Giddy Girlie

circa 1987

I was staying the night with my cousins (Ryan, Sarah, and Amy) and Ryan, who was in high school at the time, asked me to protect the phone for him while he went to the bathroom. I was the only one who could be trusted, because his sisters were assholes and he had been waiting on hold at KROQ for something like 2 hours to get a chance to talk to Depeche Mode live on the radio.

So I was allowed access in to his room (strictly prohibited) and locked in (as a precaution against his scheming sisters) while he crossed the hall to answer nature's call.

Thus, it came to pass that it was announced "Ryan from Huntington Beach, you're live with David and Martin from Depeche Mode. What's your question?"

Mia: Uh, I am supposed to be holding the phone for Ryan. This is Mia.

David & Martin: Hi Mia.

Mia: Um... hi. Uh...

KROQ: what's your question?

Mia: Um... uh... you guys rule. Oh my gosh, Ryan is going to kill me.

KROQ: What song would you like us to play?

Mia: Um... how about Master & Servant?

Martin: How old are you?

Mia: 9

KROQ/David/Martin: ha ha ha ha ha ha

Martin: It was nice meeting you. You're very sweet.

[cue song]

Ryan totally missed the whole thing, in fact he came in midway through Master & Servant and when I told him it was my song that I picked and he was gravely disappointed. He was pissed that he missed his chance, that the call actually got through and he had to poop, but most of all that I chose Master & Servant. Not even ten and already a penchant for S&M. tsk. tsk.

Posted by giddygirlie at 11:33 AM | Permalink

Thank you, Sweetney, for introducing me to my New Best Friend.

Posted by giddygirlie at 10:59 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

So much has been happening lately that I haven't had much time to write about it. Work is busy, life is good, etc. etc. I also got my hair cut, but don't have a decent picture yet. She took off about another 8 inches, so it's REALLY short. I like it, generally.

The latest is that tomorrow morning I'll be back under the drill for MORE dental fun! Hooray for me! And also? Why does dental insurance suck so hard? With the new job I got excellent benefits, but dental still has a $2,000 per year maximum (that's how much they pay, my out-of-pocket is limitless). And of course, each procedure costs $1,000. The "basic" plan that I could have chosen at work only allows for $500 per year -- who has teeth THAT healthy? I mean, couldn't you spend $500 a year just in toothbrushes and x-rays? That seems crazy. So anyway, I am back in the chair tomorrow morning. I am seeing a new dentist who is very nice and understanding of my budget (i.e. you get what the insurance pays and not a penny more) and so he's working out a plan to defray some of my co-pay costs. But still!

Fun fact: did you know that in the past 3 months this site has gotten nearly 300 hits off searches for the word "molar"? Seems I am not the only one to have inherited poor dental genetics*. Welcome, Molar Lovers!!

Tomorrow I will have yet another root canal (for those playing along at home, this is the 4th one in 2 years - and only on 2 teeth!). It seems that YET AGAIN the dentist did not get a "hidden" root in my tooth and it is becoming painful. Right now it's at the dull-ache stage, which means I could sort of ignore it by keeping Orajel handy, but I want to get it done now before it goes into the face-full-of-agony stage. Last time, I went straight from no pain to gravity-on-my-face-is-causing-me-pain.

My mom would say that root canals are "old hat" for me, so they're not as scary as you'd think. Really they only take like 20 minutes and you're numb and rocking the MP3 player, so it's not that big of a deal. The worst part was tasting the CHLOROFORM that they use to kill the nerve. It's like if hell was a mouthwash. The dentist was slowly shaking his head and using his soft voice to tell me "oooh, I'm sorry, this looks like another root canal" and I told him the only thing that scares me is the bill. Amen.

*yes, this is a "real thing" -- not all cavities are caused by sugary soda or candies. Some people, like me, have flora & fauna that hate them and also poor roots. My dad is the same way. My mom, however, has had like 2 minor cavities in her whole life. C'est la vie.

Posted by giddygirlie at 8:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

This weekend we finally had our first "guests" in our new place. Fortunately, it was my mom and my aunt Karen, so I didn't have to apologize overmuch for the lack of dishes or the cardboard boxes strewn about. The unmade bed, the towel on the floor, the cat litter spill on the bathroom floor, or any of the other things that were 'undone' when they arrived. That's the great thing about my family - which is usually a fact attributed to friends - that they honestly don't judge you by your messy house. Instead, they shove the clean laundry pile to one end of the sofa and maybe match your socks during a movie.

I knew that it was ok, and that this house was now "home" when my brother (who is in junior high school, and therefore very meticulous about what is "cool"), walked in the door, dropped his skateboard, flipped off his shoes and stretched out on the couch with his feet up in mom's lap. I suppose the new house is comfortable after all.

Posted by giddygirlie at 9:03 AM | Permalink

I need a sign to keep at my desk or wear around my neck that says THAT WAS NOT A FART.

My intestines have created a mini-amusement park in there (I think someone got them that Rollercoaster Tycoon game for Christmas one year) and so just under the left rib is a sharp S turn and near my right hip, there is a loop-the-loop. All very exciting if you're food being made in to poo. Not so much when you're in a quiet meeting and your guts go "brrrrrrrrrrrr" and prattle like an old VW.

