Bad Hair Day

It's been nearly two years since my rant about the eyebrow waxing from hell. Today, I had a bad hair experience that nearly beat it out.

Matt, my beloved hairdresser, disappeared from his salon a few months back. I stressed briefly, but realized that I was headed home in a couple weeks and I could get my hair done back in Michigan. There's a hairdresser back home that's done a pretty good job with my hair in the past.

Well, this week, I got to the point where my hair was getting way too long. I dug up Matt's cell phone number and left a voicemail asking where he was working now. But he didn't call back. And he didn't call back. And I was getting desperate.

A few months ago, one of the girls I work with sent me an email recommending her hairdresser. Convinced that Matt was blowing me off, I hunted down that old email, and made an appointment for this morning.

Big mistake. I didn't think she was doing a bad job when I was at the salon, but when I got home and brushed my hair out, I discovered that I had several long, thick strands of hair that were significantly longer than the rest of my hair. She missed spots. Seriously.

So, I had to break out the scissors and even out all the places she missed. I suppose I could have gone back to the salon and pitched a fit, but I don't think a pissed-off hairstylist would give me a very flattering haircut.

Later in the afternoon, I got home, checked my messages, and guess who called? Matt, my stylist. I screamed at the machine "Why didn't you call yesterday?????"

What's Your Thing?

Has there ever been a better advertising campaign for a more boring product than the Office Max "Rubber Band Man" commercials? Just hearing The Spinners brings a smile to my face, and then, when I see the guy with his crazy 'fro dispensing office supplies, I'm riveted to the television. Every time I see one of the spots, I notice something new. For example, I'd seen the first commercial (the one that takes place in the office building) probably ten times before I noticed that he's giving a first-aid kit to the guy using the always-dangerous paper cutter.

I finally saw the back-to-school version in its entirety. I think my favorite part is when he passes the kids selling "LEMENADE" and he leaves a dictionary on their lemonade stand. Later in the commercial, he passes them again and puts something else on their counter, but I haven't figured out what it is yet.

If you haven't seen the commercials, or if you're just a big fan of the ads like I am, head on over to The Rubber Band Man's homepage. You can watch several commercials and a "making-of" video there. They also have a funny mock yearbook. You can also, if you're a freak, download Rubber Band Man screen-savers and wallpaper.

One More Reason...

Why I need to get the hell out of Georgia, and get the hell out of the Television Business. 

Meet CBS 46 cameraman Edward Stephens, who allegedly took the station's girl-magnet live truck out on the town to pick up hookers. 

Another Reason...

Why I need to get the hell out of Georgia.

Meet Hogzilla. The name is pretty much self-explanatory.

Shopping Around
 
Like every good Detroiter, I'm in love with my car.  But it's time I face the ugly truth.  She's not going to be around forever.  My little car is getting old.  She has nearly 97,000 miles on her.   So I've been shopping around... not actively, but I've hit a few websites to see what's out there.

I've blogged before about my most recent fantasy car, the Pontiac Solstice.  But I'm not sure if Cory would fit in it.  6'5" guys just aren't built for a roadster. 

If money were no object, I've found my new dream car:  The Toyota Priapus.  It's cool looking, it's fast, and best of all, it's a hybrid, so it's not a nasty gas-guzzler.  However, as much as I love the environment,  $72,000 seems a bit pricey.

On a completely unrelated note, the tax-free holiday in Georgia starts in about fifteen minutes.  I have the next two days off without much to do except go to the mall.  This could be dangerous.

"Time Out" for Dick

Did anyone catch the twelve-year-old girl speaking at the DNC the other night?  I'd say she "kicked ass," but I might get in trouble for using that word... so let's just say she "kicked butt."

You can't watch her whole speech at the link above, but a brief video clip highlight proves to be mucho entertaining.

Why do I get the feeling we haven't heard the last of Ileana Wexler?

Another Of Life's Questions Answered
 
As a kid, I always felt like the title character in Judy Blume's book "Are You There, God?  It's Me, Margaret."

In addition to Margaret Simon's early-teen obsession with menstruation and all things puberty, she's also very confused about religion.  She attends services with all of her friends, trying to pick the religion that's right for her.

Much like Margaret, I didn't go to church as a kid, except on the occasions when family friends were interested in taking me.  I didn't dislike church, but I also didn't appreciate people trying to scare me into being a good person.  I was already a good kid without church.  I did, however, always feel a little tinge of jealousy when my Catholic friends got to leave school early on Wednesdays for catechism.

But I digress.  So I've floated through life, happily agnostic.  Then I spotted the "What religion best suits you" Quiz.  I took it.  It didn't tell me anything I didn't already know:

  
Take the quiz: "WHAT RELIGION BESTS SUITS YOU?"


