Relaxation Tapes

We had an absolutely gorgeous weekend over here. I helped a friend move and we were able to do all the up and down the stairs of her old apartment before 10:00 AM when it was still cool out. So nice. Of course, I really couldn't move the next day and I'm struggling to stay conscious today, but that is to be expected.

I received a new catalog in the mail the other day and I noticed that it had a section of "relaxation tapes", which reminded me of a phase my college roommate and I went through in school.

One weekend, probably around midterms, we decided to give those relaxation tapes a try. She bought "The Rainforest" while I bought "Thunderstorm." Being college students we were notoriously cheap, and if there is one thing I learned from the experience, you cannot go cheap on a relaxation tape.

We decided to listen to "Thunderstorm" together as we were studying in the living room.

(A gentle rain falls.)

Me: This is nice.

Her: I love storms.

(A crack of thunder.)

Me: See? Nice and relaxing.

Her: I hope I don't fall asleep. I have to study for this Psychology exam for tomorrow.

(Another crack of thunder.)

Me: Whoa. That was ... a little loud.

Her: You think?

(The wind picks up.)

Her: What is that?

Me: Why are there howler monkeys in the thunderstorm?

(More thunder and wind.)

Me: Good grief.

Her: Should I be calling Auntie Em?

Me: I thought this was supposed to be relaxing.

(The howling wind is now deafening. There are a series of loud crashes coming from the tape.)

Her: Let me see that tape case.

Me: Why?

Her: This is no thunderstorm. This is a freakin' tornado!

(A siren begins to wail.)

Her: We are going to die!

Me: Head for the basement!

Her: Tell my mom I love her!

(Tires squeal. Metal crunches.)

Me: What was that?

Her: I think a storm chaser just bit the dust. The idiot.

(More wind, and ominous thumping.)

Me: I think it just ate Kansas.

Her: Auntie Em! Auntie Em! Save yourself!

(Other roommate walks in.)

Other roomie: What is going on in here?

Me: Get down! You've got to get to the safe place! The tornado is going to eat us alive!

Other roomie: What are you talking about? The sun is shining!

Me: That's what it wants you to think! It's coming to get us!

Other roomie: For the love of pete ... what is that racket? Turn down the stereo!

Stereo? Oops.

The next day I asked her how her rainforest tape was. She said she wanted to shoot the damn birds after about three minutes and to not even get her started on the "Oo ee ah Ah AH!" thing every fifteen seconds.


So remember, kids: Don't go cheap on the relaxation tapes.

You know when you want to laugh and really shouldn't ...

Ok, this is going to be a very low-brow, crass humor post. Maybe. Unless I find a way to BS my way around it.

(Yes, I am punchy again today. I think the sugar from the five chocolate chip cookies I ate finally kicked in.)

Ok, I just wrote a typo on one of those instant message thingamabobs and I can't stop laughing about it. It sounded painful. It sounded like an inner combustion problem. It sounded like a really gross case for House.

Actually the latter might not be so bad, as long as Wilson can tag along.

Back to the typo. It's like you know you shouldn't laugh when someone toots, but the expression on the lady's face beside him is priceless. And the more you try not to laugh, the funnier it gets.

I know. Sometimes you have to be there. Even worse, I was by myself on the instant message thingie when it happened. Kinda like the tree falling in the forest question.

Is it still funny if no one hears the joke? I'll let you know as soon as I'm no longer in danger of snorting myself inside out.

'Scuse me while I kiss this guy...

That was the name of this daily calendar I had a few years ago. It was 365 misquoted song lyrics. That one was a misquote for Jimi Hendrix's "Scuse me While I Kiss the Sky." Some were absolutely hysterical. Others, well, it made you wonder what the person was smokin' to think the words were even close to that.

I come from a family that makes it a tradition to make up the words as we go along. Here are some classics:

"Give me the Beach Boys to soothe my soul..." (Drift Away. I can't remember the original artist, but it was remade by Uncle Kracker a few years ago.)

"Islands in the Street, that is what we are ..." (Islands in the Stream, by Dolly Parton and Kenny Rogers)

"There's a bathroom on the right..." (Bad Moon Rising, by Creedence Clearwater Revival)

"Bobby used to work like a doc..." (Living on a Prayer, by Bon Jovi)

Obviously, I am not alone in my cluelessness. There is a commercial on TV right now for one of those cell phones with an MP3 player on it where two guys debate if the lyrics are "Lock the cashbox" or "Stop the catbox" for "Rock the Kazbah" (sp?).

Personally, I love misquotes. I know someone who constantly invents new movie titles, TV shows and song lyrics. Half the fun is trying to figure out what she's talking about. You know, that movie with Tom Cruise: A Few Good Marines.

I think I have a new supporting character for a contemporary novel: Misquote Woman. Bob only knows I have enough material for her.

