It Would Suck to be Color-blind

There are two (2) Directors in my office, me and "the other guy."

The other guy is color-blind.

So, I keep giving him pens with purple ink... which, according to other men, is NOT OK.

Hee Hee Hee..

The mean-streak continues...

The Lenten Season

Ok, so most of you know I am not Catholic, and after a few discussions at work lately, I believe that I have forced an understanding that I am not Amish either...

JF: "I hear Amish people don't have to abide by the same laws as the rest of society is that true?"
Ali: "Ummmm... I don't know, you DO know that I am not Amish right?"
JF: "Yea, I have seen you drive a car, but besides that it's the same thing, right?"
Ali: "Are you serious?"

Nonetheless, I kind of like Lent. It feels good to have to give something up for a time. (However, I don't buy into the not eating meat or pork or whatever on Fridays business, the fisherman aren't at a loss anymore, that just seems to be inconsequential these days.) Anyway, I usually give something up for lent… which tends to really confuse the people around me.

So, this year I have to say, I may have missed the Lenten spirit. I gave up feeding the Missionaries... WHAT?!? It was too hard! I don't cook. They live in a gated community. And, most nights I don't get home from work until their bedtimes. And, it was stressing me out!!! And, and, and… So, I took a few months off. (I really am serious, ask Cori).

And, it seems I decided to abandon another righteous act, being nice.

I used to be nice. I used to be really do-everything-for-everyone-can't-ever-say-no-anyone-need-a-kidney NICE. But, apparently... not so much anymore. I almost made a lady that I work with cry!

You see, I work for a Contractor, therefore it is pivotal that we have a current contractor's license at all times, for legal purposes. So, it seems that the individual in charge of renewing this license "forgot" after at least 6 reminders from me. And when I pressed her about the issue, not raising my voice at all, but a bit more stern than I usually am, she said "please don't make me cry."

Are you kidding me?!? I was vacillating between saying one of these two things (1) "You are a 47-year-old woman, get it together!" or (2) "There's no crying in baseball!"

But, no, I ended up saying, "I am sorry, I am not trying to make you cry, but this was REALLY important and you're acting like its trivial." To which I received another, "please don't make me cry." I was at a loss, so I turned around and walked back upstairs, where I work with 12 men who NEVER put the toilet seat down, and I found myself strangely OK with that... at least there were no threats of emotional breakdowns.

Is lent almost over yet?

Sage Wisdom

"The only difference between a really good boyfriend and a stalker, is that you LIKE one."

- Natalie Lyman (Jody's lil sister) - The Lymans have all sorts of great life insights!!!

(Jen, this post is dedicated to you, since you wanted it posted.)

No One Dresses Up for the Theater Anymore

So, on Friday, the less-awkward-but-not-by-much part of my weekend, I went to see Wicked with Claire at the Pantages Theater on Hollywood Boulevard. On this night I made 4 very important discoveries...

(1) It is never a good idea to eat at Subway while wearing tulle and fur, people tend to stare at the fanciness of it all.

(2) No one dresses up for the theater anymore. In all our fanciness, we followed in a pack of tweens who were wearing above the knee tube socks, flip flops and lots of denim. To which Claire remarked "it is NEVER OK to wear denim to the theater!"

(3) Turns out most people, not just me, can't go a whole 3 hours without snacking on something.

(4) You definitely need to go farther North on Hollywood Boulevard to find the names of any celebrities you've ever heard of on the star studded walk of fame, there aren't many good ones down by "Argyle Avenue." I guess the Barrymores are past "Vine Street?!?"

Nonetheless, Wicked was absolutely FABULOUS!

Is this really a date?!?

So, I went on a date on Saturday.

How lucky am I?

This guy was darling! He was smart, funny, LDS, in law school, seemed nice, real cute, super sweet, paid for my meal... perfection...

Except, he wasn't MY date.

My friend had been set up with this guy that is the best friend of a mutual friend's little brother. But, she was too shy or nervous or something to go alone, so she brought me ON HER DATE!

