TWIST-FREE KNICKERS

with the fire of 1,000 suns

2010-07-16T14:48:00.003-04:00

My sister and I have started going to a trainer. Let's call our trainer Tyra the Tyrant.

We have worked out with her twice, the first time was last Saturday. The training session was 1 hour of torture. 1 hour of lingering in the 7th level of Hell. It was horrible!

During the workout, Tyra chirped as she sipped a latte, "you guys are gonna hate me!"

She was right. By the time the session was over, Shell and I were drenched in sweat, descending the stairs to the locker room with rubbery, muscle distressed legs and in a post workout fog. With every step down on the stairs I announced "I hate Tyra, I hate Tyra".

The remainder of the week was one where anytime I moved, I cried out in pain. While sleeping, everytime I rolled over, I was awakened by twinges of pain. Going up and downstairs was often done on my hands and knees. My dread of seeing Tyra again today built slowly and steadily starting on Sunday.

Today, as we walked in the parking lot of the health club I said to my sister "I wonder which car is hers, I want to go kick her tires". As we entered the building I said "I hate Tyra, she is ultimately evil". As we climbed the stairs to the gym I said "I don't want to do this, I don't want to do this".

As we started the workout Tyra was extra chirpy and perky, which made me want to pinch her. She is one of those super fit natural blondes, probably a size 2 (arrrggghhh). She began to put us through the paces, and what we had to do was a lot more fun than last week (remember it was the 7th level of Hell). I found myself not hating Tyra quite so much in the beginning of the workout. Don't get me wrong, my inner rage toward my trainer grew, but not to the epic levels of last Saturday. When she asked how the work out went today, I said "well, last week I hated you with the fire of 1,000 suns - this week, I only hate you with the fire of 950 suns, so I consider that a big improvement."

Tyra took it in stride, and laughed, as it was meant as a joke. I actually felt a little sense of accomplishment at the end of today's session. And I am not as sore as last week. I didn't totally hate it. But don't tell Tyra I said that.

What are the windows of the soul?

2010-07-13T22:45:00.003-04:00

Some say the eyes are the window to the soul. Today, I think my toes illustrate my current state of mind / soul right now.

They are blue. Just how I feel.

(BTW my eyes are blue too, so double whammy - the eyes say it too).

Make some room in the knickers drawer

2010-07-11T22:06:00.005-04:00

Today I went to the movies with a friend we will refer to as the Dancing Queen. Dancing Queen and I like to have girl time occassionally, and this week it was a lunch and the movies situation.

After a delicious lamb burger at Cafe Barbette, DQ and I headed off to "Joan Rivers - A piece of work" playing at the Lagoon Theater. Not too many people in the audience, and DQ and I were half the age of most of them.

The movie covers a year in the life of Joan Rivers, and how she is the hardest working woman in show business. Is it all business that A listers would want to do? No. But for a 75 year old, she has got a work ethic of a draft horse and the gumption of a Mary Lou Retton (remember her? She was the piston driven pixie that stole the hearts of America in the 1984 Olympics ack!). You get to see behind the scenes of her life - close ups of the results of her plastic surgery, whiffs of her desperation for ongoing relevance and fame, and see the origins of her comedic roots. She's feisty, funny, and a little bit sad.

It's an entertaining two hours that I recommend for most. Some of her jokes are a little racy, so those with the most delicate of constitutions may want to stick with the Disney fare rather than this documentary.

I give it 3 knickers out of 5.

You can ride this or you can ride that....

2010-07-10T22:03:00.001-04:00

Currently, this is my favorite commercial. I'm a sucker for any sort of animal selling something. Especially when they are decked out in street wear. These fuzzy fellows remind me very much of my second hamster, Baby Habib, which I have mixed feelings about. He was a biter, but very adorable. He liked my mother more than me, because when he would escape from his penthouse suite of his Habitrail, he would escape from the family room on the one side of the house, run through the house, and end up underneath my parent's bed on the other side of the house. He would set up shop under my mom's side of the bed, right under her head. She then would have to wake up Little Donnie who would have to capture Baby Habib and return him to his quarters in the middle of the night.

One question about the commercial - Why do boy hamsters wear shirts and no pants, and girl hamsters wear skirts and no shirts?

Okay, gotta go. Gotta work on my my soulful hamster dance moves.

I've hit the wall

2010-07-10T00:58:00.002-04:00

Oh the pressure of challenges. Why oh why did I put the pressure on myself to post every day in July? Now it makes it feel like work. Not that I should feel put out by that considering I am currently exploring the unemployment arts.

I'm not inspired, but deciding to just type whatever comes to my mind. My friend Wubbis and I would type letters to each other in typing class in high school that were free-form streams of consciousness rants and raves. Don't judge, we did our assignments and had plenty of time to spare so it was fine that we were doing these stream of consciousness documents. Usually they were single spaced, double sided letters. They were quite hilarious. Wubbis (named to protect her identity) tended to rant about the girl who sat in front of her in typing class and her smelly hair. The girl always smelled like food, and poor Wubbis was forced to inhale the aroma while typing 80 words a minute. We would pass each other the notes after classes, and then spend time in our next classes laughing at what the other said. I found one a few months ago when I was packing up my house in North Carolina, and I still laughed out loud, almost 25 years later. Typing class was totally awesome in that you didn't get homework, because most people didn't have IBM electric typewriters at home - and NO ONE had computers at home unless it was a Commodore 64 which didn't have any word processing capabilities.

I was just mentioning to someone a week ago that the class I probably got the most out of as an adult was the two semesters of Typing that Little Donnie forced me to take. I thought it was a lame decision at the time, but now I type more than anything other high school related - I mean, I spend little time on my clarinet, speaking elementary French, or reflecting on the knowledge gleaned from my Social Studies classes. Typing rules! Thank you Little Donnie!

Wow. That little post just wrote itself!

Crisis averted.

I always feel like somebody's watchin' me, and I have no privacy

2010-07-07T21:58:00.003-04:00

I'm collecting bookmarks of street fashion blogs like a hobo picking up aluminum cans. They have developed into an addiction (not to Lindsay Lohan levels, but I may need an intervention in a year or so). I find it quite fascinating how some people can really pull some doozy ensembles together and look like a million bucks.

I think it's a gift, but perhaps it can be learned. The question of nature vs. nurture is a valid one, when looking at the science/art of putting together an interesting outfit.

Here are a couple of my favorite sites that I like to check out every day.

www.hanneli.com

www.thesartorialist.blogspot.com

www.theminneapoline.blogspot.com

www.fashioni.st

Tonight I shall dream of blue ribbons....

2010-07-06T22:09:00.006-04:00

It's official.

I am going to be puttin' a mighty fine artistic entry in the State Fair! Wahoo!

I'm a little nervous. Last time I put anything artistic in a show I think I was 10 and they hung a picture I had painted up in a student gallery display at the lovely Har Mar Mall. The 1970's were much more forgiving on the creative souls of children back then. Now, everyone is a critic - with free immediate venues like Facebook, Twitter, blogs - I could be emotionally slashed to ribbons if I don't win some sort of prize. Of course, I am being a bit of a drama queen, considering the MN State Fair is one of the largest of the nation, and thousands of people enter items. So, assuming that I would be a focal point of attention is a wee bit pretentious isn't it?

Anyway, I know that it will be fun to do - Jody, Mike and I are going to have a craft day and make two items each to submit to the fair. We are each putting in an entry for stained glass design (flat) and stained glass design (vessel). Check back in a few weeks for a photo of what I end up making. Currently my vision of the flat design item will be a recreation of this:

Let's just see if that comes to fruition shall we?

A few years ago I took some pics at the fair at some of the submissions - take a gander at the caliber of competition we will be up against.

They are all magical in their way. I just hope those that view my future pieces are as generous as I in its criticism

My knickers at their 'twist-freeyist" or Missy being mighty chill...

2010-07-05T22:58:00.004-04:00

I have got another day of Cardiac care under my belt. As the TFK readers already know, my father aka Little Donnie aka IRON MAN just spent a significant bit of time in the cardiac unit of a local hospital.

Today I spent some more time, but not with IRON MAN. This time we will call today's patient Bubble Boy.

Bubble Boy has been visiting me from out of town for about a week. He came to hang out, experience the Twin Cities and chill with the chilliest chick around (me). This morning, after his shower, he asked me what the day's agenda was.

Bubble Boy: "So what is today's schedule?"

Me: "Well, 8:30 we will leave, drop off stuff at Bud's house, 9:00 we will go to the grocery store, 10:00 we will meet A & B at the yacht club, 2:00 we will come in from the lake, 3:00 we will be back at Bud's for the party, and then at the party till 9:00 PM."

BB: "Which of these things are the least important?"

Me: "Why?"

BB: "Because I'm suffering from chest pains, and should probably go to the hospital"

Me: "LET'S GO!"

Now, the Bubble Boy is healthy overall, however, at age 44, he is in his heart attack years, as I learned on Oprah years ago. I quickly got dressed, gave him some aspirin, jumped in Babs the Wonderbeetle and high-tailed it to the ER of the best cardiac hospital in town. I kept my cool, and so did Bubble Boy (he is quite mellow in his own right) and we were probably the calmest people in the hospital all day.

After a 10 hour stay, with nitro glycerin dosing, morphine injections, EKGs, X rays, blood tests and more, it was determined that he was not dying from a cardiac ailment.

Two of Bubble Boy's reactions to his situation were consistent with reaction other males that are part of my reality.

1) males think that they write the rules - example BB decided that they didn't need the 12 point EKG attachments attached to his chest anymore, and went through the process of pulling the sticky little pads off of his chest hair in anticipation of leaving the hospital. Imagine my amusement when an EKG specialist rolled in an EKG machine about 2 hours later and reapplied new sticky conductors back on to his furry chest.

2) males think that there is no reason for pain relief. Once BB found out he wasn't damaging his heart, he refused any sort of pain relievers to reduce his discomfort for his medical situation. The number of times I have heard "Pain is weakness leaving the body" from males is epic. All I am going to say is sitting in pain when it could easily be relieved doesn't increase your street cred with the ladies in any way.

I'm glad to be home, and glad BB didn't have to stay in the hospital. All in all, it turned out to be a good day.

