Girly Crush

Editor's note: I was going to post this earlier, like Monday or something, but I have for once actually been busy at work. Believe me I am as shocked as you are. Sorry to all of you obsessed fans who can't go a day without your daily dose of Sunday.

Girly Crush: A crush one woman has on another that does not involve romantic feelings, but a desire to share secrets and become BFFS.

I need to just take a moment to tell everyone about my new crush, Rebekka Takamizu. Who is Rebekka and why do I have a crush on her? She is the kick ass guitarist of my new favorite band Eyes Like Knives. I was fortunate enough to catch them playing at the Middle East last Saturday. She is also my new fashion icon. The entire time I watched them play I just wanted to go up to her and tell her how hot I thought her white boots were. So after they played I took a swig of highlife and told her she played great. Adding to my girly crush, she ended up being really cool and gracious. Man, I kind of wish I was a lesbian.

Oh , it's on!

I innocently sent out an email to the office this morning telling everyone I will be leaving on Thursday to travel to Wisconsin to my family. Little did I know that this would turn into an all-out war with the resident FIB (F***ing Illinois B*stard).

My email:
Just a reminder that I will leaving on Thursday for an extended visit to the cheese state. I will be making a staples order sometime this afternoon. If you need something please let me know before 2 pm. I will be back in the office January 3. I know a place that sells discount cheese, so if you want some pepper jack or sharp cheddar, they even have a bag 'o cheese, come on you know you want to...

The Response:
The Wisconsin State Motto: Come Smell Our Dairy Air.

So it is war. I've had paper thrown at me, people dropping by my desk to make fun of the Packers, and I wouldn't be suprised if I find a big ball of cheese on my desk tomorrow. I do have one ally however. I received this email a little while ago:

Shelly:

I had heard a rumor that there was a fellow cheesehead at DDA, and now
I know it's true after Bob* forwarded a couple of messages
concerning Wisconsin and its Dairy Air.

Of course people people like Bob and Daniel* enjoy making
sport of those of us from superior states, but it's only jealousy. We
should feel sorry for them and not be offended.

I'm sending an image of a button you should print and wear proudly
around the office.

The button says "Eat Cheese or Die."

*Names have been changed to protect the innocent and so I don't get fired.

Craptacular, Craptacular

Mind you, I don't usually use such fowl language and I try to stay away from whining about my life (ha!), but I am having a craptacular day or craptastic, if you will. Nothing specific really, just a general crappy haze has been hanging over my head all day. Have you had enough of the word crap yet? I have. Let's think of some other synonyms for a bad day. There's, um, poopy. Sorry, apparently all of my creativity has been zapped as well as my overall sense of well being. Damn, this really is a shitty day. Oh, oh, there's another one. I'm up to three now.

So long Edna, you will be missed!

More items to add to the long list of things that I have learned in Boston.

1. Don't name mice that you see in your apartment
2. Check mouse traps in said apartment often
3. Have kindly male friend who takes care of dead mice on speed dial
4. Dead mice totally freak me out!

Needless to say it was a fun night last night. Thank you Brock! You're the best!

Armed and Fabulous!

Due to the large amount of requests for information on Miss Congeniality 2: Armed and Fabulous, I have provided a link so you can learn more. I have to say I am a little disappointed that neither Benjamin Bratt or Michael Caine will be in the film. Say it ain't so!

Oh, Christmas Tree! Oh, Christmas Tree!

Note to self: never let graphic designers designers decorate anything. This is what I learned yesterday when I was put in charge decorating the company Christmas Tree. It was me and about four graphic designers. There was a 45 minute discussion on which lights to use (white vs. color), 15 minutes devoted to where the lights should be placed on the tree (What will create the most depth?), and finally half an hour spent discussing the location of the colored ornaments (That red clashes with the yellow). All in all it took about 2 hours to do. Next year I'm grabbing the office manager (the only other non-art person) and throwing up the decorations in 10 minutes. None of this coordinating and trying to make things look nice nonsense. At least I had the James Brown Christmas CD to see me through.

Oh, and I was forced to dim the lights by my desk so that the people could see the Christmas lights better. I think I might be losing my eyesight.