It was so awkward. I didn't know when I agreed to hang out with her that I agreed to go on her date with her. But there I was, facilitating a date. AWKWARD!!!

Anyway, I decided that it's a good thing polygamy is out and done for, because I sure could never be the second wife...

Especially, when I am having enough trouble getting to be the first wife.

In Honor of Barney!

Uh oh. There are several people in my office wearing purple today. It doesn't happen often.

With the exception of me, everyone on my floor wears construction boots and jeans most days. But, every once in a while they pull out something fun, like a plum button-up or a lavender polo shirt.

The last time this happened, I also coincidentally, was wearing a purple cardigan. Joe (el jefe) walked into my office wearing his plum-colored button-up, Joe (the estimator) came in wearing a lavender-colored polo shirt and then into my office strolls Joe (the Project Manager) - No Joke, they are ALL named Joe - and he says:

"What the [bleep], is it Barney's birthday?"

So, I figured, it must be his birthday again today.
Happy birthday Barney, thanks for all the years of child entertainment and adult torture! Hope its a good one!

Male/Male Mix-up...

Such is the paradox that plagues me these days!

Have we become an overtly culturally sensitive country these days?

Remember Ali McGraw, Ali Larter, Ali Landry? All relatively well-known in America, all women. I wonder if any of them are having the same problem I am.

Last week I got 27 pieces of mail. 14 of these, mostly stupid companies wanting to give me a loan or a credit card, addressed the mail as follows. MR. Ali Brinkerhoff. Mr.! Followed by, "Dear Sir."

Ok, come on! Does Brinkerhoff REALLY sound Middle-Eastern??? Seriously!

Battle Pay???

So, as I have mentioned, I work in Pomona. And, as I have mentioned, IT IS SHADY IN POMONA. Last year, a friend of mine told me that he feared for my life and so it was his intention to find me a "red Kevlar sweater". Um... so I had no idea what or who Kevlar was, and I know my sweater designers! He informed me it was the maker of bullet-proof vests, but that he was sure I'd refuse to wear one, since they're ugly, so he was going to see what he could do about getting them to make me a bullet-proof sweater. Sure enough, one morning I found a shopping bag on my car with a red sweater (made by Target or something) hand-stitched were the numbers "9-0-9" on the right sleeve and the inside was lined with a pillow, which was sewn in. That was funny back then... but, now, I might actually need it!

The reason my office is in Pomona is not because of it's proximity to the owners, neither of whom would be caught dead (no pun intended) living in the area. One lives in a palatial mansion in Chino Hills and the other "behind the gates" in Coto de Caza. But, our company is in a HUBZone (Historically Under-utilized Business Zone). This gives us special preference for contracts issued by the Department of Defense, our main client. It also puts me in harms way. There is a great reason why the "zone" is under-utilized... fear of impending injury, even death!

So, within the past year there have been 3 SCARY incidents, of which I am aware, (I am sure there are WAY more, but I am trying not to pay attention). Please note, I am not exaggerating! Once I had to drive all the way around the city trying to find a way into the parking lot of my building, because apparently there was a hit and run fatality on the other side of the street, I saw the body covered with a sheet! Aaaahhhh! Next there was a nice couple with their 2 kids in the back seat getting gas about 6 blocks from my office, the husband/father was shot point blank in the head, without cause, and was pronounced DOA. I had to divert my patronage to a new gas station. Actually, I try to pump up in the O.C. these days. The latest happened today. Three contractors got shot on their way to 7-eleven to get something to eat (this is gross, I know, but they are contractors, that’s where they eat lunch), this was about a mile from my office. All three were shot multiple times.

http://www.latimes.com/news/local/la-me-shooting21mar21,1,3115934.story?coll=la-headlines-california&ctrack=1&cset=true

At what point is it appropriate to ask for a raise, not based on performance, but more on fear, I think the military calls this "battle pay"???

Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus

This content of this blog was sent to me last year from my friend Kara... for some reason it is so funny to me!

Remember the book - "Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus"? Well, here is a true life example from the University of Phoenix. An English Professor assigned his students to a joint writing exercise that quickly degenerated - check it out..."Today we will experiment with a new form called the tandem story. The process is simple. Each person will pair off with the person sitting to his or her immediate right. As homework tonight, one of you will write the first paragraph of a short story. You will e-mail your partner that paragraph and send another copy to me. The partner will read the first paragraph and then add another paragraph to the story and send it back also sending another copy to me. The first person will then add a third paragraph, and so on, back and forth. Remember to re-read what has been written each time in order to keep the story coherent. There is to be absolutely NO talking outside of the e-mails and anything you wish to say must be written in the e-mail. The story is over when both agree a conclusion has been reached. "The following was actually turned in by two of my English students. Rebecca (last name deleted), and Gary (last name deleted).

THE STORY:
(First paragraph by Rebecca)
At first, Laurie couldn't decide which kind of tea she wanted. The chamomile, which used to be her favorite for lazy evenings at home, now reminded her too much of Carl, who once said, in happier times, that he liked chamomile. But she felt she must now, at all costs, keep her mind off Carl. His possessiveness was suffocating, and if she thought about him too much her asthma started acting up again. So chamomile was out of the question.

(Second paragraph by Gary)
Meanwhile, Advance Sergeant Carl Harris, leader of the attack squadron now in orbit over Skylon 4, had more important things to think about than the neuroses of an air-headed asthmatic bimbo named Laurie with whom he had spent one sweaty night over a year ago. "A.S. Harris to Geostation17", he said into his transgalactic communicator. "Polar orbit established. No sign of resistance so far..." But before he could sign off, a bluish particle beam flashed out of nowhere and blasted a hole through his ship's cargo bay. The jolt from the direct hit sent him flying out of his seat and across the cockpit.

(Rebecca)
He bumped his head and died almost immediately, but not before he felt one last pang of regret for psychically brutalizing the one woman who had ever had feelings for him. Soon afterwards, Earth stopped its pointless hostilities towards the peaceful farmers of Skylon 4. "Congress Passes Law Permanently Abolishing War and Space Travel," Laurie read in her newspaper one morning. The news simultaneously excited her and bored her. She stared out the window, dreaming of her youth, when the days had passed unhurriedly and carefree, with no newspapers to read, no television to distract her from her sense of innocent wonder at all the beautiful things around her. "Why must one lose one's innocence to become a woman?" she pondered wistfully.

(Gary)
Little did she know, but she had less than 10 seconds to live. Thousands of miles above the city, the Anu'udrian mother ship launched the first of its lithium fusion missiles. The dimwitted wimpy peaceniks that pushed the unilateral Aerospace Disarmament Treaty through the congress had left Earth a defenseless target for the hostile alien empires who were determined to destroy the human race. Within two hours after the passage of the treaty the Anu'udrian ships were on course for Earth, carrying enough firepower to pulverize the entire planet. With no one to stop them, they swiftly initiated their diabolical plan. The lithium fusion missile entered the atmosphere unimpeded. The President, in his top-secret mobile submarine headquarters on the ocean floor off the coast of Guam, felt the inconceivably massive explosion, which vaporized poor, stupid, Laurie and 85 million other Americans. The President slammed his fist on the conference table "We can't allow this! I'm going to veto that treaty! Let's blow 'em out of the sky!"

(Rebecca)
This is absurd. I refuse to continue this mockery of literature. My writing partner is a violent, chauvinistic semiliterate adolescent.
(Gary)
Yeah? Well, you're a self-centered tedious neurotic whose attempts at writing are the literary equivalent of Valium. "Oh shall I have chamomile tea? Or shall I have some other sort of flippin' TEA??? Oh no, I'm such an air headed bimbo who reads too many Danielle Steele novels."