One more public service announcement:
IF YOU ARE SUFFERING FROM CHEST PAIN - DON'T BE A HERO! GO TO THE DOCTOR ASAP! Better that it ends up being something minor, than being something bad. As the nurse said today, "It's a good thing you came in today, because we can't treat your heart attack at home".

Current Obsession - in a very Animotion sort of way...

2010-07-05T00:33:00.000-04:00

I was first introduced to The National on the Letterman show (sidebar - his little music producer person has been doing a great job getting some interesting acts lately). They are one of these bands with like 17 people in it - like having one guy that plays the maracas exclusively (an exaggerated example). They are super scruffy, look like they buy all their wrinkly, musty looking clothes by the pound, and have a tremendous sound. The lead singer's voice is hypnotic. Sorrow is my current favorite song by the band, and I will be doing further exploration of their music catalog. I suggest you do too. Give 'em a try...

What is wrong with some women?

2010-07-04T00:56:00.002-04:00

I have a confession.

I'm a picker.

Nose picker? Nope. Cherry picker? Not at all. I am a pimple picker. And not on myself, just on others.

It doesn't happen very often, but occasionally an opportunity will come along, usually on a friend with a XY chromosome, to apply pressure to a skin curiosity that provides a very satisfying result.

I know that I am not alone - lots of females are into picking. My sister is one, my friend Kristen another. I remember riding in Kristen's family motor home in the summer as a kid, her dad at the wheel with no shirt on, and Kristen standing behind him picking on skin curiosities on his upper back.

You Tube is filled with videos of people squeezing lumps and bumps and other crazy things - often with extremely gross results. My sister finds videos and forwards them to me, just to share the gross out. It's just another type of sisterly bonding.

If you are strong of stomach and can handle viewing graphic activities - type in the following search keywords on You Tube "two girls, one cyst" and feast your eyes.

It's a secret shame...but listen, I could be doing heroin or something. Don't judge me so harshly.

And I'm not talking about Robert Downey Jr. in this post...

2010-07-03T00:06:00.005-04:00

I told my friend Payam tonight that time was ticking and I needed to log a blog post before the clock struck midnight. I asked "what should I write?". He said "what was significant about today?". Hmmmm it was a jam packed day of errands, dinner with friends, shopping, movie watching, internet surfing, reading, beauty treatments and other insignificant things. When I really looked at it, one thing stood out.

The most significant of the day was realizing how I'm not ready for my parents to leave the planet.

Wow. Heavy thoughts from a silly girl huh? Well recently my dad, who going forward will be referred to as Little Donnie, gave us quite the scare. Short version of the story is that he fainted on the golf course on a hot day (really it was cardiac arrest), went to the hospital, was told he was having a heart attack, was rushed to another hospital, had a stent put in for the blockage and then ended up having a defibrillator and pacemaker put in. A lot of stuff for an active 80 year old to have going on, but he came through it like a champ.

He's out of the hospital, and can't drive for 46 more minutes(well officially in 46 minutes it's tomorrow), so my sister and I have been doing driving duty to the various things he and my mom need to go to.

Today was my job to drive to cardiac therapy at a local hospital. Cardiac therapy is like a mellow, very supportive gym that isn't a meat market and has emergency personnel available at a moment's notice. Little Donnie took his place on the recumbent elliptical machine and put in an hour long work out. Afterward, we ran an errand, going to Sam's Club. Little Donnie likes to have bagged salad and bananas on hand at the house, and of course, why wouldn't you go to a super warehouse store for those items?

While we were at Sam's Club, he told me to drive into the gas station there to fill up my gas tank on him. I felt like a teenager that just learned to drive, and my dad was making sure the tank was full before I took the car out on my own the first time.

Then inside Sam's, we walked around the store as he put stuff in the cart, and I was transported back to when I was his little helper at the home improvement store, in charge of pushing the cart.

Driving back home, and just chatting with him in the car, I realized that I haven't had my fill of conversations with him as an adult. I appreciated how fantastic he is, and how lucky we were that something bad didn't happen last Tuesday. I'm not ready for Little Donnie, or Joyce Ann (my mom) to go anywhere any time soon. Thank heavens the doctors implanted his little power source in his chest - kind of like Iron Man lite - and that it keeps on glowing (figuratively) indefinitely.

Little Donnie is IRON MAN.

Artsy Fartsy

2010-07-01T13:17:00.025-04:00

These are my friends Joe and Kristina. They are super cool, and just got married.

One of the awesome things about them is that they (Kristina especially) are crafty, and have a huge appreciation for glass art. See Joe do his best male model pose, showing off his glass cuff links worn at his wedding. Work it...work it....

I visited them in Chicago about a month before their wedding, and saw some of the fused glass pieces they had collected. Their enthusiasm inspired me to be a crafty queen and make them something out of glass as part of their wedding present. The day after their wedding they gave me a call to express their glee around the new glassy goodness I gave them. During the call Joe relayed that he didn't believe I made it myself (my friend Jody provided guidance and the kiln)so today's post is all about showing Joe that I am not a fibber!

So this is how it happened:
I had a feeling that I wanted to make a serving piece, and what colors I wanted to use. I purchased the glass, and invited myself over to Jody's house. Then I hunkered down in Jody's craft zone basement and began to plan out the piece.

My vision was a retro inspired tray with intersecting circles (hello Venn Diagrams!) and layered circles and loops

I traced my first circle on a piece of glass...

Cut the outline with a glass cutter and then used a glass pliers to break the circle free

Sooooo....no photo available of the result of freeing of the cut circle of glass, as it snapped in half. And did again the next two times I tried it.

A girl's gotta be flexible - so let's try SQUARES!

I love me some right angles!

I cut squares of varying sizes and colors, and mapped them out on the table.

Once I had my plan together, I had to wash the little sharp squares by hand. Luckily, no digits were lost.

Then it came time to glue the little pieces of glass to the base piece of glass which forms the tray.

The kiln is readied...

And I proudly carried my piece over for some serious melting (or fusing if you want to be official about it)

Happy fusing!

Much like how a BMW goes from 0 to 60 in 6.6 seconds, the kiln goes from 0 to 56 degrees in like 2 seconds flat...and then keeps going and going and going!

This ain't no easy bake oven...or maybe it is...on Planet Mercury!

After fusing for an hour or two at 1500ish degrees it's time to cool it down...
The kiln is opened, and the glass looks like this

and then when the air hits it, it gets cranky like a toddler awakened from too brief of a nap...red and rageful!

Finally after several hours, it cools itself down and has now become a flat square of fused glass.

Now it's time to give this glass some shape. Prepare the slump!

The slump is a white form made out of clay that one puts a flat piece of glass on it, and as it melts it conforms to the shape of the slump. The slump I used is a serving tray (I think officially it's called a sushi tray) that has one large rectangular space, and then 3 small square shapes beside it.

The kiln gets fired up again, brought to temperatures close to those on the surface of Mercury (it's true, I looked it up), and melted so it slumps to the shape of the form

Voila! The finished product!

See Joe? I told you I made it!

Prepare ye selves

2010-06-30T19:16:00.002-04:00

Alright people.

This is getting ridiculous. I haven't posted since April 11-ish. What sort of blogger am I? Not a very good one apparently. Perhaps Stevie Wonder could write a song about me such as "Part Time Blogger" but at this rate I am far less than a part-timer. I'm like a mini-timer, a nano-timer, an itsy-bitsy-timer - I know you get the picture.

Well this girl is extending the challenge to herself to blog every day in July, 2010.

Guess what. Challenge accepted.

See you tomorrow students!

Go ask Alice, when she's 10 feet tall

2010-04-11T23:04:00.002-04:00

I went on an acid trip.

Well, sort of.

I found out about a little southern gem called Acid Park from my hairstylist. I mentioned I was going to Wilson, NC, a small little burg an hour from Raleigh. Her eyes got big and said "You totally have to go to Acid Park!".

She then went on to share the lore of park - a story where the park/monument was created by a distraught parent whose daughter died in a car accident on the way home from prom, because she and her date had dropped acid at the park. It's filled with giant mobiles and metal structures built from scrap metal and covered in automotive reflectors. The medium of twisted scrap metal to symbolize the car which was wrapped around a tree in the accident, and the reflectors to symbolize the look of an acid trip when approaching car lights hit the explosion of light reflected back.

After my fabulous haircut (thank you Christa), I investigated Acid Park on the trusty internet. It's listed on ghost sighting websites (haunted by the former prom teen) and as a point of interest in the county. I mentioned to my pal Amy, a Wilson, NC native about Acid Park and asked if she was aware of it, and she said "Well duh, where do you think we went to drink when I was in high school?".

Amy, some of her in-laws and I set out on the back roads of Wilson to discover Acid Park. While we weren't there in the dead of night, for the optimized acid experience, we did get to see a tremendous folk art display of amazing size and complexity. It's on a corner where two country roads intersect, with NO TRESPASSING signs everywhere. What we could see from the road was pretty cool - I wished for a quick solar eclipse for a little bit of darkness, but unfortunately, my wish was not granted.

The real story of acid park is here http://www.capstrat.com/insights/blog/trippin-on-acid-park/

Feed Your Head from Missy Fisher on Vimeo.

This ain't no Pine Sol commercial

2010-04-08T18:14:00.002-04:00

Next time you talk to a pine tree, ask him to keep it in his trousers.

thanks to a Carolina pine forest from Missy Fisher on Vimeo.

Takin' it out for a test drive

2010-04-03T19:25:00.003-04:00

Some things just shouldn't be a surprise. Here, Brad takes things into his own hands to avoid a middle of the night crisis.

pillow test drive from Missy Fisher on Vimeo.

It won't be long till I get my Hover-round

2010-03-31T15:04:00.002-04:00

You know you are old when you are captivated by a tree in your backyard.

I must be 104.

Pretty Tree from Missy Fisher on Vimeo.

VW Diaries, Vol. 1

2010-03-25T09:01:00.002-04:00

A girl gets bored and lonely on a long drive. What better way to entertain oneself than talking to a video camera? I had my trusty Flip camera on it's new little tripod on the expansive dash of my Beetle, turned it on and then just chattered away. Don't worry, I was a very conscientious driver. I drive like an old lady (5 miles above the speed limit) which drives the NC rednecks NUTS. But I don't drive in the left lane, so therefore, they can bite me.

Anyway, if you want a glimpse of what goes on in a 2007 Beetle on a North Carolina highway, take a look. It takes a moment for the video to load, so please be patient.

