Chris and I won tickets for a preview showing of the new Hulk movie…but before describing that experience, I find it necessary to mention three things.
1.) Because of the high cost of housing, San Diego is densely populated by the ‘Intensely creative/experimental/artistic 30 year old who still lives with his or her mother’ crowd.
2.) They were all at last night’s showing.
And
3.) This BLOG is not in any way intended to insult the Comic-Con fans… I understand I am not at the pinnacle of coolness – after all, I do own and regularly use my library card and up until last year, I lived with my mother.
Chris left me in the movie line while he ran off to find us some dinner.
The guys behind me were involved in a heated discussion about Liv Tyler’s first movie role. The loudest of the group kept accidentally poking me with the disheveled items protruding from his fanny pack… or at least that’s what I hope was poking me with…
It wasn’t until halfway through their debate about how many times you can use the words, San Diego Comic-Con, in a sentence before it becomes grammatically incorrect that I realized…
I had to write this entertaining conversation down.
So I pulled out a pen and paper and discretely began taking notes.
Among my favorites…
They referred to the Lord of the Rings 62 times. Seriously, I started getting writers cramp from making the hash marks.
They argued that the laws of physics shouldn’t be broken in a movie unless it’s somewhat believable… like ‘the force’. The Force is believable?!?!?
They ‘did a little Wikipedia research’ about Ed Norton before coming to the show. Who knew he spoke Japanese?
They played a round robin game of movie trivia. Most of the answers I didn’t know… and I’m an honor grad… with a Bachelor’s in Film. Shoot.
And, they all met in an online gaming chat room. Uhhh.
As Chris arrived with our pizza, I stashed the notes in my purse before he could catch me red handedly being nosy, and I happily ate the greasy goodness. While he ate, he stared off into the distance and I realized he was as fascinated with the crowd as I was. Suddenly he asked, ‘Would you like me to hold your pizza while you get your pen?’
‘For what?’ I asked.
‘To take notes for your BLOG’ he said seriously.
I am too predictable.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Monday, June 9, 2008
Sorry…
My updates have been few and far between lately. The last few weeks have been a bit hectic. I’ll be back in the swing of things this week.
This weekend was a long one.
Chris graduated…
Jeremy graduated…
Casey graduated…
Josh graduated…
And…
Kelli had a birthday.
Words escape me today so here are some photos instead.
Oh, and mommy dearest, we were not drinking celebratory Patron Silver shots – we simply all had very small water glasses.
This weekend was a long one.
Chris graduated…
Jeremy graduated…
Casey graduated…
Josh graduated…
And…
Kelli had a birthday.
Words escape me today so here are some photos instead.
Oh, and mommy dearest, we were not drinking celebratory Patron Silver shots – we simply all had very small water glasses.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Ohhh brothers…
I’ve got three brothers. Three brothers who spent their lives embarrassing me. Well, James doesn’t count. I think I embarrassed him WAY more than he embarrassed me.
Like the time James bought me a Strawberry Daiquiri at Dick’s Last Resort for my 21st birthday.
I asked the server to take it back because it was too strong.
The server ripped it out of my hands, drank a sip, slammed it back on the table, said ‘No it’s not’, and then promptly walked away.
I listened as James told everyone he was my ‘Handler’ and was paid to watch me.
OK, so maybe it was only John and Mike who embarrassed me – and I thought it would stop when they were older.
I was wrong.
Yesterday I washed all my…unmentionables. I usually set them on my bed to dry under the ceiling fan but I was in the middle of making my bed so I set them across my desk (makes you think twice before asking to use my internet doesn’t it?). I guess that would have been fine… if Mike hadn’t come home… and used the internet…with one of his friends.
Mike simply picked up the stack and moved them onto my bed – and no, he didn’t attempt to cover them up but he assured me his friend didn’t notice them.
Sure his little buddy didn’t notice the stack of 20 or so girlie underoos.
Dude, it’s kinda hard to miss the florescent pink polka dots.
