That Look

I'm talking with my lead at The Office on a slow morning. We cover car radios, Crutchfield versus Car Toys, car theft, the merits of various GPS units, the new cell phone toy offerings at Sprint and T-Mobile, and the merits of various plans. Imagine the sound of this conversation like a train: chugga-chugga-chugga-chugga. Nice and even.

I mention that I bought a used Blackberry Storm and he wants to see it, so I pull it out. He asks how it is. "I don't know yet," I said. "I haven't gotten to the store to switch my account over. It's used and I don't know how to clear out the previous account."

"Can't they do it at the store?" he says.

"They CAN," I said. "I just...feel bad."

And the train slams on the brakes: SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH.

"Um. WHY?"

"I bought it on eBay," I said. "It feels shady."

"It's NOT shady," he says. "You could have bought a used phone at Car Toys. That would be an identical situation."

"I know," I said. "But what if something's wrong with it? I've never bought a used phone on eBay before."

"Better to find that out now before you sell your OTHER phone," he pointed out.

"Yes," I said. "But...I'm scared."

He gave me That Look. I get That Look a lot. That look that says, "I assumed you were a rational human being because you have legs and arms and look much like me, although you have long hair and boobs, and I work with you every day and I KNOW you're pretty rational and can do math and stuff, and all of sudden I discover this huge pit of complete irrationality and I don't understand and I don't know what to do and YOU'RE SCARING ME."

Only because he is a man, it came out like, "...Hmm."

I get it from my lead, and from my dad, and mainly from AZ. (That would be The Boy, who is from Arizona.) We'll be chugging along talking about...oh, food, or Obama, or whatever, and then I'll suddenly veer off into a long and involved story about the Blonde Squad and some extremely small disagreement that we had and who was at fault and what's been bugging me about hundreds of bits of minutiae, and right before his eyes glaze over, he gets That Look.

It's the look that says, "Oh, yeah. You're a woman. This irrational-at-great-length feature comes with the standard equipment. Dammit."

Adventures in Extremism

A few weeks ago I did something I've never done before: I woke up at 3:15 am. On purpose.

I've been UP at 3:15 am many, many times. It's not an exaggeration to say I do it at least once a month, sometimes once a week. (Hey, is it MY fault that all the fun stuff happens at night?)

But all my friends--and AZ--were running this marathon, you see, and the thing about marathons is they never schedule them in the evening. I was not running, but I did want to cheer on my friends, and because I like to be involved, it occurred to me that I could volunteer.

Yes. Well. Before I knew it I was signed up for a starting line volunteering shift, which seemed cool because I got a parking pass, and then I read the fine print.

"Arrive at 4 am."

Me: "Wait, there's TWO 4 o'clocks?"

The really odd thing about getting up at 3:15 was that it threw off the whole rest of my day. I came back at 8:30 am, slept for two hours, woke up AGAIN, and dragged my extremely disoriented ass down to the finish line to meet up with the people who actually ran the race, and then we went out to breakfast, and then AZ and I came home and slept AGAIN, waking up just in time to catch Transformers. Or at least one of us did. (Long story, the moral of which is: Avoid the the IMAX at the Seattle Center. Go to Redmond.)

By the end of the day I was so confused I felt like I had lived three lives and moved to Jupiter to raise unicorns. And then I added alcohol. Woo!

Charmed

At the M's game tonight, I am walking across the beer garden carrying a cardboard tray of food in one hand and a bud light in the other, and a man about my age on the prowl asks,

"Hey, can I have a bite of that?"

I shake my head and am about to smile politely when my steps carry me past him and he notices my rear end.

"DAMN! HOT DAMN! YOW! BACK THAT UP!"

His friends join in.

"DAMN, GIRL! WOOOOO-HOOOOO!"

(Actual BARKING.)

(More barking.)

(I begin to think maybe a litter of seals has somehow flopped into Safeco Field.)

Finally, thankfully, I am out of their range and they forget about my ass. The two guys I am with aren't sure whether to be amused or to jump to protect my honor. I assure them that, probably, those guys just liked my...shoes. REALLY liked my shoes.

Funniest YouTube Video In the World

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