A room with a view

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

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

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

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

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

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....

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

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

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

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?

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...

Does every moment have to be memorable?

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

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....

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...

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....

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

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A new gremlin

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....

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

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…

everyone needs a silent sentinel

Have you ever been really affected by a character in a
book or movie? How many women wished they were a call
girl just like Julia Roberts in Pretty Women? How
many men thought it would be cool to be Tom Cruise in
Top Gun? Many I'm sure. On my street, there is
someone who identifies with the Ralph Macchio
character of Daniel-San in the Karate Kid. Perhaps it
was the majesty of the Crane pose Daniel takes at the
end of the movie, to foil his foe, or maybe it was the
struggle of learning "wax on, wax off" that touched
him so.

The Daniel-San superfan wants to reinforce the magic
of this character by making his presence present in
every day life. How does he do it you ask? By
leaving an oh so haunting photo of Daniel-San in
public areas, watching over us like silent Karate
sentinel can do...look for Daniel-San photos in your
neighborhood, you'll see he's watching over you too...

US VS. BEASTS

The ingenuity of man...

It's what separates us from beasts - the ability to
communicate with whatever is around.

I have deciphered that the person that wrote this
message was asking for medical assistance. I think he
only had enough sauce to write S - ER - which I have
translated into "Send the Emergency Response".

I'm guessing his arteries told him he had one McNugget
too many...

Still wrestling?

There is nothing like a demonstration at lunch time in San Francisco. The crowd was too thick for me to get a good view, but my buddy Joseph gave me the lowdown.
A group of people set up a kiddie swimming pool filled
with Tofu and soy cheese. Cheeky chicks in bikinis were
wrestling in it. The group behind this vegan display was PETA, who
was asking the crowd if they were "Still wrestling
with the idea of Tofu?". If any of you knew me when I
was growing up, the Fisher family embraced Tofu like
no others....

I didn't have my camera with me unfortunately when I
was in the midst of things, so I ran back up to my
office and took a picture from the window before I had
to go to a meeting. Of course there was a tree in my
way- curses! The photo, while far away, gives you a
flavor for the escapade.

What didn't make it into the photo was a lone family
of 5, standing across the street with a sign up saying
"real families eat meat"

They didn't have a crowd standing around them.
Perhaps if they were in bikinis?

Dangerkitty

Irrational fear #27:

I worry that when my back is turned while transferring my clean clothes from the washing machine to the dryer, the kitty that lives in the "silence of the lambs" inspired laundry room in the basement of my apartment building, will climb into the dryer without me noticing.

I fear that I will turn on the dryer, and not notice any howling or wailing the cat may do. I imagine opening up the dryer to find my clothes covered in cat pieces and tufts of hair, yet still surprisingly "downy fresh"...

Signs of the Times

As you are all aware, we are bombarded by visual
messages every day. Some are witty, some are stupid,
some are irritating. Each morning whilst standing at
the bus stop I see the attached message. It's a sign
posted in the front garden of our neighborhood drug
rehab halfway house. I'm sure its an inspirational
reminder for all that stay there. However, for me, I
am not inspired, I just get annoyed. It's just to
much like a saying that one would find on a plaque
that could be purchased at "Successories" replete with
a photo backround of a sunset at the seaside with the
silhoutte of a seagull in the corner.

I think that they should put more signs around the
city like that - such as "if you put one foot in front
of the other, you will go forward". Anybody else have
any ideas for signs?

They are out there....

It was January 3rd, and I was at LAX waiting at the curb to check my bags in on the way back to San Francisco. I was in a fairly long line to check in the curb, but it was far better than the lengthy line serpentined back and forth inside the terminal. I was in my own zone, tuned into my i pod and watching the hillbilly girl two spots in line ahead of me flirting and fawning over the hot guy standing in front of me. I tried to figure out if he was someone famous, but based on the entertainment trivia I know he wasn't ringing any bells for me. I got bored watching the show between hillbilly girl and hot guy so I tuned out and looked around.

Something caught my eye near the stop sign at the curb. It was a white sticker afixed to the pole of the stop sign. I squinted the best I could (which I hate to do - hello crowsfeet!), but couldn't make it out. I had to wait until the line crept forward so I could see what the white sticker said. Once I could finally read it, it was a black and white graphic of the face of Andre the Giant - undoubtedly the largest man ever to be a professional wrestler/actor. The sticker said that Andre had a posse. Now, as Andre is no longer with us, I was perplexed as to why there may be a posse out there. If there is then lets hope they are a positive posse rather than a n'er do well posse. I snapped a pic to commerate the thought and then moved on to check in my bags.

Fast forward to the first weekend in March. I was visiting in Minneapolis and was driving down Lyndale Avenue in Uptown with my pal Bud, chatting away. As we waited at a stoplight at the corner of Lake and Lyndale, my eyes were caught by a large black and white image on the wall of a building, above Big Mike's Sub Shop. I cried out to Bud "it's the posse!". Bud's head whipped around from side to side looking for a band of marauders (assuming I spied some sort of crazed group coming down the road toward us). What I was pointing to was the large face - about 5 feet tall - of Andre the Giant, the same picture that I saw on the sticker at LAX.

After seeing Andre's face again in Minneapolis, at first I was amused, then pensive. I'm still curious as to what this posse is up to...hopefully good - rather than no good.

