Tina Fey

I am not sure how anyone else sees this, but Tina Fey is dyno-mite! Smart, attractive, nice skin...what's not to like? I have one question though, have you seen the calves on that mommasita? Wow! She got some hips on her. I love the way she looks in glasses.

I kept my eyes open just long enought to see Adam Sandler get dumped by Drew Barrymore again on a beautiful tropical island. I love that movie. I laugh everytime the penguin ducks beneath the oncoming car. Drews car.

Work is driving me nuts. I took this new, super busy restaurant, and it is driving me crazy! I am about as messy as a person can be, but at work, Mr. Structured. So, at work, at this busy restaurant work, in this shining, yet ailing behemoth of a restaurant, I am going crazy.

I think the state asks themselves every year, how the hell did those kids get by? Oh well, give the bastards a diploma. It's too much trouble not to (the colleges say that anyway). Same thing goes for my managers. I mean, come on! I can't be too specific, but jeez, how did he get by?

It's hard to remain centered and genteel when you want to strangle people for being dim. Dim is something they aspire to.

Anyway, Tina Fey is great and work sucks. Today work sucked. Tomorrow Work will be work. And Tina will still have over sized calves, funny, and pretty hot. Thanks Tina.

Toodles!

Oh, the spell checker sucks on this thing.

The criminal

My youngest, Alaini, is becoming a klepto.

In Alain's class her teacher has "Colitti Cash." It is incentive script that can be used to purchased worthless items that have trumped up percieved value. Kids are so dumb. I have a couple of rocks that I am going to give her for painting the house next week.

Anyway, Alaini was down to one measly dollar and decided to kipe some other kid's mullah. She got busted and sent to the hoosegow. She was assigned the rear most table in total isolation. Now, I know, morality and ethical lessons and all, but, damn I giggled. I bet I won't be laughing when she figures out how to pilfer my ATM card.

It's hard to have a conversation with her about it. It would take too long to explain presicely why, suffice it to say Alaini has her own perspectives. She is a great kid, kind and warm, but societal boundaries kind of evade her. I worry about her sometimes, but I am at a loss as to how to affect change in her. She is also so damn funny and open about it. She will tell you, very frankly, why she did what she did, and sometimes she can even verbalize her thought process. Usually it comes down to impulse control and that is how I know she is not behaving maliciously. Still, I see broken window screens and mommas crashed car in her future. Can you say hellion?

Toodles!

So, I guess this is the coolest hotel in Burbank. It also happens to be one of the cheapest, so yeah, it's pretty cool. It's got wireless, and now I can steal it when I need to. Sweet!!

I also enjoy the fact that it is kind of old. I won't feel bad about leaving a damp towel on the bed if they don't feel bad about the peeling paint. Even Steven.

Amy, my betrothed, keeps asking me why I never write about her. It's not that I never write about her, it's just that I don't share her with the world. You know those guys that come up and can't contain their exhuberance as they say, "Dude, look at the picture my girlfriend sent me." Your picture of your naked girlfriend makes me ashamed of you. And she's pretty hot too so you don't deserve her, except she sent you naked pictures, you two aren't married, so maybe that's what she gets. Let me see that phone again!

I wouldn't know what to say really, without it feeling contrived. I don't write about my feet and my hair either, but they are central and everpresent in my daily life too. I guess she is looking for the "ode to my wife" stuff, but I much prefer the, "My wife gave herself poodle hair yesterday." She really did, by the way. Shirley Temple never had so many curls.

I guess sometimes the ones closest to those of us that would like to consider ourselves literary may not always get how it works. I don't always write about the most important things, and when I do, I don't necessarily want to share them. Some things belong to just me.

Speaking of sharing...segue...I have a very long time friend who is into..."Sharing." I never really was able to grasp that concept. She and her husband are "open" to experiences, and I always was baffled by how that could work. I, like most males, might find your spouse attractive, but someone is donating an appendage before he gets close to my wife with anything other than a message for me.

Maybe I'm prudish.

Still, the thought that a person would willingly share their "other" with someone else is...it makes me feel pukey. We talked about it once, my friend and I. We e-mailed actually. It's a more open conversation that way. She spoke reasonably about her belief, and I passionately about my incredulity, but there was no meeting of the minds. She mentioned I might be a little insecure. Guess so. My wife's still staying home with big daddy. You can keep your wife too. Even Steven!

Toodles!

Jason said the last four on the list were jumbled and, instead, should have just said;

"Me me me me me...."

Thanks Jason.

Me me me me....

;)

10 things

Ok, this is from the phone, so bare with me (11 would be too much):

1. I feel guilty for a lot of the 20-year old stuff I did. I know, young and nuts, but I still run into people and hope the won't stab me. Sweet!

2. I, too, am painfully shy, something most would find ludacrous. It's true. I'm the guy you went to highschool with who puts his head down when he sees you at the mall. Painful!