Kumbaya.

VW Diaries Vol. 1 from Missy Fisher on Vimeo.

A brush with Bruce?

2010-03-12T19:54:00.002-05:00

Ever had someone tell you you look like someone famous? It's one of my favorite questions to ask people. When I ask the question, I usually have a celebrity in mind that I think the questioned person looks like. Personally, I've had a couple of people say I look like Bette Midler, and once when I was sitting upside down on a friends couch when I was in college, my friend Chuck said I looked like Madonna. So if I'm ever asked the question my answer is: right side up I'm Bette / upside down I'm Madonna. Now I think I will learn to walk on my hands...

Here I'm telling B-rad who I think he looks like.

What every girl needs....

2010-03-12T10:06:00.001-05:00

More than a fabulous pair of shoes or the perfect red lipstick, a girl needs one of these....

Thankfully I have been blessed with multiple ones!

Don't forget to "SMIZE"....

2010-03-04T20:56:00.003-05:00

New favorite obsession? Checking out the submissions on Weardrobe.com. It's SOOOOOO much fun to check out the fashion combinations that others have pulled together in their pursuit of being the next Rachel Zoe / Mary-Kate and Ashley / Patricia Field.

Mind you, most people submitting to weardrobe.com have an extra style gene or style gland (eww imagine that) than the average person does. Despite their innate stylishness, most of them look like Derek Zoolander working "Blue Steel". Most of them could benefit with a ANTM marathon and learn how to "smize" as Tyra would say - Lots of opportunity to connect with the camera and smile with their eyes.

It also reminds me of long ago, when my friends Jody, Lori and I would hold photo shoots - where we would create characters / ensembles etc. and photograph these new personas and then put them into a big photo album with captions. It was all very G-Rated / ABCFamily friendly so don't get any creepy ideas. But oh the trauma that would be had should those pictures ever fall into the hands of others.

Oh the trauma....

Solving the worlds problems one batch at a time

2010-03-02T00:04:00.000-05:00

Sugar, butter, flour, eggs, vanilla...all ingredients that can spark sudden inspiration.

The physical result was quite divine as you can see.

The metaphysical result was inspired, but may lack the proper fortitude for success...witness the thought process

Avatar, Schmavatar

2010-02-25T20:29:00.002-05:00

Listen, I don't claim to be Spielberg, Cameron or Bigelow (BTW, have you seen The Hurt Locker? eh...so-so). I'm just a girl, with a fun new toy, who learned how to edit her first little video. Here is my maiden foray into editing a movie, complete with the most basic of credits. I figure that I have now caught up to the skill set of the most average of You Tube posters. If you like it, super. If not...lump it.

Drama at the Waffle House

2010-02-18T17:01:00.002-05:00

A new diversion

2010-02-07T21:05:00.005-05:00

Ahhh the lost art of creating a collage. Remember collages? They seemed to be a go-to assignment for the hippie-ish teachers in middle school. Collages were always a nice easy "A" assignment. Cutting and pasting were a snap, the one little challenge was to be adept at explaining how the images magically linked together. The only drawbacks of collage creation was the sticky fingers from the glue, and little chunks of paper, the shredded aftermath of serious scissor action.

Want to revert back to those old school days and create a collage without the mess? Try Polyvore, a website where you get a piece of space to pull different images together any way that you would like. The beauty of it is that the images available are endless, and there is no mess to clean up! My pal Jody and I are starting a little polyvore challenge each month, where we pick a theme and then each create a collage or two around the theme. Since it's February, the theme was love. How lame is that? All I know, is it's kinda fun. Try it, you might like it, and it may keep you off the streets. I've attached my two interpretations of love - or lurve as I like to call it. Read into it what you may. I have given myself an A+

Kudzu freaks me out

2009-08-19T22:25:00.002-04:00

Kudzu is a phenomenon that this Minnesota girl is just not used to. As the heat of summer flares up in the Carolinas, the Kudzu flourishes and begins to take over the landscape. It's almost claustrophobic how it creeps over trees, telephone poles and power lines, choking out the light for anything in its path. Emerald green kudzu covered mounds line the sides of the highways hiding creating a creepy jungle-like atmosphere in this land of pine trees. Check out this article in the News & Observer about Kudzu creeping toward the ce-ment way down thar in downtown Raleigh.

Random overgrowth, or divine vine? - Josh Shaffer - North Raleigh News

Shared via AddThis

Mighty Life List: Take tap lessons.

2009-07-07T20:56:00.001-04:00

This is Maggie Mason, and I have had a non-psychotic obsession with her for several years.

I first became aware of Maggie about 10 years ago (I think) when my friend Lori told me about her cousin Jason Kottke, who had become a blogger. At the time I didn't know what blogging was, but I checked out Jason's blog on the internet which was in its infant stages.

While Jason is a very insightful writer (very technical and connected to the news) some of the stuff he wrote didn't connect with me - probably because of that extra x chromosome I'm sporting. He did have a list at the side of his blog that detailed the blogs that he liked to read. That is where I discovered Mighty Girl - Maggie Mason's blog. I think when I started reading her blog, she was just meeting her now husband and had a job in some office in San Francisco. Since then she has gotten married, had a kid, become a professional free-lance writer, has a shopping blog, written some books, traveled the world and who knows what else!

Besides inspiring me to start this wee little blog, I have had a couple of dreams featuring Maggie prominently. There is one reoccurring one where I find myself using her washer and dryer secretly and then getting caught by her and her husband as they come home from some outing. Another fun one is that I run into her shopping and she tells me in a very nice way that what I am wearing is all wrong and shows me a cool way to tie a scarf around my neck. I don't dream about any other blogs that I read religiously (thank heavens I would hate for Perez Hilton to pop into my sleepy time adventures). I just admire her for the similarities I perceive that we share - a love of red lipstick, unusual fashion accessories, living in San Francisco, Kharmann Ghias, a big group of friends, and a love of travel. I also admire for the things I so greatly lack - her bravery to try new things, and what appears to be a huge sense of adventure.

One of her most recent projects on her blog has been the creation of a Mighty Life List - a list of 100 things she wants to do before she dies. It's a much more attractive name than the typical "bucket list" much more stylish with no elderly Jack Nicholson aftertaste. Since she is so cool...Intel has decided to sponsor her in her quest to achieve several of her Mighty Life list items. I think that is pretty cool indeed. The video shown illustrates one of her items - taking tap dancing lessons.

Maggie Mason, if you ever read this - I'm not a psycho, I just find you inspirational.

Warm wishes.

All the rest of you - check out her blog www.mightygirl.com

Super Make-over Machine

2009-06-07T11:29:00.001-04:00

Ah to have the ease to change oneself the way this digitally enhanced chameleon does. If I could have these magical powers, I would save a bundle - because I wouldn't be at Sephora every few weeks looking for the magic potion that will turn me into America's Next Top Model.

Too bad chameleons aren't able to do this color switcheroo in real life - that would be awesomely awesome.

Watch out for the Emo kid with the Slo-mo Dove

2009-06-02T23:53:00.001-04:00

Finally. Now this video makes perfect sense.

I'd like to buy a vowel....

2009-06-01T18:57:00.002-04:00

Ahhhh, birthday cakes in Raleighwood. Today was a belated birthday celebration for our pal Jeff. Jeff is in Communications, and is quite the stickler for good grammar and spelling. In fact this morning he was carrying on about people who mix up stationery and stationary (his tip, remember that you write on stationEry with a pEn).

Imagine our joy when we picked up this humdinger of a cake in the Kroger bakery. Either they forgot the E for the play on words....or they mixed up a Z and a Y. A million dollar idea could be spell check for decorators - it appears to be a common problem (check out http://cakewrecks.blogspot.com for further evidence).

Jeff was pleasantly appalled by the misspelling on his cake, and relished in the bad grammar goodness of the creamy frosting.

Hoping you all dream of cupcakes tonight....

The Family Portrait

2009-05-30T12:39:00.003-04:00

Ah the family photo. A brief glimpse in the style of the times, and the awkwardness of the times too. The family pictured has found their look, and as a family they are workin' it - and workin' it HARD.

The Fisher Family had a photo like this - not so much about the super hair, but working a style all the same. Our last official family photo was when I was in 6th grade, and my dad had been named the Prince of the West Wind for the St. Paul Winter Carnival. As a Prince of the West Wind, it required him to dress in a symphony of fringed western shirts, fancy boot cut pants, and some fierce cowboy boots. Since he was swept up in the cowboy style, our family decided to take a professional photo where we kids were sporting a 10 gallon hat, and my dad dressed in his princely garb. My mom was exempt from the hat, as she had a fancy hairdo that she didn't want to wreck. She did show her support in a plaid western shirt and a smile that was reminiscent of a frontier woman.

Thankfully, this photo - which still hangs in my parent's home in an infrequently traveled hallway, has not hit the internet. If it did, it would probably be on my new favorite website - www.awkwardfamilyphotos.com. Check it out, I have added the link on the left of my blog.

I wonder what the featured family's hair looks like now?

On the run from the Wild Kingdom Mafia

2009-05-27T18:59:00.002-04:00

I'm a lover of all creatures great and small. I always root for the animal when it comes to man vs. nature, and currently run a 'catch and release' program for spiders in my humble abode. With this love comes a deep sadness when a little beastie, be it furry, slimy, or with many legs, meets with an unfortunate circumstance that ends its time on earth.

Last Autumn, my father shot a deer while deer hunting in Northern Minnesota. I am not a fan of him deer hunting or deer hunting in general, but nonetheless it continues to be a fact of life. 3 days after my father called to say he got a deer last year, I began to have an eerie situation where there would be up to 5 deer congregating in my driveway as I would return home from work each night. They would stand there staring, and then as I approached they would dart away. This happened for about 2 weeks after that fateful phone conversation with my dad.

This last weekend, my friend accidentally ran over a frog in the parking area of my townhouse development. He didn't mean to do it, it was a wee fellow, and he should have been in the grass doing froggy things rather than rockin' it on the asphalt late at night. We both felt bad, and said sorry to the little guy, and then went on with our lives.

