Thursday, April 29, 2010

Green Green Green

Kermit the Frog is green. Grass is green. Broccoli is green. So is asparagus, mold, money, and the sheets I have on my bed.

Green is on the minds of everyone these days, and rightfully so. I much prefer green over that dreadful brown or black or beige or grey or neon blue.

People too are green... with envy. Oh yes, believe me.

These past few weeks I was working long, long hours and didn’t have time to get to the gym. That all ended last week when the project I was working on finished production, and along with the job ending so did the craft food table, the catering, and all the junk food to keep the carbs wrapped around my waist like a pitbull on a rampage.

This week I’ve been diligently heading to the gym to tone up. And yesterday while I was hanging from the pole doing my pull ups I noticed people were watching me. Ooh, it felt good.

And then as I was doing crunches I saw other people stealing glances. Ooh, I must be looking tight I thought.

And it happened again as I was doing push ups. Wow, my butt must be really looking good.

Then as I was strolling across the gym - full of confidence and adding a swagger to my strut - I saw even more people checking me out. My ego was swollen. I was convinced everyone was green with envy for my toned body.

When I got to the locker room one of the gym trainers approached. I braced myself for the compliment every kid who grew up husky awaits...

“Where did you get that thing?”

What? The trainer was pointing to the dangling thing in front of me. My smooth beautiful 9 1/2 inches of steel... my new green Steelworks water bottle. Oh that.

Deflated and defeated, I told him he could order it online, blah, blah, blah...

As I was leaving the gym I looked in the mirror and saw that fat husky teen with the baby fat that just won’t melt away no matter how many miles I run on that stupid treadmill.

Damn, I need a new gym.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Where's Tonya?

This morning I was minding my own business walking down the street when a sign posted on a telephone pole caught my attention. I stopped and read it, and read it again.
If you cannot read the writing it says:

[Picture taken 2 years ago] Last seen September
3rd. Frequents discount sushi bars and video game
arcades. If you see her, tell her Maria is sorry about the
ice cream and to come home.

I immediately set out to find Tonya. I could feel the pain that must be piercing Maria’s heart knowing her imaginary friend was lost somewhere in the neighborhood.

I roamed the streets silently screaming “Tonya, Tonya, Tonya!”

She didn’t pop out of the bushes. She didn’t come running across the street when the walk sign blinked “walk.” She didn’t step off the bus after an excursion to the arcade and discount sushi bar. No. Tanya was nowhere to be found.

Was she dragged away by a rabid coyote? Was she abducted by aliens?

Tired and despondent I wandered home. There were tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart.

I stumbled up the stairs to my second floor apartment and when I opened the door there was Tonya with my imaginary friend Barry enjoying chocolate chip pecan ice cream and giggling happily. What joy! What bliss!

It was clear to see that Barry was totally enamored - dare I say in love - with the beautiful Tonya. I knew instantly that Maria didn’t deserve an imaginary friend as special as Tonya.

Tonya danced for us and showed us how she’s double jointed, and when she sang she sang eloquently in tongue.

Her voice is melodic. Her bending mesmerizing.

We’re a happy family now.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Double Fun Evelyn

Okay, sometimes I admit my taste in pop culture has lapsed into schmaltz and embarrassment.

There was that unfortunate time in the 80s when I permed my hair and sang full voice to Michael Bolton songs.

And then in the 90s it didn’t get much better. Gone was the perm and shoulder pads but my inner schmaltz blossomed like a pimple on a chin. The macarena anyone? How about that achey breaky heart?

As the new millennium dawned I woke up and rejected my inner geek and transformed myself. I can now proudly stand totally vertical and announce that I am cool, hip, happening, and even cooler (and on a dark cloudy day quite sexy).

How do I maintain this way? I listen to people and absorb all that they’re saying and explore it on my own.

From across the ocean and the land of royalty, Big Ben, and fish and chips I have come to rely on Owen to be one of the barometers of what I should be listening to. He’s got eclectic taste and has introduced me to a variety of incredible music.

This time it's the brilliance of Evelyn Evelyn.

I love the name Evelyn. It’s a complicated name full of contradiction, silly rhythm, and a tinge of naughty, naughty.

You must watch this video. I am mesmerized, strangely aroused, and swollen with joy every time I click “play.”

So without any further babbling I present Evelyn Evelyn singing the ultra hip “Have You Seen My Sister Evelyn?”

Don’t you wish you were an Evelyn?

Sunday, April 04, 2010

What’s That Smell?

A couple of weeks ago I made my yearly trip to Indian Wells, CA for the Paribas Tennis Finals, and like every year it was a terrific time.

Here are some pics as we drove into Palm Springs:
I just love the desert.

We first watched the Women’s final and the champion was Jelena Jankovic and then Ivan Ljubicic took the Men’s title. Great matches. Great sportsmanship. Great speed on those serves! If I could only play that well.

Afterwards we ventured to Palm Springs for dinner at a posh restaurant (very 60s swinging decor) and that’s where the “incident” happened. Oh yes, an incident.

After drinking lots of water at the tournament I had to pee so badly that I politely excused myself from the table and hurried into the Mens Room. I tossed my backpack on the counter by the sink and rushed to the urinal. Phew, I made it in time.

As I was peeing I smelled something. It wasn’t a pleasant smell. I thought to myself, “Asparagus?” No, that wasn’t it.

I continued peeing and the smell kept getting stronger, and it was getting more intense, like burning rubber. I glanced behind me to the stalls and they were empty. Hmm I thought, what could it be? Did someone not flush? Was there a sudden plumbing failure and the toilets were overflowing?

I quickly looked down at my feet and nope, no sewage rising like an incoming tide.

Finally I finished peeing, and the smell was even worse.

After zipping and adjusting myself I turned to the sink and that’s when I saw it. Fire. Flames about four inches high were coming from my backpack. I quickly ran to the sink and with a firefighter’s skill I turned on the water and splashed the inferno and blew at the same time. The flames died. The smell remained.

What caused the fire? In my quest to get to the urinal I tossed my backpack onto a lit candle.

Can you imagine what would’ve happened if I had to #2 and went into a stall?