(Rebecca)
Dirt bag.

(Gary)
Bimbo.

(Rebecca)
Get screwed.

(Gary)
Eat crap.

(Rebecca)
SCREW YOU - YOU NEANDERTHAL!!!

(Gary) GO DRINK SOME TEA PSYCHO!!!

(TEACHER) A+ - I really liked this one. Only group to get an A.

Next time let's ALL get our priorities straight.

This one was sent to me by my idol, Julie Jones, back in the fall of 2005 right after Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans.

Checklist for Hurricane Survival:

Mustard......................................check
Cheetos......................................check
Toilet Paper.................................check
Bud Light.....................................check
Keystone Ice................................check
Budweiser.....................................check
Red Dog......................................check
Misc. other bottles of alcohol.........check
Piece of plywood to float your girl and booze on...check.




















Next time let's ALL get our priorities straight.

Never, Never, Never, Ever...

Bryan and Melanie came down from Utah to stay with me for 4 or 5 days, before they were here my friend Kara was here from Colorado, so I haven't had much time to blog.

However, we spent most of the night laughing at really fabulous emails sent to me in years past from various and sundry friends and family members. I figured I'd share some of them with everyone.

First, be warned, not only am I built like a 12-year-old boy, I have the sense of humor of one too. (The following email was sent to me from Gina Benicosa in the winter of 2005 - Thanks Gina!)

Never,Never,

Never,

ever...

fart in a wet suit !!!!!!

Self esteem is easy to obtain.

Back when I was in college, I would go home to Texas to visit my family and friends during the summer. My friend Susan used to house sit at the Howe's house and she would always invite Brooke and I to come play with her. Residing therein was the most ridiculous dog I ever did see. His name was... ??? Well, I can't remember, but that is beside the point, because whatever his name was, we never used it anyway, we renamed him S.E.D. This of course was because, to Brooke and I, this was the "Self Esteem Dog".

S.E.D. was so obscenely fat that his 6-inch legs bowed at the girth of his 45-pound frame. We used to hold food out for S.E.D. in an effort to see him jump... his record high jump was 2.44 inches with his front legs and he cleared absolutely no air with the hind legs. Man, we laughed so hard! Anyway, we always felt better about being on the couch in our P.J.s double-fisting it - imbibing "long neck" Dr. Peppers with the left hand and shoveling Little Debbie snacks in our mouths with the right. Because no matter how we rough we had it, S.E.D. was WAY worse off.

I love my job! I love it for a lot of reasons. One of my favorite reasons is that it's the S.E.J. (Self-Esteem Job). I work in a construction firm in Pomona... where I am currently the hottest thing here by the mere fact that I have all my teeth. (Don't worry, I drive to and from to Orange County every night, which keeps me in tune with reality). Today I was working on selecting photos from my Christmas Party this year to update our company website... where my brother was my date for the 2nd year running... thanks Mo... and I ran across some S.E.P. (Self Esteem Photos), reminding me how much I love my S.E.J., especially for the eye-candy that strolls in now and again.

I can't imagine loving anyone enough to say "yes, I'll go to your semi-formal work Christmas Party... even though I have a broken neck?!?"

This lady was not paid to work at the party... she was a guest of a guy that works for us, the one with the ponytail behind her. But, I so totally wanted to stick a few one dollar bills in her fur collar... Joe said I couldn't. Let me remind you... SEMI-FORMAL!

This guy... well he actually WAS paid. He was the gentleman running the Craps table. It was about 60 degrees, most of us were actually kind of cold in there... not this guy. He left pools of sweat on the Craps table. Do you think this could be some sort of syndrome or something.

See, it's not so bad that I keep taking my little brother, CLEARLY there were better things to look at. Thanks for being my perma-date little bro.

I maintain that you don't have to look very far to make yourself feel more esteemed, just take a S.E.S. (Self Esteem Stroll) down to Disneyland or the nearest airport and you'll instantly feel blessed and hot!