Last night, as I was locking up my little house, checking the back door locks, testing the front door locks, something caught my eye. I looked up to the window above my front door and spied a frog - about 8 feet up off of the ground suction cupped with his little webby hands watching me from the window. Of course I squealed like any woman would, and then decided to record the incident with my camera as proof that I may be being stalked by an amphibian. If I suddenly disappear - check the local swamps and question every Raleigh-Durham frog you may see. They probably would be aware of my whereabouts.

Don't Stop Me Now!

2009-05-26T20:33:00.003-04:00

Brian & Eileen's Wedding Music Video. from LOCKDOWN projects on Vimeo.

This could be the coolest wedding video ever. Cool song, cool bride & groom and some conclusive evidence that the British don't have sticks up their butts all the time.

I would love to have a wedding video like this, but there is the whole annoying "find a groom" step...make him worship me and buy me diamonds step...and honestly, I just don't have time for all of that.

My dogs are barking.....

2009-01-27T19:29:00.002-05:00

I consider myself to be fashion forward...generally. On a limited budget, and with a less than super-model appearance, I try to rock it out when I can.

One way I like to express myself through fashion is to have courageous shoe choices. The small issue is that I am a total wuss about having sore feet. It may be from working for 5+ years on hard marble floors as a retail manager in my early twenties. That is where I developed my philosophy of being a wearer of fabulous flat shoes as opposed to fierce fashionista stiletto heels.

I will wear the occasional spike heel - but it has to be when I know I will be trapped in meetings all day and not marching up and down the square all over the office. Today was supposed to be one of those days - stuck in meetings for 8+ hours. I picked out my black suede booties with the super heels that look so adorable on this morning knowing about my meeting situation. Unfortunately, I didn't plan out the logistics of my meeting calendar today, because today my meetings were here there and everywhere. Upstairs, downstairs, on the west side, on the east side - and every step of the way to my meetings, my feet reminded me as to why I am much more adorable with an Audrey Hepburn sort of flat rather than a Victoria Beckham uber heel.

Tomorrow its going to be all about my Tory Burch Leopard Flats....ahhhhhhhhh.

Genius - Genius I tell you!

2009-01-25T18:27:00.001-05:00

I heart Steve Carell. I heart "Anchorman - the legend of Ron Burgundy". I heart this clip. He should have won an award I tell you....

That's quite a USP!

2008-10-30T11:12:00.002-04:00

Thirsty? Call this dude. He apparently has access to some mighty fine drinking water (after he cleans your persian rug).

I'm sticking to diet coke. Thanks.

Lock me up in this refrigerated case

2008-10-06T19:28:00.002-04:00

Ever have a heck of a day? The kind of day that when you get home you want to stick your face in a plate of cupcakes?

I had that day today.

Lord, how I long for a cupcake....a photo will have to do.

Just say it straight...

2008-10-02T20:40:00.003-04:00

My friend Amy has never been one to mince words. She will say it like she sees it. For example, after having labor induced 3 times over the last 2 days, she finally told her very proper English doctor,

"Look, if you want this kid to come out, you are going to have to go in and get him".

And that is just what the doctor did. Congratulations Amy & Kevin on the addition of little Connor Kirk!

I can tell my cashmere is cowering

2008-10-01T20:15:00.003-04:00

Check out this critter that I encountered while walking through my company's warehouse on the way to the lunchroom. I swear every sort of winged, antennae-wearing creepy crawly that is in North Carolina weighs about a pound each.

I had to go back to my desk and get my personalized ruler to get some scale on this giant moth so one could understand it's size.

This guy could probably decimate my sweater drawer in 30 seconds flat.

See Joe McGann?

2008-09-06T10:30:00.002-04:00

My pal Joe McGann is currently living over in India for a year. The other day he came across a Cobra situation on the street in Guragoan and told me the story. Imagine my glee when I was able to swap a big snake story with him.

Of course he wanted a picture for proof - so Joe McGann, today's posting is just for you.

It's of me and 2 new friends I found in Morocco.

I can't help myself sometimes, if you have been my victim, my apologies

2008-08-28T19:45:00.001-04:00

I think sometimes I'm like this monkey...

Probably another exhausting night in dreamland tonight

2008-08-22T00:11:00.002-04:00

As I go through reading my daily favorite sites on the internet, the false news posted of French actor Jean Reno having a heart attack filled me with dread. Dread because a film star that I admire may be ill?

No.

Dread because the dream will probably come to me tonight. Since about 1989, I have had a re-occurring dream starring Jean Reno (as his character Enzo in The Big Blue - a movie about competitive free diving) that shows up every couple of months. Is it like clockwork that the dream turns up?

No.

Is it the same dream?

No.

It's usually a very detailed escapade in which this Enzo character shows up in weird situations and either helps or distracts me. He's never evil or dangerous, but generally it's kind of a pain in the ass. He's turns up in his wet suit in the weirdest places.

Ask my friends Mike, Jody or Lori, they will confirm that I have been boring them with the telling of my Enzo dreams for almost 20 years.

I've always been a colorful dreamer, in full color with precise detail. Last night was a mental workout, as I had 4 specific, colorful separate dreams which involved 4 different groups of people from work that didn't involve work in any way. My dreams are so active almost every night, sometimes I feel like I have all my mental energy drained out of me when it's time to wake up.

Do I want to be a person with black and white, vague dreams? No. I'm glad I get to remember them, and I am glad I get to bore those close to me with my recounting of dreams.

Why? Because I can.

The silent scream

2008-08-17T19:40:00.002-04:00

What I looked like during my ride back from the beach with my friend Jessica behind the wheel.

I made it back in one piece...surprisingly.

The inanimate - animated

2008-08-09T11:12:00.004-04:00

I have always projected personalities upon inanimate objects. I have since I was a kid. Could be an aftershock from the Disney-fying of my childhood - where a multitude of inanimate objects would come alive in movies and cartoons, implying they had thoughts and emotions, a la Herbie the Love Bug.

This personality projection manifests it in a variety of ways - too extensive for me to detail without boring you to death. I chalk it up to having an overactive imagination.

As I have mentioned before, I lived with my Gay Hubby for over 7 years, and in his main bathroom, there is a sink with a face within it. I'm not talking "potato chip with the face of the virgin mary on it" face within it, the kind that would get sold on Ebay - I'm saying the design of the sink is such that it looks like a face.

Every night when I was getting ready for bed, washing my face and brushing my teeth - I looked into the bathroom sink and saw this face staring back at me. Kind of like a stoner dude - with a blank silver eyed stare, and a slack open mouth and a frequently runny nose-like spigot.

A possible brush with death

2008-08-04T20:21:00.003-04:00

My life passed before my eyes last night.

I just finished eating some dinner consisting of brown rice, hummus, onions and avocados (sounds weird, but I'm weird, so stop judging).

As I put the Hummus container away, I saw the expiration date. "Use by 7/25/08 7:25 PM". I overshot the freshness by 10 days and 30 minutes.

I may perish from this perishiable.

If I don't post anytime soon - you will know, it's because of the hummus.

I'm not always alone in my thinking...

2008-08-03T16:54:00.002-04:00

It never failed.

Everyday, when the bus drove by this building on the way to classes at the University of Minnesota, I would see the chiseled sign above the doorway of this building just off the campus.

Viniversity Storehovse Shops. I would repeat it in my head, after I saw it.

I realize the building was built long ago - and the right thing to do was to use a V instead of a U (god bless the old timers modeling the sign after the Greeks or the Romans or who knows what culture)at the time it was built, but now, it's a bit unique and stands out to the typical late 20th century student.

When I back in MPLS this summer, driving around Dinkytown (the name of the area outside of the campus on the east bank of the Mississippi) with Gay Hubby and friend Jody, I knew we were about to approach the building known to me as Viniversity Storehoves Shops. I started saying it out loud, knowing that we would pass it soon. GH said "what are you saying, you sound like a loon" to which I told the tale of my daily pass by of the building and how the name would get stuck in my head. Both he and Jody thought I was a lunatic. I disagreed. I said that I bet a bunch of people thought the same thing as I did.

A hearty debate of of their "no way" to my "uh huh" pressed on for a minute and I said - I'm calling my sister to see what she says. My sister Shelly went to the U of MN and once worked there as well, so she was well versed in the layout of Dinkytown.

I called her up and said "Shelly, you know that brick building across the street from Coopers Union?" She replied "you mean Viniversity Storehoves Shops?"

I then rested my case.

It feels good to be right. Oh yes, it feels good.

What you can get me for Christmas

2008-08-02T08:27:00.001-04:00

Wake me up before you go go

2008-07-08T01:31:00.005-04:00

Tonight was the big night to go see George Michael with Gay Hubby in all of George's retro tour glory.

Here are 5 great things about the concert:
1) George sounded phenomenal. His pipes sound just as good as they did in the 80's!

2) The stage was quite fantastic. It was a giant LCD screen that he and his back up singers danced on, and there were light shows and video that corresponded with the songs he was singing.

3) George still looks good - he rocked some fabulous drapey wide legged trousers, a hot pair of jeans, and then got dressed up in a cop uniform which was extra campy goodness.

4) Dude can still DANCE! Holy cow, he has got some serious moves. They aren't super acrobatic, but he can do a shimmy and a shake that can set the world on fire. Both Gay Hubby and I commented on it, and agreed that our friend Suneel has some similar moves to George.

5) His back up singers were fantastic, and he rolled credits on the big screen at the end of the concert to recognize his band and crew which I thought was pretty cool.

Here are 5 not so great things about the concert:
1) George's stamina is not what it used to be. He frequently resorted to the "stick the microphone into the crowd so they can sing this part and I can catch my breath" move. It got to the point that Gay Hubby said "I didn't pay to hear the crowd sing".

2) George seemed disappointed in us that we weren't chanting his name with a raucous enough passion. I think George is used to the rabid English Wembley stadium fans that screech, fight and rip apart stadium as a mass of 90,000. Here in MN, the crowd was smaller (probably 20,000), a little more reserved (mostly of Scandinavian descent), and well mannered (a midwestern quality that we all seem to possess).

3) George made us beg for encores. This drives me crazy. The artist knows how many encores they are willing to do - and know that they are going to do them. It seemed indulgent that he made us clap and hoot and holler for a good 5 minutes each time before he came out. I think George might not like George so much, and is suffering from low self esteem. George needs a hug.

4) George started late. Concert was supposed to start at 8 - there was no opening act, and it didn't start until 8:45. I R R I T A T I O N.