I guess I could have recovered but we all went to the Padre game last night and Mike brought his little friend along. All I could think was, ‘That guy has a pretty good idea of what I’m wearing. Eww!’
I guess I can be grateful; after all, it wasn’t my ‘other’ underwear. I’ve got some undergarments that make Granny Panties look risqué.
Thanks mom, those Christmas gifts are fantastic by the way.
Padres lost last night. Surprise. Riiiight. But San Diego has a beautiful ballpark and it’s always a fun place to be win, or… lose frequently.
Stupid Cubs.
Also, we played Quelf for the first time this weekend. All I have to say is, if you want to play the weirdest game of your life, play Quelf.
An example of the tasks?
Casey did a rain dance, Kelli had to build a fort with blankets, Mike had to clap three times and say ‘Abracadra’ each turn, I had to say ‘Word’ when I agreed with someone, Chris had to wear the game box under his shirt and shuffle his feet, Beth had to be the game waitress and serve everyone, and Zach had to get tickled.
Like the time James bought me a Strawberry Daiquiri at Dick’s Last Resort for my 21st birthday.
I asked the server to take it back because it was too strong.
The server ripped it out of my hands, drank a sip, slammed it back on the table, said ‘No it’s not’, and then promptly walked away.
I listened as James told everyone he was my ‘Handler’ and was paid to watch me.
OK, so maybe it was only John and Mike who embarrassed me – and I thought it would stop when they were older.
I was wrong.
Yesterday I washed all my…unmentionables. I usually set them on my bed to dry under the ceiling fan but I was in the middle of making my bed so I set them across my desk (makes you think twice before asking to use my internet doesn’t it?). I guess that would have been fine… if Mike hadn’t come home… and used the internet…with one of his friends.
Mike simply picked up the stack and moved them onto my bed – and no, he didn’t attempt to cover them up but he assured me his friend didn’t notice them.
Sure his little buddy didn’t notice the stack of 20 or so girlie underoos.
Dude, it’s kinda hard to miss the florescent pink polka dots.
I guess I could have recovered but we all went to the Padre game last night and Mike brought his little friend along. All I could think was, ‘That guy has a pretty good idea of what I’m wearing. Eww!’
I guess I can be grateful; after all, it wasn’t my ‘other’ underwear. I’ve got some undergarments that make Granny Panties look risqué.
Thanks mom, those Christmas gifts are fantastic by the way.
Padres lost last night. Surprise. Riiiight. But San Diego has a beautiful ballpark and it’s always a fun place to be win, or… lose frequently.
Stupid Cubs.
Also, we played Quelf for the first time this weekend. All I have to say is, if you want to play the weirdest game of your life, play Quelf.
An example of the tasks?
Casey did a rain dance, Kelli had to build a fort with blankets, Mike had to clap three times and say ‘Abracadra’ each turn, I had to say ‘Word’ when I agreed with someone, Chris had to wear the game box under his shirt and shuffle his feet, Beth had to be the game waitress and serve everyone, and Zach had to get tickled.
Monday, June 2, 2008
CAN YOU PLEASE STOP THIS BUS!!!!...
A friend of mine invited me to attend a showing of Wicked at the Pantages Theater in Hollywood. She had purchased the tickets through an employee event at our local – and very successful - utility company and they were taking luxury busses up to LA for the show. I decided to go for two reasons:
1. Shows at the Pantages Theater are unforgettable
2. I thought it prudent to network with the rich and famous in the event I find myself jobless in a few months.
I arrive at my friend’s house and hop in the backseat of the car with her family. Not 30 minutes into the car ride, I find myself… completely and totally car sick.
Hoping for the best, we arrive at the bus stop where I was granted a front seat – much to the dismay of the bus driver. I think he wanted a little more space between him and my little green face.