Yet ANOTHER reason it's great to be single.

Groom Hit His Bride With Car
The Associated Press
March 06, 2007

We have a wedding certificate for (March) 4th. They were still honeymooning when he ran her over. It wasn't the most romantic of honeymoons. Police said a groom is in jail, accused of trying to run over his new wife after a weekend wedding in Las Vegas. 'We have a wedding certificate for (March) 4th. They were still honeymooning when he ran her over,' said Lt. Paul Jaroscak, a spokesman for the Salt Lake County sheriff's office.

Police received an emergency call Monday from someone reporting a couple fighting in a car as they traveled on Highland Drive, about 10 miles southeast of Salt Lake City. Katie Martindale, 29, apparently got out of the car and started to walk away when James Olwine, 33, drove off the road and hit her with the car, pushing her into a snowbank, Jaroscak said.

http://www.topix.net/content/ap/2505319066409399152308579220780814320550?threadid=A3OA2U63D0G80NEU

Ummmm... That sucks!

Umm... Houston, we have a problem!!!

Look at this kid! Isn't he cute?

And, by the looks of it, he seems to have things pretty well figured out.

He's only 3 years old, but he speaks 2 different languages, English and French. Well, at least that's the plan. Anytime we don't understand him, which is 97% of the time, we blame on the French accent.

Plus, he's got the memory of a steel trap. Once, when he was about 1, I came over to visit him while chewing gum and blowing bubbles. For the past 2 years every time he sees or talks to me, he calls me "bubbles". (If I ever decide to get a night job that requires a pole, I am totally using that as my moniker.)

So, you can imagine how flattering it was when I found out that my nephew, Christian, thinks I married...

TO MY BROTHER! - Yikes!

No joke. Along with calling me "bubbles", he now constantly asks "where's Mo?" with every encounter. And, according to my sister, Jennica, a few months back he was flipping through his family picture book. "Kimberly and Matthew", "Adam and Julie", "mommy and daddy", "baby Sarah Jane" and then he ran across a photo of me and was totally distraught by the sight of me solo. "Where's Mo? Where's Mo?" He was confused, Mark wasn't with me. Did we break up?!?


Hmmm... I am not sure what to do with this information! I might have to actually take a real (non-familial) date to my work Christmas parties.

And, I guess I could throw him off if I found someone to bring home for the Holidays and other special occasions.

But, until then, I'll just pretend inside my head that "Mo" is French for... Steve... or something!

Odd Jobs

Anyone who knows me, knows how guilt-prone I am. I can't say "no" to anyone or any situation. And, I get worse with age. Lately, I've been volunteering to do things I have no idea how to do. "Ummm, sure we can borrow a truck from Joe and tow all your possessions to Phoenix... what size is the hitch??? that depends, what's a hitch???" - Good times!!!

I especially always say "yes" if it involves a church calling that happens to be mine. Except once!

Last year, when I was a Ward Missionary, my leader, Mike, sent out this email to myself and the 6 other ward missionaries. The email, in effect, talked about some octogenarian who needed 24-hour care for some reason. He asked us if we could take turns caring for this old man (who he'd never even met, by the way). The only task necessitating assistance was CHANGING THE OLD GUYS DIAPERS! - No joke! Then he threw in, "it would be a great missionary opportunity." I wish I could find the email. I tried, really I did. And, I can't imagine why I would have deleted it. Maybe it did so in an attempt to avert my guilt, because I said "no". Call me mean, if you must, but I don't think my gag reflex or future posterity would have survived that task. Eeeww!

I thought that was the oddest job request ever. Until... my old roommate Aubrey sent me this little gem! I think it's pretty much tantamount to the "missionary opportunity" I so cavalierly denied. Her sister just moved to Arizona. Her husband is in Medical School. They are dirt poor and so she started looking for a job. She decided to try the classified section on Craig's List. This is what she found. Again, no joke.