 

 

Catfight

Apparently, I have a little competition for the affections of Mr. Cory O'Donnell.  See, Cory frequents a Chinese restaurant not far from work.  It's not my favorite place, but the food is cheap and fast, so I sometimes eat there when I'm in a hurry.  Cory, on the other hand, eats there frequently.  Pretty much any night I can't go to dinner with him because of a ballgame, that's where Cory gets carry-out (General's Chicken, if you must know).

So, tonight, I had to shoot a 7:30 game.  Not enough time to go out to eat, but enough time after the 6:00 news is over to grab a quick bite.  Cory called for carry-out, and I went to pick it up immediately after the newscast.

I walked in, and the very cute 20-something Asian girl behind the counter smiles at me.  I say "I have to pick up an order, but I don't know what name he gave."

She giggles and says "O'Donnell?"  And I answered yes.

"He not come in tonight?" she asked, a smile betraying the disappointed tone to her voice.

"Nope.  He was busy, so I got to come get dinner."

"Oh.  Well, make sure to tell him I say 'hi'"  And then, she blushed.  Swear to God.

Of course, when I got to work, I teased him incessantly about his little girlfriend at the China Inn.  If you see him, please be sure to do the same.

Dreamweaver
 
Had a peculiar dream last night... I was dating Braves second baseman Marcus Giles.  Before you get any strange ideas, it wasn't a "naughty" dream.  I was just dating him.

Marcus Giles is a cute kid (I can call him that, since he's nine years younger than me.  I'm so old.),  but the dream perplexed me.  He's not my type at all.  First of all, he's shorter than me (5'8").  Second, he has dark hair, and despite my recent fascination with Hugh Jackman, I haven't dated any dark-haired men since a string of brief and bizarre relationships about 9 years ago.  Third, and let's be brutally honest here, what's the point of just dating someone in a dream?  Aren't our dreams supposed to be wild and uninhibited?  Yeah.  I thought so. 

The funny thing is that Cory woke up at one point and told me that he had a sore throat.  When I fell back asleep a few minutes later, I dreamt that Marcus Giles had strep throat, and then I fed him chicken soup.  Talk about wild and uninhibited, huh?

Step Away From The Phone

Yep, it's that time again... time for my monthly cell phone rant.  This time, rather than ranting myself, simply read this article on cell phone etiquette.  Now heed every word in it.  I don't want to hear you yapping in the restroom stall next to me, I don't want to see you trying desperately to shut your phone off in the movie theater, and I really, really, really don't want to hear your personal conversations at work.

That's become my big pet peeve.  The average employer disapproves of it's employees making personal phone calls on company time, right?  But somehow, it's become completely acceptable for people to spend nearly their entire work shift with their mobile phone grafted to their ear.  At least five times a day at work, I think someone is talking to me, and it turns out that they're talking on a cell phone.  Then they try to make me feel like I'm the rude one for interrupting their conversation.

Seriously.  Leave your cell phone at the door.  And don't give me this "what if it's an emergency?" crap.  I've seen what constitutes an "emergency" for the average cell phone user.  If it's a true emergency, they'll be able to reach you using your work phone.  That's the way we did it for decades.  Now go back to work.

I Always Cry at Weddings

Actually, I rarely cry at weddings.  I do, however, cry when I can't go to a wedding.

Our pal Sandy-bean is getting married today in Moberly, Mo.  I've known Sandy since the first day of her freshman year in college, when she showed up for the forensics team.  I've always referred to the kids on my speech team as my "babies," and Sandy is one of several that I still keep in touch with. 

It's killing me that I couldn't get time off to go to her wedding.  She's marrying a great guy named Brian, who I met this time last year, when they visited us here in Columbus. 

Unfortunately, they're getting married during a "sweeps" period, which means I'm not allowed to take time off.  One of the worst things about working in television is that you can't take time off in February, May, July, or November.  Great, huh?  I get three weeks of vacation, but I never get to use them.  Next year, I'm going to have to miss Cory's brother's wedding.  The closest thing I'll ever have to siblings, and I can't go to the wedding.

Anyway, Sandy-bean, I know you have much better things to do today than read this blog.  But if you do read this, just know that we wish we could be there... and your card is in the mail.  Love ya, pal!

Movie Night, Part II

Wednesday night, I had an unexpected evening off from work (I had to re-schedule a story shoot for another day), so Cory and I headed back out to the dollar theater for another show.  Our choices were pretty slim, since we'd already seen a few of the flicks playing.  In fact, our only reasonable choices were Van Helsing and Hellboy.  Everything else was either playing too early, or a worse-looking movie than either of those.  Even for a dollar, we have some standards.

