Old Bay & Fertilizer

As I lay in bed this morning, I turned on NBC to listen for news of the impending snow and I heard a commercial that I will now paraphrase.

Please stop putting fertilizer in the Bay as it is killing the crabs and the crabs shouldn't die...yet. Not until the end of summer and then they should be smothered in butter. So please stop putting fertilizer in the Bay.

I love this bare bones approach to environmentalism. Don't save the crabs because they deserve a better life, save them so we can eat them later!

0" Snow Cripples Capital City

Again, we are under a deluge of...nothing. As of 8:30 AM there was no snow but all the schools in the region, including the District's (notorious for never closing) were closed. At 9:00 AM, I saw some flurries but, other than that, our big blizzard is a bust.

Stressedy Stress Stress

My doctor, who told me on Monday that I was having anxiety attacks, prescribed me Xanax and told me to take steps to reduce the stress in my life, just called to follow up on the blood work I had on Tuesday. After telling me it was all fine and I was, in fact, just stressed, she proceeded to ask me if that was my voice on our message and to ask me why I didn't tell people right away that our extensions have changed (which I do) . She went on and on about, almost to the point of berating me, and IT REALLY STRESSED ME OUT!

Is Nothing Sacred?

Bugs Bunny 7.0 has arrived. I felt a pain in my heart when I read this. Can you imagine this creature saying "What's up, Doc?" Rabbits are scary enough without looking like Grady Stiles.

Marry Your Baby Daddy Day

Social conscience or good publicity?

Life Is Shit

I went to the doctor and she says that the seven heart attacks I had in the last three days were really panic attacks. I'm not sure how anxiety is getting past my tag-team duo of Lithium and Paxil but apparently there is a chink in the defenses. She rewarded me with Xanax and I am to take some the next time I go into cardiac arrest. Just now, I was walking to CVS to buy a tiny notebook so I could record my BP and other symptoms as they crop up (because nothing heals like office supplies) and a bird shit on my arm so I guess my luck is looking up.

Fo' Shizzle

E Gizoogled.

Happy Presidents Day

At Georgetown Visitation Preparatory School, there was a bulletin board where anyone who was anyone got notes from their bestest friends. Everyone checked it as they walked by, even if they had never gotten even a message from the office. On Valentines Day, the board was overflowing, which is especially interesting as it is an all girls school, and there it was, a pink construction paper heart with my name on it. I took it off the board and unfolded it to find the best Valentine message I have ever received:

Happy President's Day
- Healy*
* It actually said Jenny but she has brainwashed me into called her Healy.

Happy President's Day to all. I hope, unlike me, that you have the day off.

Another Metro Shocker

The metro really has changed. When I took the train home on Thursday, I was a little surprised to see this ad as I left L'Enfant Plaza.

I muttered something to myself about old-fashioned conservatives and went on my way. I had completely forgotten the ad until I got the Capitol South last night and was greeted with this display:

I stopped dead in my tracks and stared, mouth wide open, as hill staffers streamed around me. After my blood started flowing again, it started boiling. Of course married people make more money, the IRS gives them a discount. I would make more money if I didn't have to give more of my paycheck to Uncle Sam. They also have the same financial benefits as any roommates do; it's always cheaper to buy for two. And because they have more money, they can afford to send their kids to private schools and to pay for tutors so naturally their children do better than those of a struggling single mom who has to send her children to public school. Instead of encouraging that woman to find a man, why don't they spend some of their advertising money on after-school programs so that her child has the same advantages as Mr & Mrs Wait Until Marriage's does.

"They", by the way, are Campaign For Our Children, a MD based organization dedicated to reducing the teen birth rate. What I can't figure out is: which side of the fence is CFOC on? They push abstinence as the number one form of birth control but also provide good information on all other forms of birth control and sites Planned Parenthood as the source. They keep a running tally of teen pregnancies vs. teen births, seemingly encouraging abortion. But their "Marriage Works" campaign smacks of the right wing, anti-gay, pro-"family values" conservatism that has infected our government. I just can't figure this out. Any thoughts?

Side note: only 50% of marriages actually "work" - shouldn't they have a disclaimer at the bottom of their posters?

I See London?