Do you have any favorite misquotes?

Happy Computer Security Day

Swear to Bob, this was on the Homepage on the intranet at work:

- TODAY IS COMPUTER SECURITY DAY, A TIME TO REMEMBER TO PROTECT YOUR COMPUTERS,
PROGRAMS, AND DATE AT HOME AND AT WORK.

Um, date at home and at work? And how exactly is this going to protect my computer? I don't even know how you would begin to date at home, unless you took it to mean your hometown, which might not be bad. Unless you're from Romney, pop 37. But at work? Didn't I just attend a sexual harassment seminar recently?

(For those who cannot tell, INSERT SARCASM HERE. THIS IS AN ATTEMPT TO APPEAR FUNNY.)

I REALLY, REALLY want a job as the person to who puts stuff on the site. I have all sorts of useless information to share, not to mention the whole quality control thing. I'm every bit as good as whoever they have now :)

Woo-hoo! I got the second job I applied for. Now in addition to my day job of 40 hours a week, I now get to spend a few hours at the mall ... during Christmas ... should I be excited about this?

Actually, yes. Sad to say, but money is a necessary evil and we've been really short lately, so here's my input. I'll be at a small little store that I'll call Candle World. The biggest bonus will be that I will smell nice when I come home. No greasy french fries or sea food smell! That and the working wage has gone up considerably since I last worked retail. I don't start until next weekend, which kinda threw me. It sounds like I'll miss half the shopping season. We'll have to see how it goes.

Good luck, shoppers!

Oops

Um, a word of caution. Don't change the language setting on your blog without memorizing where the "Change Language" link is.

And no, the Blog Fairy will not magically transcribe your words into French, German or Chinese.

Just trust me on this.

Ok. It's safe to come out now.

Whew. Done venting. On to happier things.

Back on the He Wrote/She Wrote blog (see links), a few of the CherryBombs are posting descriptions of each other.

Considering the frightening quality of my crickets over in this neck of the woods, I believe I will be safe in posting my own description of myself, especially since I'm still fairly new over there. Nobody's met me in person (that I know of) and just a few brave souls have ventured over here.

I'm just anonymous enough to be dangerous. Tee-hee.

So here we go:

Name: btuda

Alias: bren tuda, foiler of the evil ex

Age: always a year younger than my husband

Height: increasingly shorter than my two younger sisters

Sign: National Sarcasm Society: Like we need your support (see www.whatonearthcatalog.com).

Likes: Chocolate

Dislikes: On going diarrheal stupidity

Favorite Authors: Jennifer Crusie, Bob Mayer, Jayne Ann Krentz, Murphy (of Murphy's Law)

Something no one knows about me: Since you are what you eat, I've grown three belly buttons, have a slight spongy quality and am filled with creme filling.

Favorite Curse Word: @#$%!, usually followed by &*$%@ #$%^(* @#%$&* @#&^*&%$!!!

Audience Participation and Jeff Dunham

First, a reminder to please check out the two versions of the opening scene I posted the other day. It's listed under Audience Participation. I really do appreciate feedback and thanks to those of you who already have!

I watched a comedy DVD the other day that I just had to pass along. Jeff Dunham's stand-up special has been on Comedy Central lately and I just found the DVD in my local video store. I've been a fan of his for years. It is by far one of the best comedy videos I've rented lately. Jeff's routine is broken up by the different puppets he uses: Walter, Sweet Daddy, Jose and Peanut. If you've not seen Jeff, don't be put off by the puppets. He comes off as this really nice, unassuming guy who has these truly wacked out puppets. Really, really funny stuff.

His site is: www.onastick.com

Favorite Quote (or maybe paraphrase - we're going from my memory here): Walter: (My wife) hopped on her menstrual cycle and ran my ass over.

Check him out.

Village Idiot

Hi there. Obviously, I'm the village idiot today, maybe even longer.

Apparently you have to set things up a certain way on Blogger to not only allow people to comment, but to be able to read the comments people make. I wasn't ignoring anyone, really. So thank you ZaZa and Robin S for commenting.

So now the pressure is on. Kinda like singing in your car. On the one hand, you have this thought that hey, this is awesome. Everyone should see this. But in reality, someone is probably watching me make an ass of myself. Which, really isn't a bad way to go. The making people laugh part, that is.

And now in my infinite wisdom, I decided to merge Blogger to Beta and I think I've given myself another identity. Yup, I've lost myself.
I knew I called it Blogger/Flogger/Frappr/Crappr for a reason.

Soylent Green Is People

I seem to be bringing out the big guns today, people. I'm stressed. Majorly stressed. Just name the main biggies that cause stress and I'm there.

I pulled a muscle in my shoulder and for a moment I thought, "Is that a shooting pain down my arm?" I'm the first to admit I'm in lousy physical shape: seriously overweight, diabetic, high blood pressure, prone to an occasional anxiety fit, and my foot hurts. Little wonder I think I could be on track for a heart attack in my 30s.