27 ½ minutes into the bus ride… I can no longer hold my… my…uh… ‘excitement’ and make a run for the bathroom. Just my luck, the bus driver had removed the door handle because he didn’t want anyone to use the bathroom. A kind gentleman, seeing my state, quickly ran to the front of the bus in search of a door handle. Heads peeked around the chairs to look at me – most likely calculating their odds of being in the ‘splash zone’.
Top 3 signs that I was more than merely sick:
1. When the friendly gent went to find the door handle, I sat with my head on my knees on the dirty floor of the bus and didn’t think of germs. I was also wearing a skirt – fortunately with shorts underneath (See! I told you that would come in handy one day!)
2. After finally getting into the bathroom, the only thing that separated my arms from the nasty toilet seat was a solitary sheet of single ply toilet paper… and I didn’t care (I showered in Clorox upon returning home).
3. There was a cockroach in the toilet and on the floor and I said, “Hello” instead of screaming (Screaming took too much energy)
20 minutes after returning to my seat, I realized I could not finish the trip and begged the driver to let me off the bus. In his excitement (or bad judgment) to rid himself of the retching red headed mess, he exited freeway in San Clemente and turned the bus into oncoming traffic.
Terrified, he sat unmoving in the middle of the busy lanes.
This would have been a good time to pull out my trusty camera and photograph the last images I would ever see before dying but… bending to reach for my purse caused such violent heaving I simply said, ‘Oh Geez!’ and braced for impact.
The cars swerved around us like a fast moving river current. Meanwhile, all I could think was, ‘Damn my front window view’.
Three stoplights facing oncoming traffic later, the bus driver snapped out of his funk and drove over the concrete median (scraping the bottom of the bus causing the metal/concrete grinding to scream… wait… I think that may have been the passengers screaming. I was too busy heaving to notice the difference).
I was dropped off in a half deserted Sears Outlet parking lot but I could tell there were a few other passengers tempted to join me based on the bus driver’s recent performance.
In Sears, I volleyed between the chairs in the shoe department and the women’s restroom for the better part of an hour until Mike arrived to pick me up.
Needless to say:
A.) I won’t be riding on a bus in the near future.
B.) I wasn’t very successful in networking.
1. Shows at the Pantages Theater are unforgettable
2. I thought it prudent to network with the rich and famous in the event I find myself jobless in a few months.
I arrive at my friend’s house and hop in the backseat of the car with her family. Not 30 minutes into the car ride, I find myself… completely and totally car sick.
Hoping for the best, we arrive at the bus stop where I was granted a front seat – much to the dismay of the bus driver. I think he wanted a little more space between him and my little green face.
27 ½ minutes into the bus ride… I can no longer hold my… my…uh… ‘excitement’ and make a run for the bathroom. Just my luck, the bus driver had removed the door handle because he didn’t want anyone to use the bathroom. A kind gentleman, seeing my state, quickly ran to the front of the bus in search of a door handle. Heads peeked around the chairs to look at me – most likely calculating their odds of being in the ‘splash zone’.
Top 3 signs that I was more than merely sick:
1. When the friendly gent went to find the door handle, I sat with my head on my knees on the dirty floor of the bus and didn’t think of germs. I was also wearing a skirt – fortunately with shorts underneath (See! I told you that would come in handy one day!)
2. After finally getting into the bathroom, the only thing that separated my arms from the nasty toilet seat was a solitary sheet of single ply toilet paper… and I didn’t care (I showered in Clorox upon returning home).
3. There was a cockroach in the toilet and on the floor and I said, “Hello” instead of screaming (Screaming took too much energy)
20 minutes after returning to my seat, I realized I could not finish the trip and begged the driver to let me off the bus. In his excitement (or bad judgment) to rid himself of the retching red headed mess, he exited freeway in San Clemente and turned the bus into oncoming traffic.
Terrified, he sat unmoving in the middle of the busy lanes.
This would have been a good time to pull out my trusty camera and photograph the last images I would ever see before dying but… bending to reach for my purse caused such violent heaving I simply said, ‘Oh Geez!’ and braced for impact.