5) He wasn't sure the name of the city that he was in. He warmed up the crowd with "Hello Minneapolis" which isn't really right, as we were in St. Paul. After the intermission (yes, intermission - another indicator that George needed a rest) his handlers must have told him that he was in St. Paul, so he kept saying "Thank you St. Paul". Yes the Twin Cities is made up of both Minneapolis and St. Paul, but it felt a little like when my parents always call me by my sister's name. Yes, my sister and I are both daughters of our parents, but we do have different identities - much like Minneapolis and St. Paul. (I'm Minneapolis in this situation, my sister Shelly is St. Paul)

All in all, it was a fantastic evening - all thanks to GH Mike - he is truly the best!

I will rank this concert definitely in my top 8 concerts - possibly even in the top 5.

If you like rankings, check out the top 10 list on George Michael that was published recently in the San Francisco Chronicle at www.sfgate.com - just search for top 10 George Michael(thanks Joe Mcgann for the heads up!)

Do you smell something?

2008-07-01T00:13:00.003-04:00

Today was another day in flight for me. I flew up for a week long vacation in the delicious Twin Cities. Of course, the biggest trial and tribulation of traveling anywhere for me is getting through the Raleigh/Durham airport security without some sort of incident.

If you remember last time, I was accused by the security checkpoint officers of having an artificial hip and lying about it. This time I was assaulted, or should I say my senses were assaulted by a fellow passenger just trying to get through.

Traveling today was a group of teenage boys, all dressed up alike in some sort of soccer themed gear. They were kind of scruffy, kind of geeky, with messy hair and oily skin. As they worked their way through the security process, I was tucked into the last security checkpoint station with 4 of the kids.

As a person who has done a fair amount of traveling, I know what to expect, had my computer out of my bag, in a bin, shoes off (wearing shoes easy to get in and out of) and wearing clothes that don't look like I am hiding 4 Kilos of plastic explosives. The guys maybe didn't have as much experience as me, so I had to find my inner zen to be patient while watching then fumble about to try and get organized to put their things through the x ray machine.

I was just a few feet away from being able to place my laptop bin on the conveyor belt as scruffy soccer kid #4 was still getting his stuff on the belt. As I stood and waited patiently, something wafted up to my nose. I looked around to try and identify the offending odor. Was it me? Nope, just smelled perfume on me. Was it a rotten salami sandwich? Nope, no sandwich to be seen. I looked down and Scruffy #4 had taken his shoes off and they sat on the ground. I wondered - could it be his sneakers? Nothing that foul could be that strong - wafting all the way up to my nose (I was taller than usual too, wearing platform wedge sandals). Scruffy #4 bent down, picked up his shoes and put them on the conveyor belt just in front of me. The drifting aroma from his shoes just about knocked me on my ass.

As I waited for his stuff to go through - especially the shoes, my eyes begin to water, and I felt like I could taste what I was smelling. They finally got into the x ray chamber I hoped that the x rays zooming through his shoes were killing any of the micro-organisms that were waging war on my nasal passages.

As I followed him through the metal detector, I breathed through my mouth, hoping that it would all be over soon. Of course, he had some sort of metal device in his back pack that was suspicious (he said it was to remove the cleats on his soccer shoes) which then required a search of his bag. The poor security officer looked mortified that she had to go through the back pack (which had a pair of soccer shoes stuffed in the top) to identify the issue.

I hope she had a haz-mat suit to put on to dig through his bag. I ske-daddled as soon as I could because I didn't want to be around when the main zipper was unzipped.

It wasn't a mother f*ckin walk off

2008-06-29T19:33:00.001-04:00

It was Tuesday.

I was part of a group that was presenting a new change to my company's brand, which required me to change into special t-shirt that was part of the planned theatrics.

To get back to my desk, it requires me to walk down a main 'hallway' which is flanked by banks of low cubes (waist height) on either side. Everyone sitting at their desk can see who is going up and down the aisle.

As I began to walk to the other end of the aisle to get to my desk, the president of our company was at the opposite end of the aisle. He is a guy with a dry sense of humor and likes to make jokes. He smiled at me and seemed to be laughing as the two of us approached each other in the aisle-way.

Since Zoolander is one of my favorite movies, I assumed it was the president's too, and that he was challenging me to a mother f*ckin walk off (as portrayed in today's clip). I began my strut toward him, kind of walking like a weird pony - the way that Miss J teaches all the girls on America's Next Top Model.

As the president approached me he said "Missy, I thought perhaps you could give me one of those shirts" - referring to my new theatrical uniform. I responded to him "oh, I thought you wanted to have a walk off" which left him very puzzled. My face turned red, and a retreated with the chant "uncomfortable" running through my head.

I went and found him a shirt, but by then, he refused, most likely because my earlier behavior was freaking him out.

I raised my profile in one weird way that day.

Mamma Mia

2008-06-24T20:46:00.001-04:00

This is the song that has been in my head for the last 4 days. It started after seeing the preview for the new movie "Mamma Mia" starring Meryl Streep - who appears to spend much of the movie in overalls, which should be interesting.

Am I irritated by this ABBA mental invasion? Not really, as I am an ABBA lover. How could one not love them? Good beat, fabulous outfits, and hairdos that most would say are hair-don't's (bless little Bjorn with his modified mullet). I've seen the musical "Mamma Mia", I've got all their greatest hits, and have even gone to see Bjorn Again - an ABBA tribute band.

I associate people with ABBA songs too, for example, every time I hear Dancing Queen I think of my friend Ada as it's her personal theme song, Waterloo for GH maybe because he can be as tyrannical as Napoleon, and Fernando for my mom - because I remember her trying to explain what the lyrics meant when I was 7 years old.

My company is expending a lot of energy to improve working conditions for the team - I think in lieu of a Yoga room which is in the plans - I'm going to suggest an ABBA room. Talk about giving a morale injection! It's foolproof I believe.

My mental ABBA song just changed from "Mamma Mia" to "I have a dream".

Make tomorrow an ABBA-RAMA in your life.

Do they have to call it pudding?

2008-06-22T10:13:00.002-04:00

Every morning I see an advertisement for this stuff, and it makes me feel like I'm from outer space.

Seriously? Internal organ pudding? I will stick with J-E-L-L-O.

Now there is more for those who really dig it.

I blame my OCD on John-Boy

2008-06-18T21:21:00.002-04:00

I have a personal quirk - a curiosity if you will.

I have a ritual when I iron something.

Once my ironed item is freshly pressed, I reach down and unplug the iron saying out in a clear voice (to no one) "I HAVE UNPLUGGED THE IRON". Why do I do this? Because a secret fear of mine is to leave the house with the iron plugged in, and then the house burns down due to the iron overheating.

"Why don't you get an iron with an automatic shut off Missy?" you ask? I do have an iron with an automatic shut off, but WHAT IF IT FAILS? Then the house still burns down. By saying it out loud to myself, I don't have to question myself on my way to work "did I turn off the iron? I turned off the iron right? I don't remember turning off the iron..." over and over. I would drive myself mad and would have to return home to make sure it's turned off.

Why this crazy fascination with the house burning down? Because when I was around 8 years old, I remember the episode of the The Walton's where the house burned down because either
1) Grandpa left the electric heater on by the tub
2) Pa forgot to manage the embers the pot belly stove in the kitchen or
3) John-Boy snuck one of Pa's cigars and didn't put it out properly.

Seeing the horrors of the fire on the poor Walton family shook me to my very soul. As a result of watching that show, I started my own personal watch over my family household, getting up in the middle of the night every night to do "the rounds" checking each room to make sure that there were no items in each room that were in potentially combustible situations.

My parents put up with this wacko behavior for a while, but finally my mom said - "Knock it off, or else I'm sending you to a psychiatrist". I stopped doing my psycho rounds and melded back into a fairly normal child. Every once in a while, my Walton's inspired fear of household fire will crop up - usually in the form of iron management.

I decided to roll with my quirk - it could be worse, I could be on crystal meth or something...

A room with a view

2008-06-17T22:58:00.003-04:00

This is the view from bed in the guest room at GH's house. His decorating style is impeccable, and a single girl like me can always appreciate a photo vignette featuring the delicious Viggo Mortensen and the dashing Anderson Cooper. Gay husband has such good taste, featuring hot guys and cool friends. It's innate I guess, he's always been a decorating superstar - even back years ago when we lived together.

Check out the ghost in the friend group picture to the right of Anderson Cooper. I'm the one that is glowing white like Casper the friendly ghost. I look like an albino in a bad Liza Minelli wig.

Life is a cabaret old chums...life is a cabaret...

Another indication that I am turning into my mother

2008-06-12T22:36:00.001-04:00

My mom is a fun chick. She has a great sense of humor, is opinionated and is a hoot to talk to.

One of my mom's personality quirks that I remember from my childhood is her extreme dislike of a Minneapolis newscaster by the name of Cindy Brucato. I remember many a night where the news may have been on in the background and Cindy was interviewing someone or reading the news. My mom often would say "oh she is such a puke" (which means "I'm not a fan of this person") or she would imitate the awkward interviewing style of Ms. Brucato.

While my mother didn't like to Cindy's style as a newscaster she always watched.

The other morning, as I was getting ready for work, I was listening to the Today Show for my dose of news and info-tainment. Imagine my surprise when I caught myself looking in the mirror and making fun of Meredith Viera (whom I can't stand) saying that she was reporting from Beirut, when actually she was in Beijing. I went on a rant (to myself) and caught myself doing exactly what my mom would do when she would rant about Cindy. I laughed to myself a little bit, and decided to embrace my future as a newscaster critic.

But seriously. Meredith Viera is sooooo irritating. She talks over people, asks stupid questions and doesn't listen to her interviewees...not that I have an opinion or anything.

TWITTER WHORE

2008-06-08T09:51:00.001-04:00

Hi, My name is Missy and I Twitter. That's the first step right? Except I don't think I have a problem...I Twitter once a day. That's not too much right? OMG maybe I should do it every other day? I'm going to go tweet about it right now.

It could be worse, I could be in Riyadh

2008-06-06T21:59:00.000-04:00

It's official, I'm melting. At 9:11 PM it's still 99 degrees.