For the past few months, I have been getting a ride to and from work with BI'75 who now works just up the street at 14th & P. The money has been piling up on my SmarTrip; I'm thinking of canceling Smart Benefits and putting that $40/month towards my new music download habit. Today, BI'75 had to leave for work at 8:30 and, as I am usually not even out of bed at that time, I decided to take the Metro and was surprised to see that WMATA has changed the in-station digital displays. The displays used to read:

Orange Line to Vienna
Arriving in 23 Minutes

Now, the displays read:

Line

Dest

Min

Orn

Vien

23

Blu

VanDrn

54

Orn

Vien

97

Just like the Tube. Copycats. What's next - "Mind the gap"?

Oh, Zen Micro, We're Together At Last

Zen Micro must have gotten my love note because Amazon sent me one today! I am happily loading it up with all my CDs. I will be submitting the paperwork to legally change my name to E Micro tomorrow.

Happy VD

I'm not a big fan of Valentine's Day. It actually makes me want to puke. All that forced lovey-doviness...blech. But I did have a great V Day once. When I was nine, all I wanted in the world (besides Seventh & The Ragged Tiger on vinyl) was to get my ears pierced. I wanted it so bad that I could taste it. I begged my dad every day and was shot down every day. I finally gave up and resigned myself to a life of naked ear lobes. On Valentine's Day 1985, my dad presented me with a tiny red satin box and, when I opened it, I was very surprised to find two teeny gold studs. Not only was a surprised, I was a little pissed! In fact, I thought this was the meanest present ever!

"Dad," I shouted, "I can't wear these. You won't let me pierce my ears!"

And that is when he told me that I could get my ears pierced, as long as I wore these teeny, elegant gold studs. He has regretted it ever since. I double, triple, quadruple pierced my ears. I pierced my nose. My belly button. I wore safety pins in my ears. He was a broken man. Poor Daddy.

AC-W IV

I just set up this file holder with a folder for each person we send things to in our other office. I sent out an email asking everyone to put items for each person in the appropriate folder. As I clicked send, I just knew AC-W would have something to say about it and was surprised when she did not reply (all of course because she always replies all). Just now she walked over to the shelf where it is and started inspecting it. This is the conversation that followed:

"These folders will fall."
"No, they won't."
"Yes, they will. It's open."
"That is a file holder. It was specifically designed to hold files.
That is all it is for."
"Well, it's open all sides. It's supposed to be boxed in"
"No, it's not."
"The files will fall."
"They won't fall. That is what it is for. That is a file holder. If
you go to Staples.com and look up file holders, you will see a picture
of that item."
"Well, we'll see."
"We won't have to see because that is a file holder and we have been
using it to hold files for three years and that is all it does."
"Wellllll, we'll see."

And she walked off.

Stick A Fork In Me...

...I am done. If I was a steak, I would send me back for being overcooked and not leave a tip when I paid the bill. If I was chicken, I wouldn't be my mother's because she never cooks it long enough. Can I go home now?

My Son-In-Law, The Doctor

I think my mom wants me to marry my dermatologist. Today he outlined the thing on my leg so I could tell if it grows or shrinks. When I showed Mom, she said "That looks like a heart!" Teasingly, I replied "Well, he is young and Jewish." I have never seen her get so excited; she actually began giggling. Now I'm afraid she will begin checking me regularly for strange moles and freckles and saying things like "I'm your mother and I know that wasn't there before. I think you better go see Dr. P."

Allergic to Cheap

A woman came to our office today to meet with my boss and she was wearing an entire can of Designer Imposters. About 5 minutes after she walked in the door I started feeling a little queasy. Since I am on antibiotics, I assumed it was a side effect and carried on. About 15 minutes went by and I felt worse so I went over to CVS where the pharmacist told me that I shouldn't take Pepto Bismol for the nausea because it wouldn't work well with the antibiotics. I bought some saltines and ginger ale and went back to the office. After munching a few crackers and sipping the ginger ale, I still wasn't any better so I turned off the lights, closed the door and laid down on the floor for 20 minutes. Still not better. At this point I had an inkling that it might be the "perfume." I heard the woman leave and decided to get up and get back to work. Within 15 minutes of her departure, I was cured.

Beer O'Clock

It's bad when you can get more work done at home at night with the TV on than you can all day at the office. I would very much like to drink a cold, frosty beer while doing this work but am on anti-biotics. The Rx bottle doesn't say NO ALCOHOL but it also doesn't say DRINK LOTS OF BEER WITH THIS MEDICATION. You would think that the doctor could tell by looking at me that this would need to be specified. Should I risk it?