3. I have mixed feelings about the whole "Love" concept. When I was young, which I am no longer, I obviously believed love should burn nova hot. Later, I found myself describing the "in for the long haul" mantra. 8 years later the mix is baffling to me. I think the job and travel interfere with my investigation here. Hmmm.

4. I'm a huge family guy. That's all that matters to me really. When I get dropped 6 feet under I know they'll be there. Morbid, but true.

5. I love comic books. Totally serious about this. I could spend a week in any Barnes and Nobles rolling around in comics like a drunk lottery winner. Seriously, it's a problem. Funny thing though; I don't buy them. That's why trips to the book store for me are equatable to how a crack head would feel if Everest suddenly morphed into Cocaine-Bliss.

6. I ask impertinent things in impertinent ways. Keeps things lively. I have no boundaries. I don't believe in them...in certain company. Screw all you old highscool people.

7. Did I mention I didn't like highschool much? I was pretty popular too, but didn't care for it much. All my best memories are from college. As a matter of fact, I wish I was there now, enjoying some sort of life furlough that no one knew about. You know how people personalize things and get their feelings hurt. Not about you folks!

8. Everything is about you folks. I have been reading a lot of my old stuff (really poor) and I realize how self absorbed I was with my introspection. I didn't know that my interaction with all of you was as important as how I felt about it. I focus on that interaction now as I have ultimately burned up all the self-absorbing introspection allotted me this lifetime before I was 24. Talk about wasting resources! I'm 36 and I don't even think about Corvettes!

9. I am extremely sensative. As a matter of fact, other than the front side apendage I believe I am a woman. Oh, no boobs, dammit! I like mushy movies, intense emotional dramas, hell, I don't even need Hallmark commercials because those incontinent commercials have me tearring up. I want for people. I feel for people. It's weird and nobody believed it, but I do. I have a tear right now. Melancholy was it?

10. I'm searching. I've always been like that. Self absorbed early, defing myself through you later (the all inclusive you), and now wondering what it is that I should be doing that best utilizes what I can do. Should I have been a therapist or college professor? How much should I be writing right now. What's my style (it's been a really long time)? There difined roles I acknowledge and embrace; father, husband, employee/employer, etc. What of the rest? My writing doesn't always fir in those areas. Not sure it should. Not sure it shouldn't. Searching.

Wow! Feel like that could go on for awhile but I have work to do and my thumb is numb from the tiny little keybord taps on my I-Phone (I'd use the laptop but apparently that's against policy). Ow, just got a sharp pain or cramp on my forearm.

Toodles

So I started at a new restaurant last week. Not a new "Concept," but a new one of my old ones...you know what I mean.

Starting new is, well, uncomfortable. It's like getting involved with a new someone that you know ahead of time is going to extract a little bit of your soul from you. And still, I venture on.

In my business, or any I guess, you go where they send you or you go away. It's a little tough out there job wise, so I went with the going. The location I was sent to is nice, top five in the company, but it adds substantial travel time, and then there is the "new guy" syndrome.

Nobody really likes the new guy. It's like he smells like yesterday's tuna; strong and ever present.

Add to the "new guy" stench being the new boss and the olfactory glands start screaming. I always pay careful attention to those perma scowls that greet me on the way in. I guess people pee on their territory in a myriad of ways. Peeing on me never gets too far.

People should try to understand that being the new guy, much less the new boss is as daunting as being the ones subjected to said tuna stench. You think I like the smell any better than you?

I take comfort in knowing that much like the couple who buys the house next to La Guardia, these people to will eventually say, "What?" Noise and smells take some getting used to, but they generally blend into the background if they hang around long enough.

My oldest got caught lying to her mom about talking to a boy on the phone and was grounded for two weeks. Her mother called me to tell me as much and asked for my support when my daughter comes over to my house (you're following, right). She also told me that during the confrontation she may have referred to me as stupid once or twice. I giggled a bit, but kept the uncomfortable silence as elongated as possible. Only my wife gets to freely call me stupid...after a couple Grey Goose on the rocks.

I find it interesting that I am not as restrictive as my ex-wife about this whole talking on the phone to boys thing. She lets my 12-year old daughter wear mascara and lipstick, but keep the boys away from that talky thing. There is some type of disconnect there, but what do I know, I'm stupid.

Our Halloween pumpkins finally went by the way of motorized lift and dump this morning. I'm sure that if I could smell them they would have been ripe (I know, no smell and then with the tuna analogy right?). They got all hairy and gnat infested, and that was the most bothersome thing to me. Pumpkins and their carving take a lot of care. There is this whole "soak in water" process to keep them plump and vivacious. I don't take that much time to groom myself, much less preserve a pumpkin. Glad it's only once a year.

Well, I should sleep. I have a four hour turn around and I wouldn't want to disappoint Ms Perma scowl.

Toodles!