Subject: models needed (Scottsdale) From: mdmcuriel@yahoo.com
Subject: gynecology models needed (Scottsdale)

Gyn models are needed March 10th from 11-1 at Southwest College of Naturopathic Medicine Medical Center in Scottsdale, AZ. Students will be learning diaphragm fittings; each model will have 5-10 students, depending on the number of models. Compensation is $25/hour.

Original URL: http://phoenix.craigslist.org/vol/281619485.html

OH MY GOSH! - Well at least it pays $25/Hour. My "missionary opportunity" was voluntary!

My wedding is going to be WAY more fun than your wedding!

Pipe down. I am not getting married... not anytime soon (sorry mom). But, when I do, my wedding will be more fun than the average wedding.

A year or so ago, while sitting around in our P.J.s (most likely eating junk food), I was asking some friends of mine "if you could have anyone alive or dead sing at your wedding who would it be?" I got all the generic answers you'd usually hear, Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennett, Celine Dion, Micheal Buble, James Blunt, yada yada yada. Nope, not at my wedding! I wanted Lionel Richie! Who doesn't want to celebrate to "Dancing on the Ceiling", "Say you, say me", or "Hello" performed by the vocals of Lionel Richie??? I took a lot of heat for my choice and I have never backed down. I still say, give me Lionel!

But, yesterday my roommate went out of town, so I decided to catch up on some much needed TiVo time. So, I watched the Grammy's that we recorded a month or so ago. Pretty much I navigated through the 4-hour show at rapid pace, checking out the clothes mostly. And then all of the sudden I had to stop the fast forwarding entirely. What was that? Lionel Richie got nominated for a 2006 Grammy Award?!? I rewound it 3x. It is true. He REALLY did!

I have two feelings on this recently discovered triumph for my man Lionel. Complete victory and utter defeat.

1.) I feel so completely vindicated in my choice for a wedding singer. All you nay-sayers. Take That!

2.) But, now I will REALLY never be able to afford to have Lionel Richie at my wedding. Who would have thought he'd ever make a come back?!?

What are the odds that Mr. Big will make a come back? I may have split my vote now.

Defending all smart women...

Ok, so a while back someone asked me this odd question: Do you think your mom or your dad is smarter?

I know, weird question, but I answered it anyway.

Legend has it... well, according to my Grandmother ("G"), my father scored higher than the charts could graph on his LSAT. She is his mother, so there might be a slight bias there. But, in my opinion he is quite erudite AND he has a photographic memory! Needless to say, he scored high enough to be admitted to Harvard, the #1 law school back in 1967. My mom… well, she dropped out of college just one semester shy of graduating. She chose to leave her hometown of Logan, Utah and move to Boston. She took a job as a waitress right outside Harvard. A pretty bright move, if you ask me. She met my dad and...

Basically, I'd say they are both ridiculously smart, but just in different ways.

I bring this up to suggest that "smart", like "beauty", is in the eye of the beholder. It all depends on how you chose to look at a person.

In the wake of Anna Nicole Smith's death, her stories and photographs are annoyingly ubiquitous... in the news, in magazines, on the internet. I remember a few weeks ago when CNN was a prominent source of true news spanning the globe... what went wrong? Since, I can't escape it (and the CD player is currently broken in the Xterra) I find myself occasionally listening to all of the commentary seeping out of KFI AM, spewing words of those who "knew" her well (clearly the biblical meaning would also be appropriate).

I heard the most absurd comments last week. There were several, not just one but SEVERAL, people defending Anna Nicole Smith's intellect. I am assuming these are the same individuals who claimed that although Jessica Simpson failed to realize that Buffalo don't really have wings, her I.Q. was far high enough to qualify her as a MENSA candidate. Then I found this little gem of a photograph and I must admit, my opinion may have vacillated. When bombarded by the paparazzi, would anyone shy of a genius have the natural inclination to strike a pose many species of insects use for survival???

