on Betamax back in the day is unusable at this point.

Here's hoping you have your own "a very special Christmas episode" which will air in reruns for years to come. We'll be right back after these messages.

I love my dead gay son!

(Props to those who identified the title of this post as a classic quote from "Heathers.")

I guess it was inevitable. Last week, a close family member asked if I was gay. (Well technically, they asked if I liked kissing boys, but that's a slippery slope right there.) Stunned, I vented to friends about it, and a few other single girls have had similar experiences with their families. WTF - I guess older generations figure there's no other possible reason ladies in their 30s are still single. Well, here's one: I refuse to settle. (And there are obviously a myriad of other reasons, but I don't have the energy or enough alcohol to get into them here.)

So in closing: I am not gay. Just picky. (Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

Just read it for the articles

I keep hearing about Lindsay Lohan's spread in Playboy and wondered - is that where the term "magazine SPREAD" comes from? Because it sure is accurate, at least in Playboy...

But also, ew, LL. I remember in college when Playboy was recruiting on campus for their "Girls of the ACC" edition. A girl I worked with at Macaroni Grill was in it, and of course she brought in a copy for all to see. And I have to say...meh. Not all that impressive. And no, I'm not just jealous. Really.

The fuglier the better

Tonight I'm hosting my second annual Fugly Christmas Sweater Party. Thank goodness there are websites devoted to selling these things, since I was never one for wearing Christmas sweaters (unless you count the 80s, when I was too young to know any better and, well, it was the 80s). There IS a lady at work who has been wearing very festive sweaters all week - it was all I could do not to tell her about my party. I guess if you're a fan of the holiday sweater, you don't appreciate others gathering around to make fun of you. Unless you see it as "the more sweaters the better, regardless of the reason..."

Photos to come, but I plan on donning my gay apparel to the MAX: we're talking turtleneck, sweater vest, scarf, and, after a few glasses of nog, an elf hat. And I wonder why I'm still single.

Ring don't mean a thing

I heard on the news last week that the Mavericks haven't received their championship rings yet because Mark Cuban wants to consult with them on the design and he couldn't talk to them due to the lock-out, blah blah.

Well, the lock-out is now over, and may I suggest that the Mavs order something similar to the above, that covers multiple fingers like brass knuckles? Picture it: instead of "Bad," it says "MAVS," all blinged out in diamonds and rubies. Just sayin'. This could start an NBA trend.

Sigh

I got an email yesterday from our Benefits department about some new policy affecting those who are turning 35 and their spouses. So I wrote back, asking "what if I'm turning 35 and don't HAVE a spouse??" The answer: "Then you are exempt." Story of my life.

I guess it could have been worse, though - she could have responded with "Well that's just sad" or something.

Unfair to the izzo

Have two (suite) tickets and a parking pass to tonight's Kanye/Jay-Z concert - and since my dept raffles them off, I'm ineligible. Which really sucks - I would be all OVER some Watch the Throne action. Someone did burn me the CD a few weeks ago in an effort to sway the judges...so yes, freely admitting that I accept bribes. I got 99 problems but a bribe ain't one. Yep, that just happened.

The nekkid truth

A phrase commonly heard around my house growing up was "naked as a jaybird." (Actually, it WASN'T that often - we weren't nudists - and to be more accurate, it was more like "nekkid as a jaybird" with the Texas twang. Classy.)

I thought about this phrase the other day - it really doesn't make any sense. How is a jaybird any more "naked" than any other species of bird, or any other animal in general?

One that makes more sense but thinking about it as an adult is slightly jarring: "skin the cat!" My grandmother used to say this when we would raise our arms and she would pull off our clothes to get into the tub or get ready for bed. (Seriously. We weren't nudists. These are just two unrelated stories involving a lack of clothing.) I did as I was told back then, but ew - skinning a cat is gross and not exactly PETA-friendly.

Maybe I can just blame it on the South. They do all kinds of things down here that don't really make sense. Except for sweet tea. Now THAT is genius.

finally shaved my movember moustache.

and you're welcome.

Just something to be aware of

I have previously mentioned the dangers of sneezing while driving. But I discovered a new one this morning: sneezing while applying mascara. Besides the chance of poking myself in the eye, holy raccoon eyes, people. Yikes.

(And yes, one would think upon feeling a sneeze coming on, I would put down the mascara wand. But one would be wrong.)

Bowl me over

Office bowling tournament last night. Apparently this is an annual tradition and people get VERY into it. Everyone wore costumes to coordinate with their team name, and many MANY beers were drunk. The team names were actually quite clever:

The Lane Deer (all wearing reindeer antlers and blinking red noses)

The Incredibowls

Like, Totally Spare Me (80s theme)

The Pin-guins

Etc.

I wasn't consulted on our team name ("The Strike Steady Crew"??!!), but hopefully next year can prove my strengths lie in coming up with this crap (Helloooo, "Empire Strikes Back" - only if I get to be Princess Leia). As opposed to my actual bowling skills. Which are few and far between. (I did get a strike - but it was during practice. Sigh.)