"Shelly Shellerson"

In my depths of boredom today I tried Googling myself. I was very disappointed to find that I only came up one time. One time! How depressing. The one website on which I appear is for the Art History newsletter from college announcing my graduation. Man, I have start finding out how to get on more websites. Maybe I should start signing more online petitions or start using my real name on here. I'll try to stay away from porn, but you never know I might get desperate...

Further Proof that I Attract the Crazies

So I don't know what it is. I seem to be a magnet for crazy dudes. Not crazy ladies, just he dudes. Like a beacon I seem to draw them to me. Do I give off some sort of signal that you can only hear if you are crazy? Am I my own personal crazy dude dog whistle? What? Why? And who are these crazy people?

Exhibit A:
On Sunday while waiting for the bus (Yes, the bus) some crazy dude CROSSED THE STREET in order to talk to me. He risked life and limb; dodged cars just to talk to me. Now, normally I would be flattered, but it was dark and no one was around and he kept calling me "sir." There was no one else around so I knew he was talking to me. I deftly avoided him by ducking into a coffee shop right behind me. Maybe I overreacted, but it was dark out and I am still around to tell my tale.

Exhibit B:
I was on the phone with a friend of mine last night detailing all of the crazies that seem to have descended on me like a plague of locusts, when she reminded how every time we hung out there was always some Crazy Crazerson trying to talk to me. There was the weird guy who ran up to me and tried to hug me and tell me he loved me. There are a vast assortment of others weirdoes too numerous to name.

I think that I'm going to ask my doctor next time I go into to get a checkup if I possibly have some sort of strange medical condition emits pheromones that only attract men that have recently been released from asylums.

Please Don't Judge Me

Is it wrong to be really, really, really excited for Miss Congeniality 2? Will it be good? Or will I be just as disappointed as I was when I went to Charlie's Angels: Full Throttle on opening night? Only time will tell I suppose.

Band Slated for Guest Spot on the O.C. in a Year

My attempts to see Blonde Redhead at the Paradise last night were thwarted when I discovered that the show had been rescheduled to Sunday. I was forced instead to enjoy the sounds of Violet Nine, a band formerly from Boston who now reside in New York. It didn't take long to discover that I did not like them. I don't exactly know what put the nail in the Violet Nine coffin. Perhaps it was the fact that they sound like a Maroon 5 cover band. Maybe it was the lead singer's signature dance move of pointing up. What's the matter Johnny? Do you need to remind yourself not to sing flat? Do you want to distract the audience from the fact that your band is mediocre by saying, "Hey look up there. See that?" I don't know. All I could do the entire time that I watched them was think, "Yep, they'll be playing at the Bait Shop in a year or two. I'm sure Seth Cohen will be really excited."

Creepy T Story #83

Riding the T on a Saturday night can be quite interesting. Continuing on with the theme that I attract weirdos, I think I need to modify that to add that I attract drunk weirdos. On the way to the Paradise last night I got on the train and sat down. Some guy standing across from me slurred something at me, "Sumlurrr scarves." "What? You like my scraf?" "No, thur sim-u-lar." I really didn't want to point out the fact that my scraf is plaid and his was striped. Whatever Mr. Slurry.

On the way home, the train was really crowded. A seat opened up, but it was next to a guy dressed as Santa. I had to weigh my options, sit next to a drunk santa or stand the rest of the way home. My laziness won out (as it usually does) and I sat down. "So what do you want?" drunk Santa slurred. "What?" "You know I have connections I can get you on the good list" "Connections like elves and reindeer?" (I couldn't help myself) "No, my wife! My wife makes the list! Not the elves!" "Ok there Santa, don't get too excited now." "So what do you want" "How about the tall drink of water by the door who isn't dressed as a jolly old elf." Luckily Santa got off pretty quickly. I mean, really what guy in his twenties goes out dressed as Santa? Loser. Lesson learned next time I will just stand.

My Fabulous New Calendar

My roommate Nicki came home in a bad mood the other. Work was not an enjoyable experience it seems. I had the perfect thing to cheer her up. I got a brand new 2005 calendar from my insurance company with, wait for it, an Armed Forces theme! Hot! Of course how could you not break out in smiles knowing that for the next year you will be able to stare at pictures of black hawk helicopters. The calendar has already been given a place of honor in our apartment.


September's entry. Whoo-ee!