The cars swerved around us like a fast moving river current. Meanwhile, all I could think was, ‘Damn my front window view’.
Three stoplights facing oncoming traffic later, the bus driver snapped out of his funk and drove over the concrete median (scraping the bottom of the bus causing the metal/concrete grinding to scream… wait… I think that may have been the passengers screaming. I was too busy heaving to notice the difference).
I was dropped off in a half deserted Sears Outlet parking lot but I could tell there were a few other passengers tempted to join me based on the bus driver’s recent performance.
In Sears, I volleyed between the chairs in the shoe department and the women’s restroom for the better part of an hour until Mike arrived to pick me up.
Needless to say:
A.) I won’t be riding on a bus in the near future.
B.) I wasn’t very successful in networking.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
10 Facts about me...
I was tagged by Ashmystir to share 10 weird, random facts, habits, goals, what have ya, about me… so here they are.
1. I trained in kickboxing from an Olympic Trainer. I didn’t realize no one knew about my kickboxing until talking to our favorite Brewmaster at SeaWorld who is a boxer. I asked him if he bled between his knuckles like I did to which Casey responded… ‘You kickboxed?!?!’ then Beth followed it with, ‘Lets go to a dark alley. I wanna see you fight.’
2. I hate my hair. Always have, always will. When people say, ‘Your hair looks pretty!’ (It’s a rare compliment but it happens… when people forget their glasses or contacts) I refrain from saying, ‘It took me 6 hours to get it this way.’
3. My workout tunes haven’t changed since I was 18. Janet Jackson, Britney Spears, and Justin Timberlake still fill my iPod. When someone asks what I’m listening to, I lie and say Death Cab for a Cutie or Gun’s and Roses. I don’t listen to either but I’d die if anyone heard the 5th repeat of ‘Oops I did it again’ blaring from my earbuds.
4. I hate tip jars. Especially tip jars at fast food places where I go to the counter, order the food, fill up my soda, and pick up the bag when it’s ready. I don’t tip McDonald’s so I’m certainly not tipping the Berto’s Mexican Food shops or Starbucks for *gasp* doing their job. And yes Mz. Barista, I notice the look of disgust on your face when I put the change in my wallet instead of your ‘College Fund’. We all know it’s actually a beer fund.
5. God didn’t give me particularly great hair, slim hips, a stunning personality, or a tall stature but He did give me fantastic eyelashes. They are borderline freakish. The tips of my eyelashes hit my eyebrows and sometimes, I pull the mascara off the ends to make them look shorter.
6. My dream job would be travel writing. Combining my two favorite things – traveling and writing – would be heavenly but I can’t find anyone looking for an obnoxiously sarcastic, silly writer who struggles with motion sickness and is mortified of open water and strange places.
7. I wish I were a little more ethnic – that way I could have better descriptions of my physical characteristics. J.Lo’s butt is ‘Bootylicious’. Diana Ross’ hair is ‘natural’. But since I’m as white as they come, I’m just fat and frizzy.
8. I have my very own stalker. There is a girl who is interested in my brother and in her obsession, follows everything I write to check on him and his life. Even though I changed my BLOG address, she probably found this one. She’s very resourceful. Hi Jenn.
9. I read the all books on the New York Times Bestsellers list. No, I don’t read them because I want to, I read them because I want to appear ‘hip’ on the off chance that someone wants to know the plot line of ‘A Thousand Splendid Suns.’
10. I hallucinate when I’m tired. If I wake up in the middle of the night, I see things in our room. Examples: Horses, trees, couches, the Keebler Elves… I have to stop myself, focus, and say, ‘This isn’t real’. If someone broke into our house, chances are I’d stare at him, convince myself I was hallucinating, and go back to sleep while he pilfered through our drawers and stole all our cash – all 97 cents that is. Oh well, it would probably just be an angry Barista coming for his tip money or Jenn demanding to know where my brother is.