We chose Van Helsing.

About 20 minutes into the movie, I remembered the one review that I had read about it.  It was short and sweet... five words, to be exact:

"Van Helsing is Van Hellish."

It was pretty bad.  The first monster he killed (Mr. Hyde) looked a little too much like Shrek. And nobody wants to see Shrek get impailed.

The effects were cool, but a little too cartoony.  The acting was wayyyy over the top, especially when the vampires were on screen.  The dialogue sounded like a fourteen-year-old wrote it, which wasn't the actors' fault, but they weren't helping it along any. 

Of course, it was only a dollar, so I can't complain too much.  It gave me two hours of entertainment for a buck... and at least it wasn't as bad as "The Hulk," which was by far the worst movie I've seen in about six years.

Plus, it had Hugh Jackman in it.  Honestly, I don't know what it is I find so appealing about that man.  I've only seen him in three movies (Van Helsing, X-Men and X2), and he wasn't particularly attractive in any of them.  Maybe I have a weird Werewolf/Wolverine fetish.

Movie Night

Cory and I have been having some serious issues with Carmike Cinemas lately.  Usually, it's just the poor quality of projection, film, and sound in their theaters.  Lately, it's been the movie times that are really pissing me off.

We were thrilled a few weeks back when we found out that Carmike had decided to show Fahrenheit 9/11.  I honestly thought it would never play in Columbus because it's such a pro-Bush community (A major military base can do that to a city, though maybe this sentiment is becoming more common). 

But then, we looked at the showtimes.  The latest showing is at 8:30.  So then, we looked at the rest of the movies, and very few of them were showing any later than 9:00.  Come on, peeps.  It's summer.  The kids are out of school and want to stay out late.  For Cory and me, the problem is that our schedules don't allow us to go to a movie that starts any earlier than 9:40.   (they've since remedied this problem)

This week, we lucked out.  No, Fahrenheit 9/11 still isn't playing past 8:30... but Mean Girls started at 10.  No scathing political commentary, but it was actually pretty good... right up there with Heathers.

As for scathing political commentary... none of that today.  But I will refer you to this website, which shows you Dubya's latest social faux pas.

Golden Child
 
Why am I so obsessed with this game?  Last week, I made it to level 19, and now I can't stop!
 

Editorial Decisions
 
I studied journalism in college, and spent a little time as a stringer for a fishwrapper in suburban Detroit. 
 
I know that sometimes, headline writers really struggle to come up with a short and sweet summary of a news story.
 
Sometimes headline writers agonize over finding a clever play on words or turn of phrase to get a reader's attention.
 
And when it happens, it's a thing of beauty:
 
"Drinking and shotguns in your pants don't mix"
 
 
 
 

Breaking Hockey News
 
Since the NHL as we know it may not exist next season, you can start making your alternate plans now.  The World Hockey Association revival held it's first free-agent draft (in the hopes that the NHL won't be signing any free agents) today... and the Detroit Gladiators selected Dany Heatley as their number one pick.
 
Not a bad choice.  Never mind that just two days ago, Heatley was indicted for vehicular homocide and a variety of other charges.
 
And while you're at it, you might also want to forget about the fact that the WHA probably won't be ready to start playing in October.  You better believe I'm still sending a resume... just in case.

Mid-Term Book Report
 
Best Book: California Rush (figures, it's out of print)
Worst Book:  Hide and Seek, by far.  One of the worst I've read in my entire life.
Funniest Book: (tie) California Rush and Tricky Business
Most Predictable Book: (tie) Backpack and The DaVinci Code
Most Unique Book:  Jennifer Government
Biggest Disappointment:  Mr. Paradise.  It's still a really good book.  Elmore just hasn't been quite as sharp the last couple books.
Separated at Birth:  The obsessive-compulsive savants in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time (Christopher John Francis Boone), and The Pleasure of My Company (Daniel Pecan Cambridge).
Easiest Read: Couplehood (paperback, 203 pages, large print).
Slowest Read:  Tickled to Death.  It isn't a difficult book at all, and it's pretty short, too... Joan Hess just doesn't write in a very conversational style.
Most Educational: The Demon in the Freezer.  Also known as: "Everything you ever wanted to know about smallpox but were afraid to ask."
Character I'd probably slap if I ever met him/her: Suze Dysart from "Fast Women."  She's just kind of a whiny wuss.
Character I'd Most Like to Have a Beer With:  Sierra Lavotini from "Strip Poker."   Gotta love a sleuthing stripper.
 