It is so frickin' hot in North Carolina, that my actual flesh has melted off my bones and is in a puddle on the floor. Although I am a liquid, I am still able to successfully navigate the internet, so I decided to take a little look at the other temps around the world to see how Raleigh compares: Today temps are as follows:

Alger, Algeria 73 degrees
Bujumbura, Burundi 84 degrees
Cairo, Egypt 99 degrees
Kumasi, Ghana 89 degrees
Antananarivo, Madagascar 78 degrees
El Aaiun, Western Sahara 79 degrees
Kabul, Afghanistan 94 degrees
Jamalpur, Bangladesh 89 degrees
Beijing, China 86
Guraguon, India 96
Tehran, Iran 91

I'm sure if I knew someone in Riyadh, Saudia Arabia they would say I was a whiner, because they hit 112 degrees today. But you know what - that's a dry heat, and down here in the NC it's about as moist as a Betty Crocker cake with pudding in the mix. Guess what, tomorrow has more in store - it's going to be 101 degrees.

Okay, now it's time to re-solidify myself. Wish me luck.

One way ticket to crazy town

2008-06-04T22:51:00.001-04:00

Check out this dude wigging out in a Russian office. Their cubes are more "cube-ish" than the ones in my office. So far, no freak outs like this here in North Cackalack....

What's Your Personal Theme Song

2008-06-03T23:26:00.001-04:00

Curses to George Lucas. His company theme song/set of sounds that are enhanced by this dramatic lemur's actions makes my skin crawl. If I'm in a movie theater and hear this, I have to stick my fingers in my ears.

My personal theme song is much more pleasant. It's "love is all around" a.k.a the Mary Tyler Moore theme song.

What's your personal theme song?

A sad day for fashion....

2008-06-01T22:22:00.000-04:00

Sad story today...the highly creative and glamorous Yves Saint Laurent died today. My fashionista friend Kristen is very sad. I remember the days when we were teenagers reading Vogue and W magazine in her bedroom talking about all of the fabulous fashion designers - Karl, Calvin, Ralph and Yves...

I made it...just under the wire

2008-05-31T23:51:00.000-04:00

It was just 30 days ago when I challenged myself to post on my blog every day in May. I did it amazingly enough. Some days (as I'm sure you could tell) it was a struggle to come up with content. Now the question is - can I sustain it?

We shall see....we shall see

I think I have bad karma

2008-05-30T23:32:00.000-04:00

Seriously.

Today has been a roller coaster, running the gamut of great to horrible. Unfortunately, it ended on horrible rather than great. I'm going to bed, so this day will be over and hoping that tomorrow is an improvement.

ugh.

Anyone have any good ideas on how to make myself more good karmalicious?

I need help people.

Here's a fact you may not know

2008-05-29T21:42:00.000-04:00

Did you know that there are only 3 cemeteries in San Francisco? 2 for people, and one for pets. This is the final resting place for some awesome hamsters, a real cute kitty and a variety of other loveable creatures. I'm not quite sure what sort of creature named Missy is buried there - but I'm sure that it was an awesome pet. How could it not be with a name like that?

Wouldn't it be nice?

2008-05-28T20:20:00.000-04:00

Wouldn't it be nice to always have a super fan in your corner? A person that told you that you were AWESOME! whenever you needed it? I could have used one today. I came across this Super Fan in Minneapolis. Might have to call him and see if he does Super Fan calls out of state and schedule a visit.

What my workday was like today...

2008-05-27T20:37:00.001-04:00

Does every moment have to be memorable?

2008-05-26T20:27:00.000-04:00

I had a not so memorable Memorial day
- hiding out
- undercover
- laying low
- sitting tight
- holed up

and it was quite nice.

What did you do?

Disappointing

2008-05-25T21:37:00.000-04:00

Went to see the new Indiana Jones movie with my pal Brad.

My review of the movie is...it blows. Of course, if you are the type of person that needs closure in all things, go see it, but only at matinee pricing.

The best thing about the movie was Cate Blanchett's hairdo - which is my dream hair. Unfortunately, I don't look like Ms. Blanchett, so I will have to continue to rock my own personal hair-don't.

Check out everyone's teeth in the final scene too - it's like a giant Chiclet factory - veneers, veneers, veneers. Doesn't anyone have real teeth anymore?

Did you know....

2008-05-24T22:02:00.000-04:00

I'm learning something new every day.

I would like to learn about more things that DO NOT involve mucus though.

If you feel a nibble on your toe...

2008-05-23T21:56:00.001-04:00

Just a reminder for those of you that love the ocean and may be going to a beach this weekend.

Those that have known me for years know that I have a huge fear of sharks - that includes Saturday Night Live's Landshark. I get chills anytime I see that skit.

I'm lame - but I would be a delectable morsel for any Carcharodon carcharias (a great white shark)

It was a rage cage....

2008-05-22T21:35:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was our company's fun day. It was an afternoon picnic where we were able to compete against each other in departmental teams in various events. One event was inflatable boxing - where 2 people got in an inflatable ring with giant inflatable boxing gloves and were giving permission to pound the bejesus out of each other.

It was interesting to see some of the match ups. My friend Kelly got a barrage of hits by a woman using a windmill technique - her arms flailing in a circle in a constant attack. Two VPs boxed each other, each I think taking out some inner office rage out on each other. It ended up as good clean fun, but there was certainly electricity in the air when the two climbed in the ring together.

Our team may have come in dead last overall for the day, but we had the best uniforms and we looked F-I-N-E!

21 Accents

2008-05-21T20:53:00.001-04:00

Everyday at work my co-workers and I butcher the english language with our imitations of the English people that we work so closely alongside of. Pretty much every day has conversation had has some sort of Olde English lilt to it - and occasionally we break into cockney. That is a sorry sound and sight let me tell you.

This chick has got her accents down pretty well, I find her quite inspiring. Can you tell where she is really from?

Oy, play the bloomin' clip!

Lost in Translation

2008-05-20T21:58:00.000-04:00

I saw this sign when I was at Ike's in Minneapolis (possibly one of the greatest places for brunch ever).

It hit home, because as the person that writes the in-store communications at my company, I often have to translate the UK English version to the American English version because even though we speak the same language, things often are very different.

For example "fanny pack". Saying that sets English people into fits of red-faced laughter.

Next time I see you, I'll explain it to you.

What I feel like today

2008-05-19T11:04:00.000-04:00

I'm feeling a little like a jellyfish
- floating through life, riding the current rather than swimming against it
- spineless
- jelly like

I think I'm just tired. Perhaps a nap on the plane will make it better.

Just call me Debbie Downer right?

A new word?

2008-05-18T22:25:00.000-04:00

a-den-ture
~noun
1. an exciting or very unusual experience had by those with dentures
2. participation in exciting undertakings or enterprises involving denture-wearers: the spirit of adenture
3. a bold, unusually risking undertaking by denture-wearers; hazardous action of uncertain outcome involving their faux teeth.

As the baby boomers age, and their dental hygiene becomes compromised, industries will have to appeal to their physical foibles to get them to purchase. For example, the travel industry will most likely re-name travel adventures to adentures, creating tourism experiences where the traveler will have access to soft foods, unlimited quantities of Polygrip & Polydent, no matter what their location - on safari in Kenya, in the mountains of New Zealand, or on the streets of San Francisco.

San Francisco, always on the cutting edge, has already started creating tourist knicknacks in anticipation for the aging crowds of the future. Today's featured curio can be found at the Golden Gate Bridge gift shop, on the southern end of the bridge.

Now you see it, now you don't

2008-05-17T21:55:00.000-04:00

Today I went down by Ghiradelli Square with some pals to play some bocce ball. It has been the first day since I have been in SF that the weather is 'typical' in it's special way - meaning, gorgeous blue skies, 65 degrees and breezy. Our bocce ball courts overlooked Alcatraz. The bay was full of activity with sailboats cruising around everywhere. It looked like this:

Within 15 minutes of this picture being taken, a blanket of fog began to roll over all in its way in the bay. It was totally cool. It looked like this:

It had a very ominous Jamie Lee Curtis slasher movie feeling to it. I was digging it. However, my hair was not. I used a flat iron today to rock a straight hair look, however the fog overruled and assigned me a TWA (a Teeny Weeny Afro). No worries, bad hair is worth it to be back here.

I'm just getting my toes done, I'm just getting my toes done

2008-05-16T22:13:00.000-04:00

Location: San Francisco
Activity: Getting a pedicure
Situation: have to get naked for it

I am in San Francisco on wee vacation. While here, I decided to pop into a spa located in a downtown shopping mecca for a pedicure, rather than creating another stop in my busy day and going to the regular place near my apartment.

The spa is a sanctuary in the center of the city, luxurious, with the finest decor. As I signed in for my appointment, I was given a tour by the receptionist to prepare me for my appointment to get my toes painted. As she escorted me through the spa, she showed me the waiting area where patrons could wait for their services. It was a large room with enormous velvet sofas and dim lighting, with a wind chime-ish soundtrack playing in the background. About 20 people, men and women, all of them sitting in fluffy white terry robes, sat sipping water infused with cucumber and lemon and reading magazines (none of them paying attention that they were all buck naked except for a swaddling of highly absorbent terry cloth. Next I was introduced to the 'quiet room' a women only space where women could wait before or after their appointment in a new age/ star trek-ish atmosphere of reclining leather chairs, chenille lap robes and chiffon dividing curtains between each chair. Then we came to the ladies lounge, where they have a cold steam/hot steam/ mud baths/ milk baths/ jacuzzis/full makeup area with makeup and hair styling materials etc. available to all who get a little rumpled by being scrubbed, massaged, moisturized and manipulated during their treatment. This place was LAID OUT! Finally, she took me to the locker area, where she asked my shoe size (i assumed for the little paper flip flops you get post pedicure, and then showed me my locker where I could put my bags and purse(I had been shopping) and to CHANGE INTO MY ROBE.

Now, I'm a shy person. I don't get naked for just anybody. And the fact that I was told to change out of my clothes and become a fluffy white terry robe person disturbed me because I WAS JUST GETTING MY TOES PAINTED. I tried to act cool, and waited for my hostess to leave. Suddenly flashbacks of gym class came hurtling back at me - of changing in the locker room while Ms. Juelhich, our female gym teacher gazed at us. I decided to buck up, be a 21st century woman and change into my robe. I felt very discombobulated in the robe, the belt was twisted, it was showing too much cleavage, and I felt like the Stay-puft Marshmellow Man in the movie Ghostbusters. Due to low levels of fashion confidence, I decided to sit in the quiet room - which was women only. I went in, trying not to disturb the greased up post-treatment spa women. A few eyed me with annoyance as I puttered about trying to figure out how to recline the space age leather recliner (there is a secret knob) and decide where to put the sensitive chenille blanket (because I was hot in my sweltering terry cloth tomb) and putz about with a copy of SELF magazine, squinting to read because it was too dark to see, and too hard to quietly flip pages without disturbing others.