It seems that every time the room is silent or I am in a one-on-one meeting or my reputation is at stake, something in my system goes 'round those curves and makes the loudest sounds imaginable. Think frat boy fart contest -- THAT is how loud it is. But it's on the INSIDE and not a fart. Regardless, everyone reacts the same: pretend you didn't hear it and start breathing through your nose. *sigh*

I'd honestly rather be the Girl Who Burps Loudly In Her Cube And Thinks No One Heard It, but we already have one of those so instead I get to be the Fart Girl. Great. Fantastic. Only, it wasn't a f-- oh, what's the use?

Posted by giddygirlie at 12:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (6)

1922-2007

Kurt Vonnegut died yesterday, and that strikes me as incredibly sad. I know, he lived a long and good life, but still... he was one of the first writers that really reached through me and showed me all that I had been missing. He was a remarkable talent and a true genius, and I don't need to tell you any of this. Except that he will be missed.

"One of the few good things about modern times: If you die horribly on television, you will not have died in vain. You will have entertained us." - Kurt Vonnegut

Posted by giddygirlie at 10:42 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

What's better than a monkey? A gorilla!
What's better than a gorilla sitting? A gorilla running!
What's better than a gorilla running? Pete Beck running a 7k in a gorilla suit!!

Yes, this is actually REAL. The Great Gorilla Race will be held in San Francisco in Golden Gate Park this June, and our fantastic friend Pete Beck will be racing. In a gorilla suit. God, that's awesome. And even better? It's for charity, to save the gorillas! And who doesn't want that??

If you can make it in-person, stop by and wave and take pictures. If you can only attend in spirit, you can donate online and wait for Pete to post his pictures on Flickr.

Watch the video of last year's event

Posted by giddygirlie at 9:01 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I'm so excited to meet my nephew Max, who decided that he was finally ready to meet the family. He was a week behind schedule, so his first gift from me will be a watch. Ahem.

10 lbs 5 oz 23 inches. whoa baby.

And everyone also please think happy thoughts for Mommy Shannon who is recovering nicely.

Posted by giddygirlie at 3:21 PM | Permalink

Monday started out like this:

1:30am wake up to the sound of a gunshot
2:00am Ryan soothes me back to sleep by telling me that it's probably nothing to worry about. Just a neighbor committing suicide.
6:00am Ruckus walks on my face to get in to the window
6:05am Ruckus walks on my face to get out of the window
6:10am Ruckus walks on my face to get in to the window
6:15am Ruckus walks on my face to get out of… repeat until 7:00am
7:00am Alarm goes off, ripping me out of a realistic dream, so I am confused and disoriented
7:01am Ruckus lays down and goes to sleep
8:30am Leave for work, right on schedule
9:00am Enter office, right on schedule
9:01am Realize that my laptop is back at home
9:02am Drive home to retrieve laptop
9:03am Gas light in car comes on

So the morning part wasn't so good, but today actually turned out rather nice. The majority of my team is on the road this week, so it's quiet here and I got a lot done. So quiet in fact, that K and I set off to investigate the screee sound that we kept faintly hearing, which we believed to be a seagull trapped in the building (we're only a couple of miles from the beach, and the birds are kind of everywhere outside). Imagine our disappointment when it turned out to be somebody's bald eagle screen saver. And not even that kind of bald eagle.

Posted by giddygirlie at 3:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Last night, Ryan and I were setting up the bedframe and I left the room but heard these weird "oof" kinds of noises and came back to find him wrestling the cat. After I controlled my laughter, I begged him to do it again and he reluctantly agreed, saying that it was going to be "stiff" and "feel scripted". After I reminded him that this ISN'T FREAKING HOLLYWOOD, I cajoled him into a repeat performance.

Enjoy the stupidity.

Posted by giddygirlie at 11:27 AM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Only, you know, WAY more important.

Erin, the genius behind Out of Character (and also the only person I know who eats chupacabras for lunch) has been nominated for an award at The Best of Blogs. I didn't ask her permission to promote this, so don't tell her, k? But DO go and vote. Otherwise, the terrorists win. Simple as that.

VOTE NOW YOU COMMIE PINKO!!

Posted by giddygirlie at 11:51 AM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I hate moving - hands down, flat out HATE. But usually I hate because of the hassle, the expense, the heat, the heavy lifting, the sweat, the... well, you get the point. Now I hate moving on a whole NEW level. This was the worst moving experience of my life.

From start to finish, it was a comedy of errors. If I even try to type a list right now, I'll burst into tears all over again. Suffice it to say, never move when every single person you know is out of town. Tragedy will strike, and then you won't have anyone to help you (no, seriously. The ONE person left in southern California who was available to help had a death in the family so he could only stay an hour). And I cannot stress enough: HIRE MOVERS. I know it's a huge pain in the butt to pre-pack everything and also since it costs lotsa money but for pity's sake, man, just DO IT!

The worst part is the mental fatigue. I have slept maybe 7 hours in the past 3 days, and none of those 7 hours were in a proper bed. I have climbed the stairs probably 500 times. I have hefted and grunted and shoved and dragged... I have pushed myself physically to the brink and now it's creeping in to the psychological. I really feel this close to just breaking down all together. I am at the point where I am struggling every second just to not regret everything. Although I didn't have a choice about moving, I just really want to be home.

Posted by giddygirlie at 4:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)