Signs of the times

I am one of those people who would be called "an observer", which is a nice way of saying that I stare at people, a lot. I can't really help it, I just find myself thoroughly amused with people, and I stare! I am sure that someday I am going to get shot or stabbed or both for being an "observer", especially since I spend most of my days in the 9-0-9 (Pomona to be exact), and well... I am sure they don't take kindly to "observers" around these parts, or blonde girls for that matter.

But, as an "observer" I often find myself totally in awe of my surroundings and I am always looking around wondering if anyone sees what I see and if so, why are they not stunned at the ridiculousness of it all! (For example, a while back I saw a man walking down a main thoroughfare in the 9-0-nizzle with his sheep - yes sheep... baaaaa... on a leash... what the?!? Moments like these will now be captured and documented for your enjoyment, just as soon as I learn how to use the camera function on my cell phone. What can I say, I am my mother's daughter... and proud to be!

Good thing I have a pocket-size digital camera. Until I figure out that camera function on my camera phone, I just parked in the parking lot of this jewel of an establishment located on the very same street I saw the sheep-on-a-leash, and sheepishly slouched down in my car to snap this photo. Is it shameful that I find this sign really amusing? Come on, "100s of pretty girls, 3 ugly ones." (See the green portion of the sign). The feminist in me should be mortified that I find this so hilarious... oh, wait, that's right, there isn't really a feminist in me. Ok, I should be fine then.

This incident reminded me of an experience I had a few years back. I was meeting my friend, Jake Stevens, in L.A. for some reason. Anyway, we were trying to decide on a landmark we both knew. He picked the "Nude Nudes" establishment near LAX, because who hasn't seen that sign a gazillion times !?! So, I parked there and I waited... and I waited... and I waited. Until finally a security guard came to my car and asked me to roll down my window... um, ok. He proceeded to ask me if I was looking for a job?!? I said “no thank you.” I furiously called Jake to see where he was, he just laughed. I am pretty sure he was late on purpose!

My very own "after school special"

I finally gave in to the infamous line that has, for decades now, been making tweens on after school specials cave under pressure. “Everybody’s Doing It”… I decided to get a blog.

Ok, ok. So, people have been blogging for a while now... lots of people. Most recently my friend Brooke took up "blogging", and she doesn't even have an Ipod! Lindsay blogs, Reyna blogs, the list goes on and on. I must say, I find each of my friends’ blogs thoroughly entertaining. So, I decided to jump on the band wagon. I am a blogger now! I don't know when I plan to blog, I don't seem to have much free time. I guess I'll have to do it at work, shh... don't tell Joe. 11:33 - that's technically lunchtime right?!?

Besides being inspired by the blogging prowess of friends, I have decided that I have more random thoughts than most. It's about high time I document (a.k.a blog) these, so my family and friends (most living far far away) can miss me properly! - That being said, my mom called me a few months ago really excited "I got a new phone" she squealed delightfully "and it flips!" She still doesn't know how to check her messages though, bless her heart! Point being, I hope the people I know and love the most won't be prohibited from reading this great blog, due to their technological handicaps. I would hate to wax philosophical, in vain.

I will end my first entry with two final thoughts. The first would be a brief explanation of my Blog's name. Many of you know this story. But, many of you also know, I tend to repeat stories I like… A LOT. So you won’t mind hearing it again. When I was a small child I was a total ragamuffin. I was ALWAYS filthy. My other sister, Jennica, was a pristinely groomed child. One day we arrived home from school. I believe I was in "ginderkarten". My mom took one look at us and asked how I managed to get so incredibly dirty every single day, while my sister was always so clean! To this I replied "Dirt just flies up and hits me", a mantra that has followed me throughout my life, albeit more figuratively than literally these days. (I am proud to say, most of the time I come home pretty clean. I would also like to note that my sister often brags about not showering for 4 or 5 days on end! - Who knew?!?)

Secondly and lastly (for now) - I am long winded! – Another trait I am sure you are all painfully aware of. Aren’t I darling?!?

(This should be so much fun).