After 5 minutes in the quiet zone and the spa patron's withering looks, I decided to buck up and join the living and be brave. I decided to go and sit with in the co-ed area in my terry cloth robe because I realized that I was being a wuss and would never see these people again anyway.

I looked in the mirror, adjusted my robe to be it's most flattering, and then walked with confidence out to the co-ed waiting room. I was going to work my terry cloth stay-puft action.

I walked out there - and everyone was gone.

After all that build up and mental preparation for naught, I hate to say it but I was disappointed.

I was in my own Glass Case Of Emotion today

2008-05-15T18:55:00.001-04:00

The above expresses my inner turmoil experienced this morning when the ticket agent at the airport told me I was 2 minutes late in checking in for a flight to San Francisco - a flight where I had been upgraded to first class.

I was rebooked on a flight, sitting in the back of the cattle car...with all the other cows.

I want that time back

2008-05-14T21:58:00.000-04:00

As I'm preparing today's post I'm watching the season finale of my favorite guilty pleasure "America's Next Top Model". There were magic moments tonight, and it's share of putrid ones. A quick rundown:

Magic:

getting to see once again 'how to smile with your eyes' as illustrated by Tyra
hearing Mr. Jay continually saying at the final runway show "you have got to stomp it to the death" - which may become my new motto
seeing hot boys in Versace briefs and eyeliner walking the runway in the runway show

Putrid:

Listening to Paulina Porizkova hate on the fatter model Whitney
Tyra's weave
the "on a very special episode of 'The Facts of Life'" type discussion at the very end about how Whitney can now have high self esteem as a chubby chick because she won AMERICA'S NEXT TOP MODEL!!!!!!!!!!!

I'm guessing that the editor was on crack because the show, which normally would be a 2 hour extravaganza, was cut down to a wee little hour presentation. There were no sensitive, reflective moments of the two finalists sitting on a monument or scenic overlook in a fabulous foreign city contemplating their futures of stomping down runways and concentrating on extending their neck in photos. There was no final review of all of the photos taken and analyzed down to the expression of every eyelash.

I feel robbed of the experience, because all 9 other finales delivered, where this one did not.

Dear Tyra Banks.
Please return that 55 minutes of my life that was wasted on your show's season finale. Feel free to return it in 5 minute increments or in a bulk sum. The choice is yours on how you give it back. Just know that you ain't getting anymore of my time on your sad-ass finales.

Thank you,
MF

I heart my i-pod....my whole i-pod

2008-05-13T22:05:00.000-04:00

Today my friend Brad came into work, excited about what he was listening to on the radio during his commute. Today's topic on the radio show was "what song are you embarrassed to like". Brad asked me the question, and I ran through my i-tunes library in my head - what do I have that embarrasses me? I threw out to Brad that it would probably be a Barry Manilow tune, but then said that nothing really embarrassed me. Over the course of the day, I've been compiling a mix of songs that were kind of embarrassing to me - kind of a secret shame playlist that I wouldn't want to be caught singing to at the top of my lungs (which is what I do generally when I'm driving by myself) in my car with the windows rolled down.

Here's my playlist:

Reminiscing - Little River Band

Weekend in New England - Barry Manilow

Pop Goes My Heart - Hugh Grant

You won't see me - Anne Murray

Midnight at the Oasis - Maria Muldaur

Forever in Blue Jeans - Neil Diamond

Xanadu - Olivia Newton John

Dance with Me - Orleans

Stars are Blind - Paris Hilton

The lady is a Vamp - Spice Girls

Flowers on the Wall - The Statler Brothers

I go Crazy - Paul Davis

All By Myself - Eric Carmen

Please Come To Boston - Dave Loggins

The Stroke - Billy Squier

Can't Stand Losing You - Andy Williams

Life is a Flower - Ace of Base

Scanning this list I have created, I seem to have a secret love of ballads from the 70's. Not sure why they are so ingrained in me - could be that I had a brother and sister that were teens in the 70's in my impressionable early childhood years. I love these songs, I have them in my i-tunes. I just don't want others to think they are favorites of mine. On second thought - I'm going to own it.

Hey world, check out my no longer secret shame playlist.

I just might put it on i-tunes as a custom i-mix.

Just call me DJ MissAY.

Surly Spice - just a year ago

2008-05-12T21:52:00.000-04:00

It was a year ago that I was traipsing around the highlands of Wales with Gay Husband (aka GH) and my pal Jody. GH was working over there in the thrilling industry of credit card marketing, enabling the citizens of the UK to go further into debt. Jody and I went over there, because it's sad when one doesn't get to see their GH regularly, and because we long to march up and down inside the ruins of castles from the 1100's. Today's pic is of GH looking surly yet fabulous along a highland stream in Wales. So rugged, so fantastic, so perturbed that his photo is being taken. If GH was a Spice Girl, his spice name would be Surly Spice.

He's surly and delicious - he's surlicious.

An apology to my mother

2008-05-11T16:54:00.001-04:00

Mom, if I ever acted like this in any way during my formative teenage years, I would like to sincerely apologize..

You are the best mom on the planet Joyce Ann!

Love, your koogle bear

I'm more of a 'one leg at a time' kind of girl

2008-05-10T11:54:00.001-04:00

An inspiring way of amping up the art of an everyday task.

A new gremlin

2008-05-09T23:47:00.000-04:00

Just found out today that one of my best pals ever, Amy, has a wee baby on the way. She likes to refer to it as a gremlin, which tickles me to no end. I'm very excited for her and her delicious hubby Limes (a nickname - he's English, therefore a Limey, real name is Kevin) as now they will have a little person wreaking havoc around the house.

I can't wait till the Gremlin starts talking, because if it is anything like it's mother, it will be saying some outrageous, hilarious things!

Congratulations to Amy and Limes!

So dreamy....

2008-05-08T22:03:00.000-04:00

So what cartoon character do you think is the dreamiest?

Are you a fan of Dr. Quest of Jonny Quest? How about Aqua Man? Maybe Fred from Scooby Doo? Think Homer Simpson is a dreamboat?

I like my cartoon characters manly and rugged. If I was a cartoon woman, my rugged cartoon dreamboat would be able to fight a bear, or catch a poacher. Who would be my perfect cartoon match? Mark Trail of course. There is no hunkier, manlier cartoon around. If Mark Trail was on E-Harmony.Com I'm sure we would come up as a perfect match.

My friend Elizabeth's grandfather is the artist that draws Mark Trail, so maybe she could arrange an introduction. I will have to see if she can pull some strings. Maybe her grandfather could draw a cartoon version of me, and put me in the cartoon as Mark's new squeeze.

See you in the funny papers!

I met an "B" actor from a movie today

2008-05-07T22:21:00.000-04:00

This evening I was retrieving something from the trunk of my car when someone caught my eye. I looked to the left and saw a "b" actor standing to my left. Unfortunately it was an actor whose performance I was not a fan of. Ever seen the movie Arachnaphobia? It had to have been one of the main antagonists of the flick. It was an enormous black hairy spider about the size of Reese's Peanut Butter Big Cup. Doesn't sound very big? Let me assure you this thing was enormous, and looked like it wanted to take a big chomp out of me.

He was hairy, fuzzy, and watching me as I was assessing whether or not I was going to squish him. As I think it is bad karma to kill other things, and because I would need to have Army issue combat boots to take this bad boy out, I let him move on. Now I fear that he is going to be setting up a club house in my garage with all of his bad ass buddies to hang in. I would not be surprised if he belongs to some sort of Spider gang. I couldn't see what colors he was sporting, no tattoos or bandanas were visible from where I stood - however, that doesn't mean that he isn't a Crip, a Blood or a Vice Lord.

Today's picture is of a spider I found outside of my front door last year, but this is a good spider, that eats mosquitos and other annoying little buzzy things. This gentle giant, while scary looking, had my back. He probably has a little cranberry beret, like a Guardian Angel prowling the streets of a big metropolis, fighting bug crime. Hopefully he is lurking in my garden somewhere and I can recruit him to go in and do a sweep of my garage.

If I don't post tomorrow - assume the worst, that I am cocooned in spider silk, hanging from the rafters of my garage. Send help.

I think I need a hug.

A greener way of communicating?

2008-05-06T19:20:00.000-04:00

Mr. Fong is a leader on team go green! No post it notes for this guy....he leaves his messages on the ground for his people, no need to recycle his notes.

Today, Mr. Fong wanted to let everyone know that he had a lunch date.

A 4-wheeled Invisibility Cloak

2008-05-05T19:02:00.000-04:00

Are you one of the people that thinks that once they sit down in their car and shut the door no one can see what they are doing in the car? Shrouded in a cloak of invisibility?

I am a big fan of people watching, so of course when I am stuck at a long Raleigh stop light, I like to take a moment to check my road neighbors out. Usually it's just someone singing along on the radio, or chatting on the phone. Every once an a while there is a nose picker digging for gold, or some chick putting her face on in her rear view mirror.

The other day was the most obvious case of car invisibility syndrome (CIS) I've seen. A woman, on her way to work, decided to take a moment to do some personal facial grooming - best left done in the privacy of one's home. I watched her rub her face a little bit, looking at her chin in the sunshine as it streamed through her windshield. I thought perhaps she was just an older woman, doing the cursory "this is what it would be like if I got a face lift" move, but no, she was assessing her facial hair situation. She reached over to her passenger seat, and pulled out a scissors, going to town trimming whatever it is she had abundance of. I watched with fascination as she trimmed, trimmed, trimmed.

Now, I understand everyone has things that have to be 'managed' in their personal grooming, but I wonder if the woman I watched would manage her situation differently, if she knew that I was putting the story of the sight that I saw out into cyber-space. I'm not trying to make fun of her, I'm just trying to warn my precious readers to not do anything in their car that they wouldn't do out in the middle of a busy city street.

