Chivalry is dead.

Dear Whoever is reading this,
Once upon a time, I woke up and in my horror realized it was Monday. I have to say this has been a particularly rough Monday. I had a wicked awful hangover yesterday and it seems that it had crept into my Monday morning. I didn't feel bad, but my eyes were swollen and basically I was looking like a truck ran over my face. Yea for Monday. So last week there was a cute electrician replacing lights in the building. This was an act of God I am sure, because we never have any work done in this dump. If you don't believe me, come see my office. So one of the warehouse guys, let's call him Mr. tank top, told me that he notified this cute electrician that there happened to be a blond checking him out. FYI - the blond is me, there are no others in this building. His response was a smile, and then Mr. tank top found out he would be returning Monday. Mr. tank top is very sweet and took great care in finding me a nice tall man. So in my fog of a morning, I still managed to straighten the beast of hair on my head, and wore purple. I've been told it brings out my eyes. Well he came by, even mentioned that I smelled good. Smiled all the while and then when the lights were installed, he was gone. Naturally. This may be the story of my life.

I should have worn a pony tail.

NOW, get ready for the rant, because here it comes. Wikapedia (and yes I know you cannot actually site this as a reference as I have been told by every grad school teacher I have had) says this: Chivalry[1] is a term related to the medieval institution of knighthood. It is usually associated with ideals of knightly virtues, honor and courtly love. The word is derived from the French word "chevalerie", itself derived from "chevalier", which means knight, derived from "cheval", horse (indicating one who rides a horse). Well folks, chivalry it's DEAD. The men who I have grown up with that are the same age as me do not know what manners are, or even how to court someone. So Mr. Pringle tells me today that if I want someone then I have to go get it. Find a man, ask him out and yadda, yadda, yadda. OMG, I am so sick of doing everything myself I could just scream. In my head, I am all ready screaming. So along with supporting myself, going to work, going to school, keeping up a house and a vehicle, now I have to go find a man. PULEASE! Why can't he just come in a nice little package on my door step?

The End

Why I hate flying!

Once upon a time, I went to Asheville, NC. It just so happens I had to fly to Charlotte because driving would have taken a lifetime. I am not a world traveler, nor do I have a kick ass job that requires me to travel to awesome and exotic places. HOWEVER, I always have to sit next to the weirdest people.

Example A. I naturally select the seat in the aisle because I have long legs and I must pop my right knee every so often. This is due to being a runner. If this doesn't happen to you then, you haven't run for 10 years. And if it does pop, you haven't run for 10 years, you are still an advanced runner. Anyways, so I find my seat and an Indian gentleman is sitting next to the window. Not a Cherokee Indian, a person from India is what I mean. Although sitting next to a dude with an awesome feather headdress would have been way more awesome. So this person from India has a red dot on his head and everything. Insert stereotype. I sit down and immediately he is on the phone speaking in another language that is not English or French, the only 2 languages I can translate. I put my bag under my seat, and then I smell the worst musty old man, rotting old spice mixed with musty mothballs of death cologne in my life. And then a headache ensues. So I sit and read my book, and he falls asleep. I bet you are thinking on me. Close. But NO! But he is snoring like a freight train. Awesome. So then the drink lady or flight attendant starts down the aisle. And so I get my standard ginger ale.

SIDEBAR. Canada Dry is SHITTY ginger ale. It has no punch or karate chop at the end. It's crap. The airline should only stock Vernor's Ginger Ale. Period.

Now, the India guy orders hot tea. I am like, OK. So then the SLURPING takes place. Slurp, slurp, slurp...PAUSE...slurp, slurp. Good grief, are you kidding me? This guy is making me nuts. I just want to judo chop him to pass out. And if this wasn't enough he is wiggling his right leg, which is making my leg wiggle, so now I am crushed up against my seat just to get away from him. EWE!

And then we land and I am free.

A few more stipulations.
1) No reclining in my lap. I hate that. I hate that it is even available. I have no room as it is.
2) No crying children. Yes, I get that their ears are popping. Give them some cheerios.
3) No people reading the newspaper in my lap

The End.

teeth, a headache, and old flame...