Antibioticky

Sometimes it seems that the side effects of antibiotics are worse than the benefits. I took 500 mg of Dicloxacillin 52 minutes ago and now I feel distinctly queasy, my mouth is cottony and I'm a little dizzy.

Throwin' It Down 80's Style

Two things of note from last night's The Legwarmers' show.

1. There was a young man of about 23-24 dressed in dead-on 80's fashion. Yellow sweatshirt, vans, red bandanna and a killer robot. Unfortunately, it was the only move he knew and he did it to every song. He did it to "Call Me." He did it to "The Summer of '69." I kept my back to him during "Pour Some Sugar On Me" because if I had caught him roboting away to Def Leppard, I would have had to kick his ass.

2. The gang unit was there. Were they looking for MS13 members getting their wang chung on?

R.I.P Sony Trinitron Color Television

This week, our TV died. The picture and sound is interrupted by bursts of static every ten seconds. Our parents bought this TV in 1989. It was our first TV with a remote control. It was the TV on which my friends and I watched Nightmare on Elm Street at slumber parties. It was the TV that was tuned to MTV the first time I made out with a boy on the brown couch (I will write an ode to the brown couch another day) while my parents were upstairs. It was the TV on which we illegally got HBO on channel zero for almost ten years. It was a good TV.

But our new TV is fuckin' kick ass. 24" flat screen with awesome sound.
I will call it Poopsie.

Zen Micro, I Think I Love You

Dear Zen Micro, I can't stop thinking about you. I know I don't need you in my life but I want you in my life. Love is crazy like that. Others have told me to stay away from you but I don't know if I'm strong enough. Until we meet again... XOXOXOX, E

AC-W III

This is a true story. The names have been changed to protect the freak.

It's 9:45 AM and E has just arrived at work. She puts her bag down, hangs up her coat and grabs her water cup to refill it. As she stands at the water cooler, she looks over her shoulder into AC-W's office and says,

"Good Morning."

"Good Morning," AC-W replies, "How was your day yesterday?" AC-W asks,
referring to the fact that E took the day off on Wednesday to hang out with a
friend who was in town. E wonders why AC-W has to know everything why people in general have to ask how your day was. Why do they care? It's not their day.

"Nice," E responds and returns her attention to pouring the water.

"Aren't you going to ask me how my court date went?" AC-W sounds shocked
and hurt. AC-W is involved in a small claims case which she worries about a
little too much.

"I'm sorry, I forgot. How was it?" E asks politely instead of screaming, Jesus Christ, woman! I just walked in the freaking door! I'm sorry I didn't ask you immediately about your life after you made such a point of asking me about mine, you need freak.

Every day. This is how it is every day.

Love In The Swamp

This girl obviously just moved to DC if she thinks there are any decent men here. The only kind we have are assholes like this. Apparently his main problem with women in DC are that we are fat and ugly. The rest, being stupid, spoiled gold-diggers who already have boyfriends, is just gravy.

Spuds = Comedy

Elliot in the Morning has a new commercial:

Two office workers in the early 30's put a potato in their smug co-worker's tailpipe. They hide in the bushes, giggling and waiting. Smug Co-worker comes out and starts the car and it blows up.

People are emailing and calling DC101 to complain about this commercial, asking how "in times like these" they could show a commercial showing such violence and that people who put potatoes in tailpipes are the kind that bring shotguns to school. I just sent Elliot this email:

From: E
To: elliot@elliotinthemorning.com
Date: Tue, 1 Feb 2005 09:35
Subject: Tailpipe Potato = True Comedy

When I was younger, one of my dad's favorite stories to tell me was "The Time Your Uncle Jeff Put a Potato in the Teacher's Tailpipe." In 1939, my Uncle Jeff put a potato in the tail pipe of his 6th grade teacher's 1937 Pontiac. My uncle, my dad and other accomplices all hid and watched as she tried to start her car. She turned the ignition and the car went "RRRRRRRRRRRR", she tried again and the car went "BBBBBBBB---RRRRRRRRRRRRR" and then she went for a third time and the potato shot out of the tailpipe and off she went never the wiser.

The car did not blow up nor did my father or uncle ever take a shotgun to school. My sister and I, who heard this story many times, also never took a shotgun to school and anyone suggesting a connection is a jackass. I told my father about your commercial and he laughed his ass off.