If you experience a posse sighting - let me know.....

turn the light off when you leave the room, for the dog's sake

I have the tendency to fall asleep with the TV on. I like the noise, it distracts my busy brain so I can sleep. I normally wake up around 5 ish in the morning, lay in bed half asleep, kind of listening to what's happening in the world on the news and trying to will myself to wake up eventually.

This morning, I woke up a little more abruptly as it processed something that it heard on the news at 5 AM. Our creative Gavin Newsome, the San Francisco Mayor that brought you gay marriage (go Gavin!) and wanted to give the whole city free wireless internet (I wish...) has taken it upon himself to free our fair city from the dependence on fossil fuels and other countries to power our energy demands.

Gavin wants to harness the power of the puppies. Power of the puppies? Little dogs harnessed and running on treadmills in some sort of pet power plant? Nope. Not the plan. The plan is to collect the dog poo of San Francisco, allow it to ferment, and then use the resulting methane gas to power the city. The news report quoted that 4% of the garbage in San Francisco is dog poo!

Apparently waste cans will be put in the parks along with biodegradable bags so all the poo can be collected. For those of TFK readers out there currently looking for an employment opportunity in the bay area, I think some new poo collection positions will be opening soon.

Talk about working hard for your money. I'd like to thank in advance all puppy poo collectors as it could be one of the worst jobs ever. When I was on dog sitting detail for the ex roomie, dealing with what the dog did in the park every morning was a little more than I could handle sometimes.

Also - a little shout out to the dogs, hopefully a high fiber diet is all they need to be successful in this endeavor. Plus, if it's a success...will there be pressure for them to perform more often? You know how Americans can be. Something takes off, and we just want more more more. There could be some very exhausted dogs in San Francisco in the fairly near future. One may see a lot of pooches laying on the ground like the dear departed Ranger, the star of today's picture post.

but one more time with feeling. eeewwww poo.

Just add an extra vowel...no one will notice

As I strolled down the lanes in Brighton, England with my pal Amy, I came across a shop where one can fulfill all their rocker needs. What are rocker needs you ask? You know, the usual...skin tight jeans, leather studded accessories, Sid Vicious t shirts etc. As they were having a sale, I thought it was the perfect place (06 Christmas gift spoiler ahead family and friends) to pick up some lovely studded dog collars for all the girls, and some sassy leather studded cod pieces for the boys this holiday.

As I approached the shop, I noticed there were some challenges relating to grammar on the storefront. I was overwhelmed by the creative spelling of the word "closeing". It could be my my ignorance in the differences between American english and English english - you know color vs. colour, realize vs. realise. Or perhaps they have an employee outreach program for the spelling challenged, and they didn't know any better when they made the sign. I personally think it's because the "t" is missing from the sign above the shop - changing the shop name from the former Electric Rock to Elec ric Rock. I think they said "add an "e" to closing...maybe it will detract from the "t" that is missing in the sign".

I'm sure it was a Brit that stole the "t" - you know how much they love their t(ea).

Man. I crack myself up.....

Hard Rock Hotel...I really expected more

As I looked through photos on my computer for blogging fodder, I came across a photo I took while in Las Vegas last fall. I was staying at the Hard Rock Hotel. If anyone has ever stayed there before, one is well aware of the tremendous amount of musical history memorabilia that graces practically every surface of the hotel.

One spot that really doesn't have memorabilia is the elevator. It makes sense, it's a small space, plus with all the antics that go on in those elevators with the youthful clientel that frequent the hotel, it's just putting the memorabilia in danger. To give the elevator that rock and roll feeling, they are carpeted with leopard print carpet and quotes from songs of various rock acts.

As I hit all the elevators at one time or another, I felt a connection to one more than the rest. Which one you ask? Why, it's the one that has a Prince quote posted. Why that elevator - why the connection? I don't know...maybe because I'm from Minnesota? Maybe because I used to hang out at Prince's club Glam Slam when I was in my 20's and used to see him there, prancing about in high heel boots, lace jumpsuits and sucking on tootsie pops? Maybe because I memorized all the words to "Purple Rain"? Not sure. Whatever the reason, it caused me to take a photo of the quote in the elevator.

As I prepared to post this picture to this posting, I wondered - what song is the elevator quoting? I went through my mental library, humming the songs I thought I knew the words to. When my brain failed me, I turned to the internet, going to a website devoted solely to the lyrics of Prince songs. As I searched through all 360 songs, I finally came upon the song where the quote comes from. It was "Let's Go Crazy". Imagine my surprise, as I thought I knew the words to all the songs on that album - it was a pivotal release during my sophomore year in high school - if you were anyone - you knew the words to that album.

According to the website the song lyric is "Are we gonna let de-elevator bring us down" not "don't let the elevator bring you down" as illustrated. I don't know who to believe. One would think the Hard Rock Hotel would be accurate in quoting a pretty famous song. But maybe the website is wrong? Prince lyrics can be hard to translate some times, heck, my sister in law thought for years that "little red corvette" was "pay the rent colette". I don't give her too hard a time - she grew up in Canada. Needless to say, this disparity is rubbing me the wrong way. I'm not sure what I should do.

I know what most would say: "get a life Missy - and get over it"