I have five books on request at the library... so the list should expand in the very near future.  Too bad there are still more than 30 people in front of me for Ten Big Ones.

Halfway There!
 
Yay for me.  I've finished book number 26, which puts me halfway to my goal.  I'm only about two weeks behind schedule, which isn't great, but isn't too horrible.  I may have to read a couple of really easy books to catch up (look out, Dick and Jane, here I come).
 
In the next couple of days, I'll give you a mid-term book report on my favorites and least favorites of the first 26 (plus the three audiobooks).

Live TV
 
You've got to love it.  Specifically, you've got to love it when a reporter makes a boob of themselves during a live report.  As long as it's not me, of course.  Then it sucks.
 
The link above reminds me of a book I read a while back (Part of the 52 in 52), Big Trouble.  In it, a "killer" hurricane is headed towards Miami.  Of course, it's the lead story in every newscast, with reporters in the field doing live updates, reminding people not to leave their homes, not to wade into standing water, not to touch downed power lines, etc.  Of course, every one of those reporters either drowns or gets electrocuted while doing their reports.  In the end, the only people who get killed during the "killer" hurricane are the idiot reporters and photographers who weren't following their own advice.

Burn, Baby, Burn

Cory is in heaven right now. He's been burning CD's for his little sister, in hopes of passing on his musical tastes. She told him that she likes one of his favorite bands (Weezer) and now she's become his musical guinea pig.

She did need the help, though. She'd never heard of Guns 'n' Roses, and she didn't know any songs by Metallica.

I should probably mention that she's 12 years old, so it's perfectly acceptable that she doesn't know any G'n'R.

And here's the depressing thought that I had the other day... If I'd had a kid the year I graduated from college (which doesn't seem at all unreasonable), that kid would be the same age as Cory's sister.

I'm old.

Another Missed Opportunity

That's right. Another July Eleventh (7/11) spent in a city with no 7-Eleven stores.

Thus, no free slurpee.

Only In Alabama

Can you rent a monster truck limousine for your wedding.

Out of this Word

We're all fans of the English language here, right? I think one of the greatest things about our language is the use of euphemisms. People don't just die, they "pass away," or "move on to a better place."

Sometimes you just can't find the perfect words to euphemize something. And for those occasions, here's a handy little tool: The Euphemism Generator.

For example: The last time I had this much fun, I was "salting the sweaty flesh banana."

I think you get the picture.

All Work and No Play...

Ugh. I hate days like today.

Get in to work, start putting together my show for 6 p.m.

Braves highlights, Little League Highlights, Little League score. That'll fill a minute-forty-five, maybe two minutes max of local stuff... if i stretch it. I have to fill four minutes.

Ok. Tour de France highlights. There's another 0:30 or 0:45. Oh, and the Hawks are courting Kenyon Martin. Now we're getting somewhere. I've got three minutes easy.

The only other thing I can do is preview the Wardogs game. They're playing tonight, so I won't be able to use it again at 11 p.m., but I can fill a minute with it easily. There's my show.

Of course, I'll have to drop the Wardogs preview and the Tour de France and the Hawks stuff for the late newscast and replace those things with highlights from stuff going on tonight, but that's ok. I get all my stories written and edited around 5:50... plenty of time to be on the set by 6:22 (when the sports segment starts).

Then six o'clock rolls around. I look up at the TV in my office. Hmm. There's a WNBA game on. Hmm. There's still about two minutes left in the game.

At 6:03 my phone wrings. It's the producer. She tells me that if the game ends before 6:10, we'll have to drop the sports segment.

The game ends at 6:08. Sports is dropped.

I only have two stories that I can save and re-air at 11:00. So, I wrote and edited the Tour de France story, the Kenyon Martin story, and the Wardogs preview story for nothing. They all have to be replaced by new things for the late news.

Stupid, stupid job. I'd run away and join the circus, but clowns creep me out.

Good News!

You know that annoying Guy who pisses you off by talking on their cell phone while using the public toilet/driving/watching the movie/eating at the nice restaurant/sitting at their desk at work/taxiing down the landing strip?

Take heart... he may not be able to reproduce future generations of cell phone abusers.

Poster Child

I had some plants to transplant tonight. My plan was to wait until about 6:00, when it starts cooling off a little, and do it then... but then my mom called, and I got a little behind. Cory and I ended up going out to dinner, and when I got home it was about 8:30 pm. But the plants needed to be potted, so I marched outside and started digging in the dirt.

Fifteen minutes later, I was coated with insect bites and scratching myself like a mangy dog. I looked like some kind of West Nile Virus poster child. Now I look like a "how-to" poster for Benadryl Cream application.

