I met an "B" actor from a movie today

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?

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

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

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

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

A New Auteur on the Scene

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

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

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

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?

Apparently Jesus was a street fightin' man?

HOT. DAIRY. PORN

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...

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

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

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.

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

"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.

Urban camouflage

This one's been tickling in the back of my brain....there may be a diabolical agent among us here in North Cackalack. Each day I drive by a giant pine tree - or is it? My mind has considered the possibilities:

1) A cell phone tower feeling anxious and ostracized because it stands out as metallic and cold while surrounded by hearty, lush trees, to which it has transformed itself like a chameleon to fit in with it's surroundings.

2) A CIA spy tower - hidden in the midst of suburban Raleigh, listening in on all of the daily drama facing the yuppies of the 21st century.

3) An alien robot/machine hidden here waiting for it's orders from it's home planet to take over Earth like in War of the Worlds.


In reality, its probably just that all of the status seeking up and comers in this development of North Raleigh does not want to look at a cell phone tower everyday, so they demanded a faux finish on this bad boy, so every day is like Christmas at Kmart.

I hope they at least put flashing Christmas tree lights on it for the holidays for maximum tackiness.

I must be growing up

It's official.
I am too old to watch MTV's "The Real World" anymore.

That's okay, I have now filled that position with the newest pinnacle of trash, VH1's "Bret Michael's Rock of Love". Truly what fine entertainment should be.

Snack Time in the South

It's 3:30. My mind is having a hard time focusing on writing copy for a project at work. My stomach is grumbling - that Campbells "soup at hand" just isn't sticking to the ribs like I thought it would. I need a snack. I'm going to grab some change and go to the lunch room where the vending machines are to get a little something to get me going.

As I push the buttons of the vending machine, browsing for options, it hits me again that I live in the south. How does it hit me? By coming across Instant Grits as a food option in the office vending machine. I guess I have the choice between the grits, or vienna sausages in a can, or good 'ol pork rinds..

yum. not.

What would you do?

Before making a major decision, do you question what
decision another would make in your shoes?

I often try to think what my father would do when
making a decision, as his choice would most likely be
the most sensible. Generally, I have a hard time being
sensible much of the time.

That would make me a “WWDD” i.e. What would Dad do?

If someone was concerned about finding their “spirit”
they would be a WWOD – What would Oprah do?

If someone was unsure about whether or not to shave their head – What would Britney
do?

If someone was unsure of what kind of nose job to get, they would be a WWAD – What would Ashlee do?

This person that drives a green Subaru apparently has
issues with running into ghosts/crooked amusement park
owners, or is always in fervent need of a snack. I
would imagine they have chosen the best example to
follow for decision making as illustrated on their
bumper sticker…