So last night I went out for a few drinks with my friends, the HR kid, Hollywood and the Sexy mom. I mean it was loud, and we were all talking loud and laughing with our heads thrown back. It was nuts. We had a few drinks and then the shots began. I love shots, they are fun, you do them fast, you feel a little dizzy and they always under no circumstances seem like a good idea. It's shows that you are having a good time. The HR kid, didn't have any, and she left early, but no worries, we kept on laughing. So then tragedy struck, and this older gentleman came over to us right as we were all commenting about how we had boobs and were female. Naturally just as I point mine out he comes up and says he would like to rest his head there. I mean does this work for guys? I guess it might if you have more than 2 teeth! REALLY! 2 teeth. This is America, where orthodontists run wild and are on every corner. There are fake teeth you know. You can get them installed like spark-plugs. Dang! And I got to thinking, am I in the boondocks or what? So we were nice and he left. Then he comes back again, and asks if we are single. I immediately point out that Sexy mom is married and it doesn't hurt that she has a ginourmous ring, I blurt out that I am engaged and moved my ruby red , non engagement ring to my left hand. So 2 teeth asks Hollywood if she wants his number. I was like WHAT? This guy is an original. Scary. And in all her poise, Hollywood says, "no thank you" How classic is that? She could have told him to piss off. It was a great moment.

So I get home, drink some kool-aid, throw down some advil, throw on an old flannel shirt and head to bed. So around 11am, when I roll out of bed, my mom had texted me. And my dad had run into an old flame of mine. He was actually my first true love and he always hold a dear spot in my heart. I can reflect on that time in my life and smile. He was wonderful and I know I don't really see him or hear from him, I know if we met up, it would be a nice thing. So my mom tells me he has started running. Ironic. I have been a runner for 13 years, running many races and feeling good about it. Apparently, the bug is catching on. I like that he is running. I like when anyone new I know gets into it. Running is like the best thing for stress, and I met some of my dearest friends in the running group. It came at a perfect time in my life. Although I am not running as often, I still love it. I just have school sucking my will to live and I don't have the time for the training schedule. That is a training schedule for a half or full marathon.

Ok so I got sidetracked. This old flame of mine was great, we dated about 4 years and then parted ways. But I have stuff that reminds me of him, and I didn't burn it or throw it away when we broke up. I kept it. So that flannel shirt I was sleeping so comfortably in was his. It's faded and pink, but it's still a man's shirt. It's worn to the perfect amount of softness, and I love to wear it in the winter. It's too big and I just walk around in it with slippers but I always think fondly of him. Just when I wasn't thinking about him, my folks run into him. As my Miss happy go lucky says, it's the universe bringing me some happiness today...

Mail that is not a bill

Oh joyous day, is the day when you get mail that is NOT a bill. So I strolled down to the mailbox just yesterday and it had been a while. My box was stuff with all kinds of stuff, tax W2, grocery fliers, and the secret package. So I had an envelop from my dear friend Miss Happy Go Lucky. But to my surprise I opened it and it was the most awesome gift. The Shit List. It's a pad where can write down the offender, violation and plan of attack. And it has these genius plans of attack, confront, ignore, stew (which is my favorite), avenge, talk shit, and a blank. I mean I have to get started. It even as a severity rating. It's genius. I am so happy. I needed this. Because as you know, I am trying to confront my anger more constructively. Always a challenge for one who doesn't like to rock the boat. But this year I am rocking it!

Make-up, the kiss of death

So I had this blog idea earlier this week, but I actually had work to do, so here we go...