DH is stressed too. The bad thing is, usually I don't find out how much he's churned up inside until he's sick from it. He doesn't want to worry me. The bad thing is I do the exact same thing. No wonder we are both going gray.

I hate stress.

One of the things I due to combat it is use humor. Sometimes I crave it like a drug. I'll watch "Whose Line is it Anyway?" for hours. I've been spending a whole lot of time on the He Wrote/She Wrote Blog, looking for that *snort* that I love. I'll pull out old comic books, a light romantic comedy, my Stephanie Plum novels any thing to help get me through.

I've been typing "Ohm" a lot. Sometimes I write it tongue in cheek, but usually it is more of a tip of the hat because I really think meditation works. I was raised catholic. Prayer and meditation, no matter how you do it, can help reduce stress and put you in a more relaxed state of mind. That and I like the sound of it.

Oooohmmmm. See? I feel a little better already.

Rosebud

(from Citizen Kane)

*** Spoiler Alert. If you’ve never seen Citizen Kane and plan to, stop reading now. ***

Ok, I was at a serious disadvantage by the time I first saw Citizen Kane. My minor in college was Comparative Literature – Film Studies. There had been a song out called, “The Homecoming Queen’s Got a Gun.” Not really a funny title now, but back then it was hilarious. I can’t remember the lady’s name (Judy? Stacey?) who sang it, but my sisters and I knew nearly every word. In the song, she has this conversation at the end, typical high school post-Valley girl speak (when OHMYGOD was one word), and she says, “You know? Like when in Citizen Kane you find out that Rosebud is a ----?” For YEARS my sisters and I thought she said, “slut.” Harsh, but ok. Never thought anything different. So there I am in film class, watching the movie, thinking about the song, and in the last scene we find out that his beloved Rosebud is – get this – a SLED.

WTH?

I am pretty sure that is a direct quote from my brain as I sat there, stupefied. To have your life irrevocably changed by another person is a pretty common theme. But a sled? It took me weeks to get my head around that, which was unfortunate because I am pretty sure there was a quiz later that week.

Years later I found out both of my sisters eventually saw the movie. And we all thought the same thing: WTH?

What does this have to do with my WIP? One person having a profound affect on someone’s life. With our heroine, the hero kisses her once in celebration when they were young, setting in motion a series of events that culminates with a broken engagement and a broken nose. When they meet again years later, she thinks he has ruined her for all other men. No one’s kiss had ever affected her the way his did and by golly, she doesn’t appreciate that one bit.

Snakes. I Hate Snakes.

(Paraphrased from Indiana Jones - Raiders of the Lost Ark)

Sorry I haven’t posted in a while (yeah, the echo is deafening over here), but I’ve been kinda laid up with a migraine the past two days. The first day I tried to tough out and then went to an eye doctor appointment where they dilated my eyes. Oh, yeah. That went well, coupled with the new contacts plopped in my eyes (I haven’t worn contacts in over a year). I also picked out new glasses. Why do they do this when you cannot see squat? I have no idea what I picked out. Nothing like placing blind faith in the two complete, yet very nice strangers whose job it is to SELL ME A PAIR OF GLASSES. Egad. It is a wonder if I didn’t end up buying ones encrusted with Swarkovski (sp?) crystals.

Day two I had to call off work. I hate calling off work. I always feel like someone won’t believe I’m really sick. The place I work now is so much better than any of my past ones in that the two most excellent ladies I work with will basically hose you down with Lysol if you so much as step foot in the office if you are sick (Been there, done that, doesn’t feel so good. Kinda sticky.). It is almost to the point where they will string garlic bulbs around the office to ward off sickness.

My DH is sick as well – tummy pains. The guy just can’t catch a break this year. He’s going to the doctor again.

And finally, back to snakes. On He Wrote/She Wrote (the Jennifer Crusie/Bob Mayer blog), someone mentioned snakes. Which in turn reminded my of a story that truly reinforces my determination that there is absolutely no way in hell I will ever allow a snake as a pet under my roof.

A friend of mine I used to work with (one of the few I could share my Buffy obsession with), came in and told us that her husband’s snake (one of several) had escaped and they were having trouble finding it in the house. Days had gone by and still no snake. Then one morning she came ready to strangle him (the husband, not the snake). Apparently, overnight he had dumped a bunch of flour on the kitchen floor and left it there.

Didn’t he bake something and forget to clean up?
No.
Did he accidentally drop the bag?
No.

He wanted to look for snake tracks to see if the snake was going into the kitchen at night while they were all asleep.

FOR WHAT? A MIDNIGHT SNACK??!?!?!

Feel free to do your own heebie-jeebies dance. I know I do every time I think of it. Yikes.