I'm tagging...
New mommy Lizard
and
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Show me some skin!...
I’m not a real open kind of gal when it comes to showing skin.
Sure I own low cut tops… but I wear them with tank tops underneath so I’m not sure that counts.
When I wear skirts, I throw on a pair of boy-shorts and a slip to ensure that in the event of a tragic windstorm, no one will see my underwear.
If I were a movie star, I wouldn’t be suffering from the same problems as Lindsey Lohan or Britney Spears. Instead of reporters saying:
‘The young starlet was seen exiting her limo… without panties’
They would say:
‘The young starlet was seen exiting her limo wearing a pair of ‘nerds kiss the best’ boy shorts featuring a cartoon photo of a freckle faced redhead with braces underneath her slip underneath her knee length skirt – but only after a hurricane force gust of wind swept by... and the starlet looked mortified.’
I’m not entirely sure where I got it from. I don’t have a mother who wears nylons under her jeans or camisoles under her neck high button up shirts or who never owned a pair of shorts….
Oh wait. My mother was all those things.
You can imagine my panic in the gym locker room in the morning. Everyone is walking around naked and all I want to scream is, ‘Look peeps, I didn’t go to public school. I DON’T shower in public!’
I would simply change in a bathroom stall but I’m a total germaphobe and can’t touch anything within a 6 foot radius of a public toilet.
I’m left to change with a towel wrapped around me and frankly… I’m not good at it and my methods tend to make people point and giggle. That could be because I stand in a back corner of lockers and shimmy my clothes on while constantly catching my towel.
Showering is over rated. I think I’m going to stop.
On a better note. We received our tax stimulus check yesterday.
Coincidence that Nordstrom is holding it’s half yearly sale at this time? I think not. I think God is trying to tell me something.
Plus, the Commander and Chief, Pres. Bush, told me to spend it. I wouldn’t disobey my grandma so why would I not listen to the guy who can have me arrested?
It’s my civic duty.
Sure I own low cut tops… but I wear them with tank tops underneath so I’m not sure that counts.
When I wear skirts, I throw on a pair of boy-shorts and a slip to ensure that in the event of a tragic windstorm, no one will see my underwear.
If I were a movie star, I wouldn’t be suffering from the same problems as Lindsey Lohan or Britney Spears. Instead of reporters saying:
‘The young starlet was seen exiting her limo… without panties’
They would say:
‘The young starlet was seen exiting her limo wearing a pair of ‘nerds kiss the best’ boy shorts featuring a cartoon photo of a freckle faced redhead with braces underneath her slip underneath her knee length skirt – but only after a hurricane force gust of wind swept by... and the starlet looked mortified.’
I’m not entirely sure where I got it from. I don’t have a mother who wears nylons under her jeans or camisoles under her neck high button up shirts or who never owned a pair of shorts….
Oh wait. My mother was all those things.
You can imagine my panic in the gym locker room in the morning. Everyone is walking around naked and all I want to scream is, ‘Look peeps, I didn’t go to public school. I DON’T shower in public!’
I would simply change in a bathroom stall but I’m a total germaphobe and can’t touch anything within a 6 foot radius of a public toilet.
I’m left to change with a towel wrapped around me and frankly… I’m not good at it and my methods tend to make people point and giggle. That could be because I stand in a back corner of lockers and shimmy my clothes on while constantly catching my towel.
Showering is over rated. I think I’m going to stop.
On a better note. We received our tax stimulus check yesterday.
Coincidence that Nordstrom is holding it’s half yearly sale at this time? I think not. I think God is trying to tell me something.
Plus, the Commander and Chief, Pres. Bush, told me to spend it. I wouldn’t disobey my grandma so why would I not listen to the guy who can have me arrested?
It’s my civic duty.
Friday, May 16, 2008
Rebekah Who?
I wasn’t a big talker in high school and there was another guy in my class who didn’t talk either. Naturally I became instantly smitten.