And I'm still itchy.

Out of the Frying Pan...

I'm in a little respite from insane in-law wackiness. Ok, technically, I don't have any "in-laws," since I'm not married, but it's easier to say "in-laws" than it is to say "Lots of Cory's family."

Plus, I like the alliteration of "insane in-law." But I digress.

Last week, Cory's mom visited. Cory's mom's sister's boyfriend's son (got that?) was graduating from basic training at Fort Benning, and so Chris hitched a ride with them to Columbus.

I love Cory's mom. She's great. However, there are some things she does that completely befuddle me. For example, she always brings her own towels and pillows when she visits people. Does she think we don't have towels and pillows? I can understand the an extra pillow when you're going on a long road trip, so we'll forgive her for that one. But the towel? It's not like we had eight people visiting us and we'd be running low on towels.

Also, she has an obsession with her children. I guess all moms are like this, but it gets a little weird. She gets up in the morning, and watches The Weather Channel to see what the weather is supposed to be like wherever Cory and Casey are. Then she frets all day if they're supposed to get bad weather. Oh, and she really worries about Casey's dog if the weather's going to be nasty.

The thing that really killed me on this visit was her fascination with the fact that I know a priest. When I was at my reunion a couple weeks ago, Cory met an old friend of mine, who after graduation got his law degree at U of M, then went to the seminary to become a priest. He now works for the Archdiocese of Detroit as the Chancellor of the Archdiocese.

So, Cory told his mom that I'm friends with a priest, and it was like he'd told her that I was friends with a rock star. "Oh, I just think it would be so neat to know someone who was a priest."

Don't get me wrong. Bob (that's Father Robert to you) is a great guy, and I'm thrilled that he's found his calling. But it's not like he's her priest. Or even a priest in her Archdiocese. He's just a guy that I happen to know who happens to be a priest.

There are a zillion other things that I find a little peculiar about Chris, but those are a start... and now that she's back in Missouri,

...And into the Fire

"In-Law insanity" continutes as Cory's dad will be in town this coming week. For those of you who don't know, Cory's mom and dad have been divorced for about 25 years.

But here's the thing: It isn't just Cory's dad (Mike) that will be here... it's also Cory's dad's Girlfriend (Karen). To make things even weirder, Cory's 12-year-old half-sister, who he's never met, will also be here (and if you want that story, you'll have to ask Cory).

Cory won't be able to take any time off while they're here, so that's going to be a little strange, too.

Happy Independence Day (Observed)

To celebrate the 5th of July (or the day that everybody except for me gets to take off from work), a little presidential trivia quiz.

I was never very good at history, but I somehow managed to get a 7/10 on the pop quiz (better than Cory, I might add).

Fading Fast

My quest to read 52 books this year has hit a minor stumbling block. I went on vacation, and my will to read was briefly sucked away. I finally got back into a couple of books, and then Cory's mom came to visit (kind of rude to sit around and read instead of entertaining company.)

I'm only three books off the pace (and I've listened to three books on tape, so if I want to cheat, then I can always use those).

Once I reach 26, I'll offer a mid-year report.

Another New Kid On The Blog

Yep, we've sucked another new kid into the world of blogging. This time it's our pal "Broccoli" (not his real name... duh!) who's joined the party.

I suspect most of the time he'll be writing about music. For a guy who rarely gets out of Kirksville, Missouri, somehow he manages to listen to a lot of new/obscure bands.

Anywhoo, take a minute or two out of your blog-surfing schedule to visit "Sunless Suitcase."

This public service brought to you by the sportslady.

It's me!

I know, once again, I've been a real blog slacker. There are a number of reasons:

1) I spent several days when I got back from vacation working on creating a website for OU Forensics Alumni.
2) I bought "The Sims" for Playstation 2.
3) Cory's mom came to town this morning, which required much cleaning, laundry, etc.
and of course,
4) Work, work, work.

Something kind of interesting happened on the work front recently, though. Wednesday, I spent a few hours out at the Robert Trent Jones Grand National learning to golf. The station is making me do a six-part series on "learning the links." Basically, it entails me getting free golf lessons in exchange for showing my ineptitude on air. I think it's a decent trade-off.

The only thing we worked on yesterday was grip and swing... and already I've seen a huge improvement. I'm afraid that I'll forget everything be the next time I have to go out there to shoot more of the series, though.

Where did THAT come from?

Some people swear up and down that they're "in touch with their bodies."

And then there's Caroline MacKinder... perhaps the most clueless woman in the world.

There's Still Hope

Apparently, people have finally decided that "reality" television programming is crap.