The kids loves Lyrics Born.

You know what makes it a little worse? When someone in the cubicle next to you starts asking you questions. Hearing builders faintly through the windows is one thing but, as I found out today, being cross-examined while you have your jeans around your ankles is not hot.

So, once my colleague broke the fourth wall, I was left sitting there wondering when a good time to leave was. Would we exit the cubicles and wash our hands together? There was really no need for me to be there anymore. Although still containing 2 cans of V and an Up & Go, my bladder had hung the “back in 20 minutes” sign on the door. Consequently, I was spending time looking around me, trying to guess who the hell had been clipping their toe nails in a work bathroom cubicle…

As it happened, I was beaten to the punch. I stepped out into the light and was alone. That’s right. My new friend is not a hand washer. Our bathroom cubicles are already adorned with notes on bathroom etiquette. Now I am wondering if perhaps the sink area requires similar attention.

What’s is with that?

The end is my favourite part. Did you hear the little “squeak”?

Things I did:

• Jumping off a cliff into the ocean
• Using a hot glue gun
• Seeing ‘Slumdog Millionaire’ and crying almost the whole way through
• Taking part in a drunken & spectacularly unsuccessful attempt to wax a man’s chest
• Cooking a whole fish, Thai-style, on the BBQ
• Watching 3+ hours of TiVo suggestions

And, for those of you who were interested, below are the loo people. On the left, Jordan’s creation. On the right, My abomination. 

My bus ride was fairly entertaining this morning (this is a good thing, because I cleverly left my iPod in a friend’s car).

Firstly, everyone was really friendly at the bus stop… like “after you”, olden-times friendly. Then, a woman was running for the bus and the driver circled the block so she could get on. The smiles and noises of endorsement throughout the bus were almost smurf-like.  But, best of all was when a 4 foot wall of water cascaded out from my side of the bus and showered a complete douche with muddy water.

Except for the fact that I put too much pressure on my phone this morning and am now reduced to factory presets, all is right with the universe.

Anyway, I could feel my pulse in my extremities and wasn’t able to sleep. At all.  Lay there – did not sleep. Then, this happened:

Wake Up Call

George is an early bird. I really thought that the fact I watched 3 episodes of ‘Dirt’ at 3 o’clock in the morning might have given us both an excuse to sleep in, but it did not. We just have sore eyes now.

Today I wanted to buy TiVo and another cockatiel. Is my present state of bleary-eyed stupor trying to tell me that more TV and another bird is not what I need? Or should I just stop buying energy drinks because they have shiny labels?

I think the latter.

So, why all these authorial quotes and profanity? Well, it’s because lately I have noticed more and more people making comments that boost their own ego at the expense of others. When did being a bitch become cool? Was it in 1989 when the teenage daughter in Uncle Buck taught us all how to scowl and say “whatever”? Yes. I think possibly it was. Ah, formative.

Anyway, thinking you are too cool for school is lame. Jean Louisa Kelly can do it cause everyone at her school was wearing a beret at a jaunty angle. There is no reason for that. I don’t care how cold the top, side part of your head is.

Wow. That post degenerated fairly quickly. Just think twice before you blurt out your opinions, I guess is the central point of this post. The underlying theme is my love for the scowling girl in Uncle Buck. Grab it on video cassette.

You watch her scowl turn into love at about the 50 second mark and tell me your heart doesn’t melt. Also, classic freeze frame ending. Gold.

** Also. I have been advised that voicing your opinion that Leisha Hailey is a mediocre musician, in a room of lesbians, is not wise. So, keep that in mind kids.

1. Link the person who tagged you.
2. Mention the rules on your blog.
3. Tell about 6 unspectacular quirks of yours.
4. Tag 6 following bloggers by linking them.
5. Leave a comment on each of the tagged blogger’s blogs letting them know they’ve been tagged.

My attempt to think of 6 unspectacular quirks has not been successful, as yet. I figure they’ll come to me as I type. It’s a good thing I didn’t have to think of 6 spectacular quirks because we would have been waiting for months.

1. I am a magnet for spare change.

If you ask me whether I have any change I will invariably answer “Yes!” and rush to throw it in your direction, because I somehow manage to accumulate large quantities of it, no matter what I do. I had a spring clean on the weekend and found no less than $23.50 in loose change all over the place.

2. I can cry at the drop of a hat.

Even if it’s not a nice hat. I’ve also been known to cry after yawning, at opening credits of movies, during string sections in orchestral pieces, and at Kleenex commercials with really soft duckies in them. This morning, a motherly lady with 3 large bags was running for the bus – she missed it and I got teary. What? She looked sad. Maybe she was going somewhere important!

3. When I hang out the washing, all the pegs have to match.

Now we’re just straying into the mundane. It takes me forever to hang out the washing, because similar items need to be near each other, and all the pegs need to be in pairs.

4. I enjoy cooking much more than I enjoy eating.

“But Kate, how have you managed to retain such a colossal amount of weight?” I hear you ask. Well, I guess it’s my genes. Or my inactivity. Or perhaps I have developed an eating disorder because imaginary people who I thought were my friends ask me about my weight in blog posts! Rudeness.

5. I can hardly ever think something without saying it.

Whether it’s relating a situation to an episode of The Simpsons, or freaking someone out on a bus by asking them what perfume they’re wearing, if it’s in my head it’s probably going to come out of my mouth. Or, I’ll blog about it.

6. I think I might have a quote or factoid about nearly everything.

Annoying, isn’t it? Want to know where the term ‘breaking the ice’ comes from? It’s not worth looking up, it’s about shipping and trade. Yes, I was hoping it was about blended ice drinks, too. But there are many etymological extensions and word origins associated with getting drunk… if you get drunk with me, I’ll bore you with them.

Right. I hope that was less painful for you than it was for me. Somehow I doubt it, but in order to spread the love, I now tag Jordan, Glen and Peggy.

dastard \DAS-terd\, noun: – a mean coward

True to form, I am able to relate this to something from TV, namely Dick Dastardly the villain from the cartoon Speed Racer. Do you remember that show? It had a great theme song that was turned into a not-so-great rave anthem in the horrible mid nineties. Thinking back, my love of Dick Dastardly might explain my love for words like ‘skullduggery’ and my ALL TIME favourite ‘headfuckery’.

This is Dick:

Best. Villain Pose. Ever.

Dick is dastardly.

I probably didn’t know how clever his name was when I was little but I really appreciate it now. I think the good people at Hanna-Barbera would feel good about that. I’d write them a letter but I really only write letters for financial gain now. Yes, the merits of complaint letters have been made known to me. Watch out corporations.

Oh, I’ve been tagged for this… tag thing, where I have to write 5 things and then tag a few people. But I haven’t thought of the 5 things yet. I’ve thought of 2. I foolishly mentioned to Crystal that being tagged on a blog “wouldn’t be that bad” and so she tagged me.

I just said ‘tag’ and ‘tagged’ a lot in that paragraph. I should re-read and edit it. Meh.