I was absolutely positive he liked me but I convinced myself that his shyness kept him from ever asking me out. It made me feel better.
We both graduated and moved on with our lives – I went away to college, he stayed in San Diego. Every few years I heard about him through the grapevine. I assumed he still thought, ‘I wonder what happened to Rebekah. She was a nice girl.’
Give me a break. I’m a girl. We all hope someone holds a candle for us – or at least remembers we existed.
I went to the gym last night and was on my way to the treadmill when I noticed a guy watching me. Since the gym is a total meat market, I ignored him, put on my headphones, and turned the volume all the way up. He stood up and squinted to stare at me while walking closer.
I kept thinking, Come on lame guy. Stop it.
He walked up to my treadmill, stuck his hand on it, and smiled.
‘This may seem like a really weird question…’ he began
Oh geez buddy, if this is the beginning to a lame pick up line, just keep walking
‘Do you have twin brothers?’
Oh.
‘Wait…oh my goodness. Hi quiet boy from high school!’
Of course I didn’t say, ‘Quiet boy from high school’ but I’m keeping his name private… to save my dignity.
We talked for a while and he asked how John-E and Mike were doing then said,‘I don’t really think about anyone from high school anymore. But every few years I think about…’
Me! He’s going to say he thinks about me. Aww. How sweet!
‘… your brothers. They were such cool guys.’
Gee thanks. How flattering.
‘Wait, here.’ He pulls out a paper and writes his number on it.
Sorry dude, you’re five years too late. I got married. Didn’t you hear through the grapevine? It’s totally OK to be sad about it.
‘Could you give my number to John and Mike? I’d love to get in touch with them’ and smiled.
This guy has no clue that I’m pretty much married for the long haul so hanging out with my brothers until I’m single again just isn’t going to work.
I take his number and he starts to walk away but turns around and says, ‘I’m so sorry but… what’s your name again?’
So much for a candle.
I just checked 'Vanity' off my list of vices.
It's no longer a problem.
I was absolutely positive he liked me but I convinced myself that his shyness kept him from ever asking me out. It made me feel better.
We both graduated and moved on with our lives – I went away to college, he stayed in San Diego. Every few years I heard about him through the grapevine. I assumed he still thought, ‘I wonder what happened to Rebekah. She was a nice girl.’
Give me a break. I’m a girl. We all hope someone holds a candle for us – or at least remembers we existed.
I went to the gym last night and was on my way to the treadmill when I noticed a guy watching me. Since the gym is a total meat market, I ignored him, put on my headphones, and turned the volume all the way up. He stood up and squinted to stare at me while walking closer.
I kept thinking, Come on lame guy. Stop it.
He walked up to my treadmill, stuck his hand on it, and smiled.
‘This may seem like a really weird question…’ he began
Oh geez buddy, if this is the beginning to a lame pick up line, just keep walking
‘Do you have twin brothers?’
Oh.
‘Wait…oh my goodness. Hi quiet boy from high school!’
Of course I didn’t say, ‘Quiet boy from high school’ but I’m keeping his name private… to save my dignity.
We talked for a while and he asked how John-E and Mike were doing then said,‘I don’t really think about anyone from high school anymore. But every few years I think about…’
Me! He’s going to say he thinks about me. Aww. How sweet!
‘… your brothers. They were such cool guys.’
Gee thanks. How flattering.
‘Wait, here.’ He pulls out a paper and writes his number on it.
Sorry dude, you’re five years too late. I got married. Didn’t you hear through the grapevine? It’s totally OK to be sad about it.
‘Could you give my number to John and Mike? I’d love to get in touch with them’ and smiled.
This guy has no clue that I’m pretty much married for the long haul so hanging out with my brothers until I’m single again just isn’t going to work.
I take his number and he starts to walk away but turns around and says, ‘I’m so sorry but… what’s your name again?’
So much for a candle.
I just checked 'Vanity' off my list of vices.
It's no longer a problem.
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