This public service announcement on CIS brought to you by the Missay Foundation.

The same, but different

2008-05-04T21:16:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was the AIDS walk in Raleigh, NC. It was a good day, nice weather, we had a great team pulled together and raised $3,500. I've participated in AIDS walks before, most recently in San Francisco. While there are lots of similarities in the events, there are some differences.

In San Francisco, some of our fellow walkers looked like this:

In Raleigh, some of our fellow walkers looked like this:

The pressure is on for the next AIDS walk I participate in...I hope I can count on another colorful fellow walker - no matter what the species.

How I am hoping my Saturday turns out

2008-05-03T11:01:00.001-04:00

Just waiting for my gold dress to finish in the dryer.

A New Auteur on the Scene

2008-05-02T17:42:00.000-04:00

Today's post features the newest release from Hughes Pictures. It's a study of feminine politics and how the media escalates conflict between women. Major universities are using it as a case study in their Women's Studies programs. It may be the most important commentary on women to date.

Inspired by a real life conversation

2008-05-01T21:18:00.000-04:00

Smokey: So, you know someday we will be at war with the robots

Woody: heh heh, you think that's really going to happen?

S: Yep, The Matrix and The Terminator movies are prophecies.

W: So who are they going to attack first?

S: Anyone on MySpace, Facebook and Linkedin.

W: Come on....you are not serious.

S: Dude...I'm just saying... get off the grid...

the above re-enactment was inspired by a conversation had at Ike's Restaurant, Minneapolis, on Sunday, April 27.

Special thanks to Smokey & Woody for their riveting performances.

I'm a dark cloud threatening a tahitian sunrise

2008-04-28T15:43:00.000-04:00

Location: Chambers Hotel Bar in downtown Minneapolis
Occasion: Mike and I reconnecting with our pal Todder, a top cool guy in the universe
Situation: A fashion self-realization, deep down I'm still a goth-lite girl from high school

As we sat and sipped our fabulous cocktails, swapping stories of the goings-on in our lives, I noticed the fellas that I was with apparently read the same fashion brief. Todder was wearing a tremendous shirt featuring the rosy shades of sky one might see watching the sun rise over a south pacific sea. Mike was sporting a crisp Brooks Brother shirt, with a window pane check in a similar shade of sunrise pink. Both looked fresh yet completely manly, perfect in their setting of a hip hotel bar.

What was I wearing? My constant uniform of black with leopard print accents (flats and a scarf). I looked like Mrs. Robinson, on her way to a Cure concert. Koo koo ka choo....I need a new fashion direction. Might not be a sunrise....but I will be working my way away from goth cougar....

A bingo hero

2008-03-17T19:34:00.000-04:00

Here is my pal Andrew. He is a smarty pants about many things, except for one. B-I-N-G-O is it's name-o. A group of us were at Drag Bingo(A fundraiser for the Alliance Against AIDS) last Saturday. The game was straight BINGO - either across or diagonally. Andrew got a little excited when he filled up his entire N column (5 numbers called in the N column) and shouted out BINGO! to the crowd. When his card was checked, he was shamed in front of the group, as the game is BINGO! not NNNNN! as his card reflected.

His punishment for false BINGO! declarations was to wear the dunce cap until someone made the same mistake again. He ended up wearing it for a while....but with great aplomb. I won't lie, there was an obvious spring in his step when the next guy did the fake BINGO! call and he got to give up his crown of shame to the new offender.

Andrew is this week's bingo because he was a good sport about wearing his hat, even though he wasn't looking is most supremely macho-iest at the time.

Bravo Mr. Aplin, Bravo!

A history of violence?

2008-03-16T17:47:00.000-04:00

Apparently Jesus was a street fightin' man?

HOT. DAIRY. PORN

2007-10-23T20:31:00.000-04:00

Doesn't this booth from the North Carolina State Fair look like the sign that would be up above a strip club in a red light district overseas? I would suppose to the dairy obsessed this would be as exciting as the Lusty Lady Club in SF would be to the boob obsessed.

While they did their best attempt at a deep fried cheese curd, they were no match to what the Great Minnesota Get Together (aka the Minnesota State Fair) has to offer.

Behold the power of cheese.

I'd like to thank...

2007-10-21T11:15:00.000-04:00

Dreams really do come true at the North Carolina State Fair. Case in point, look at Beauregard, the blue ribbon award winning sweet potato for 2007. Right after Beauregard achieved his dream of becoming the best sweet potato for the year, I had a chance to interview him.

Missy: So, Beauregard, how does it feel to reach the pinnacle of potato-ness?
Beauregard: Ma'am, I'm so proud to have achieved this level of success.

M: What's your secret? How did you become so fabulous?
B: Well, it was a multitude of things. I'd really like to thank Mr. Clarence Wilson, my farmer, because without him, I would not have made it. The secret really is a hearty dose of pig poo.

M: Pig poo?
B: Pig poo. I know it sounds gross, but really there is nothing finer. I bulked up right away once the poo treatments began. Once you get used to the smell, and think of it as a spa treatment, it's magnificent. I recommend it highly.

M: Hmmm, I think I'm going to have to stick with the more traditional treatments like Body Butter or Body Scrubs for my own personal enhancement.
B: I'm telling you, once you try it, you are going to love it!

M: Okay, I'll take it under advisement. Okay, now that you are the tops in North Carolina in the Sweet Potato community, what will you do now?
B: I haven't decided. I could go for the national title, but I think I may investigate some other opportunities now that Hollywood has come a-knockin'.

M: Hollywood? really? Can you share a little more?
B: Well, I had a message from the Ellen Degeneres show, an offer of a guest starring part on "Gossip Girl, a call from the casting agent for "The Surreal Life" and then Martha Stewart wants me to appear on her show.

M: Martha Stewart? My advice is to steer clear of that one.
B: But Miss Stewart is such a lovely woman, and I do love to hear about her cookin' tips.

M: Dude, all I am saying is stay clear of the kitchen when Martha is around. Girl's got knives and knows how to use them...that's all I'm going to say.

Wax on...Wax off

2007-10-14T19:24:00.000-04:00

So, when one goes to culinary school, can one major in Japanese Steak House Chef? I went to one on Saturday night with a group of friends from work. It was entertaining, and less smoky than others I have visited, you know, when the big waft of cooked meat smoke floats into your face like when you sit around a campfire. [side note, my friend Cristina, an avid camper, said that she was taught that when smoke from a campfire blows in your face you should repeat "I love dead bunnies, I love dead bunnies" over and over, with the result being that the smoke will change direction and get out of your face. Give it a try and tell me how it goes someone out there in cyberland...]

My question about Japanese Steak House chefs is do they have a class that teaches all the signature moves? The onion volcano, as featured in the photo, or the catching of the shrimp tails in the top of the chef hat or everyone's favorite, the faux mustard bottle squirt on a customer - which is really just a trick bottle with a black string, were some of the moves that we saw Saturday night - and I have seen before at other restaurants of the same caliber. Don't get me wrong, my friends and I laughed and enjoyed the tradition of it - I just wondered how the information cascades down to every chef. Perhaps there is a Chef sensei that walks the earth like Kung Fu, and to him each student chef is a steak house grasshopper - graduating only when they finally capture that shrimp tail in their hat.

TMI

2007-10-09T20:24:00.000-04:00

EWWW EWWWW EWWWW EWWWW EWWWWWWWW!

More information than I needed to know.

That kind of stuff makes me want to hurl. Sometimes I can be a real delicate flower - occasions are few and far between, but I do have my flower moments.

2007-10-07T21:05:00.000-04:00

Tensions have been high at work. We have all been working really hard, but feel like we are spinning our wheels. My department tends to commiserate together and morale is low. On Friday last week, after a meeting that I was conducting ended, I was pulling the meeting room back together. I packed up the projector, shut down my computer, pushed in the chairs, and finally pulled on the screen to activate it's magic roller system to pull it up back to the ceiling where it sits hidden until the next time it needs to be used. As the screen slid up to it's final resting point, modern day office hieroglyphics made their presence known. It was 3 groupings of drawings. The first were simple circle faces - one with a frown, another with a smile, with the statement "turn that frown upside down". A friend of mine in the room confessed that she was the one had drawn that one, as she was in a funk and thought the drawing would pick her up. Another was a circle face with squiggly hair, and a goofy smile with a tongue sticking out of the simple U-shaped smile and said " be happy, it's later than you think". Not sure if they were commenting on that it was Friday afternoon, and we would be going home soon - or for those with a darker viewpoint, it was saying that we are one step closer to having a foot in the grave each day. That of course bummed me out. The third and final drawing was the one that resonated best with me - to grin and bear it essentially - because I am finding that NO ONE wants to hear me whine. Boo hoo poor me. I'm still a bit grouchy. Can you tell? - rhetorical question - no need to respond. Grrrrrrrrrrrr.........

A new trend

2007-09-24T20:45:00.000-04:00

"Well we have 40 minutes before the movie starts. Let's walk around and kill some time" I said to my buddy Mike. Mike came down to Raleigh as my first official visitor. As a yankee, he was finding the differences between the north (he's from Minneapolis) and the south quite vast. He was having a hard time connecting with the culture - much like me - and what seemed to be acceptable and unacceptable here. Politically, the area differed much from Mike's views, and as a proud gay chap, he wasn't really feeling the comforting hug of approval for his way of life.

We wandered around North Hills, a lifestyle shopping center that resembles a little town with shops and restaurants in a Disney-like setting, with luxury apartments above the shops. Finally, it was determined that it was just too darn hot to be marchin' up and down the square, so we started back to the cineplex. On the way, we passed by the REI store. I was yapping away in my usual manner, and Mike pretended to listen like he always does. Suddenly I realized that I was walking by myself for about 25 feet. I turned around and saw Mike looking in the REI window at the display. He turned to me with a smile and said "Finally, something I can agree with here".

What did he see? A window display with two male mannequins with the tag line "Out is in". You know what? Mike's perception of that display sounds good to me. Nobody should have to hide who they really are.

What did I see? My perception of the display was "go outside more" which I just can't get behind unfortunately. You can get dirty, there are ticks, you could twist your ankle walking on uneven ground, what if you have to pee, you could get a sunburn, could get bitten by a snake.... I will be inside thank you very much.

Maybe REI meant gays should come out of the closet and go camping? Only they know for sure.