About a week ago, I fell deathly ill. I went to work on Friday and I had a miserable sore throat, and I initially thought it was from running the heat. But to my misfortune, it was not the heat. By the way, someone, and I am not naming names, infected me at work. Trust me, I know it was her. Now, back to my ailments. So Saturday, I woke up and thought I was going to have my throat surgically removed, but I went to the doctor, and he gave me a strep test, told me I was negative but insisted it was strep, so gagging culture #2 took place, and it was sent to the lab. He sent me on my way with no antibiotics, because he is a genius. Now, I stay in the house ALL weekend, which is what I love to do on my weekends. THEN, I start to see a glimmer of hope on Sunday and had decided I was all better. So I head out to the movies, how can that hurt right? More sitting... So then I get home, and realize, I am still sick, who would know? So I wake up on Monday and I am certainly dying and call into work sick. My head was about to explode, throat was still not cooperating, and I was rather thirsty. So I watch 37 hours of tv in a row. Then I wake up on Tuesday and decide I don't want to burn a sick day, but I still feel bad. So I did what is most dreaded in life to all the world surrounding me. Yes, I didn't put my face on...(insert horror music now) And you would think that people thought I came off an alien planet. They were like whoa, are you sick? What happened? I was pissed to say the least. Look, I realize I am blonde, and I have blonde eye lashes and blonde eyebrows, and rosy cheeks, but guess what people, I mosturize and I don't have wrinkles yet...knock on wood. And I don't think the world is going to end if I miss a day of freaking mascara. It ticks me off. If it weren't for all this make up we have to wear everyday, then we could get ready that much faster. Guess what, men don't wear make up and it's perfectly fine, but good lord, you feel a little under the weather, you skip the mascara so you can rub your eyes, and people could donate to your death fund. I mean really? UGH. Ok that concludes my blog about make up. See you later with my face on...

Tupac said it best, "today was a good day"

So yesterday, I was driving home, and I hit a raccoon. I have never hit an animal, but I certainly heard the thud. Don't be alarmed, I didn't swerve. (recall the important lesson I learned in Michigan this year, "Don't VEER for DEER!!") I realize this is a random fact, but before this mistaken murder, I was thinking...

I am happy this year. Truly happy. My friend Miss Happy Go Lucky, would tell me, "the universe is on your side." I am happy with all the things in my life. (well with the exception of my balance on my credit card), but overall, I can't complain. My nails are super long, not chipped and painted red. This is rare because of boxing, hockey and house cleaning. See the photo, and then sigh. I made it through my company Christmas party (with a date, I might add) without numchucking anyone. The real challenge is today, when the comments roll in. Don't worry, I don't have to ask for them, people just offer that info for free. However, it wasn't a bunch of negagtive Nancys which I have come to expect. I succesfully pulled off the GREATEST surprise party EVER for my mom, with a little help from my friends. Go ahead, sing the Beatles song, I know you want to. My mom is amazed that I can keep such a good secret. I have gotten quite good in the last few years. I am like a sponge of info. Plus as a bonus, my cousins Robert and Amber came, and it was just nice to be reminded how much fun they are. They tell the best stories, laugh with the most volume, and generally make feel glad that we are family.

I am also dating someone who is nice. The gang has nickednamed him Diego. Which is fine with me. He is nice, and thoughful and considerate. He has a personality and a life and he brings some laughter into my day. I am thankful he is around.

Tonight I am cooking for the neighbors, so I am happy to be spending time with the people I like the best. Although, Hollywood, has started the meal at home. Hey she is a teacher, she has lots of fun vacation. When she isn't being an actress, my side kick, master direction giver, friend, advice giver and what not, she is helping me cook a mean vat of taco soup! Nice.

Although I am dragging today from being up late, I managed to find time to write a blog.

Diana Out

The day before vacation...

So it's the day before vacation, and I am so excited. Why because Employee Appreciation Week beat me down last week, and I am still wheeling from it. Clearly by Friday, I just had to try out the slide in the bounce house to ensure that it was fun for the children. But seriously, that week is hellicious! The planning alone is a beat down. However, this year, I had a new little helper, the kid aka Chicago. She is our new HR rep, and she is 12. Don't worry, I all ready told her she was 12. She reminds me of me when I first started working my first job after college. So full of life and good ideas and energy. The cynicism hasn't even touched her. It's great. Not to mention, she is a yankee, and that makes her my people. I am happy she is here, and I am happy that she helped with this Employee week, because without her, it could have been much, much worse. Like say, LAST YEAR!

So tomorrow I am heading off to Traverse City which is very awesome because it reminds me of my childhood. My family and I used to always vacation there, and I remember this awesome little magic shop. I hope it's still there. This time, I am taking my BFF Hollywood with me. She is very excited too and has focused on bringing a parka. I think it's funny. But it won't be too funny when the temp drops to 38 at night. Well it won't be funny for her if she forgets that parka.

So today, although it is Tuesday, it is really my Friday. So I better get to cracking. I have a paper to write for school.