Just called my grandma to wish her a happy birthday. She interrupted me saying something to ask if I knew where a Culver's was in the suburbs. I told her. Haven't seen her in a few weeks, so she asked me what I've been doing. I told her I joined a gym, and she got that really happy voice and said good, I can get rid of some of that "chub-chub." Then she near-yelled in such genius thought that I should join a bowling league! She's not old, senile, or crazy, just weird. And she has a laugh that tops them all.
The last three calls my cube-neighbor Dannette/Sharise has made have all been about Avon products. Yesterday she stood up to tell me that she put her 17-year-old on her own style of house-arrest after he lied and came home drunk off something she called E&J that I've never heard of and can't find on Google. It may be something obvious, but I don't know what she's talking about. Then she said how she bought him two new pairs of shoes, for $200. I don't understand some people. Why do they just throw their money away. She's always complaining to me and more often to the dozens of people she calls every day about money, so why doesn't she save some and not buy her grounded child expensive shoes?
Gross example of some people's idiocy with money: My dad used to work with Kirby Puckett's sister Melva and she refused to use a 401(k), opting for the cash instead! That makes no sense! She turned down free money from her company in matching funds because she would rather have the cash today than a retirement account thirty years later. Just think about that missed interest! What a waste of money. At least I got a Kirby Puckett signed baseball for Christmas one year. Someday that might be worth some good coin.
Mary, you'll be happy to know that I'm worried about the Illinois-Wisconsin game tomorrow. Jeff, I'll see what I can do about TiVoing and then taping the games for you. I've never transferred something to tape so we'll see how it goes. Should work, though, because I know it's possible.
Mmmmmmmmmm, lunchtime.
Friday, February 11, 2005
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
Fate 11
Well, I'm officially slipping. I haven't posted for six days. Lent is dawning and I pledge to spend these next 40 days attempting to stay current and consistent on this site, among other pledges of course. I don't want to appear lazy, do I? I'm considering giving that up too.
What a game tonight! A real nail-biter, an edge-of-the-seat thrilla! Ok, not so much. We played horribly, just like on Sunday. It is our saving grace that both Indiana and Michigan's star players are out right now, because frankly, we did not deserve to win. We shoot threes like we're arrogant, even when we're down, which thankfully isn't often. Michigan played poorly tonight too and for awhile we were worse. But Dee Brown kicked it up late in the second half with a few steals in rapid-fire succession and tied it up. We will remain number one, but for how long? We cannot win titles or championships from outside the line alone. Well, ok, we can technically, but we shouldn't. We're only as good as our field-goal percentage.
The woman sitting in the cube next to mine at work, Dannette (sometimes she goes by her nom de guerre Sharise) is totally crazy. She's a temp, who I just learned will be around until the end of March. Dannette is on the phone for her job, calling doctors' offices and such verifying what I'm sure is very important information. But mostly, around 90% of her time, she is on the phone conversing with some personal friends about everything and anything. She creeps me out. Both eyes veer off into different directions so I don't know where to look when she stands up over the cube wall and begins talking to me uninvited, and she has pitch black shit in between every tooth and she moves her mouth like she doesn't care. She told me an awful story one day as I was just sitting down to eat a quick lunch -- one of my few really busy days -- and just began talking as if I had asked her a question. She told me that her boyfriend's 9-year-old son was with his mom, her boyfriend and their son, driving around Milwaukee where they live and either the man was drunk, drinking, or just driving wildly, but he drove the car into a telephone pole. She said the engine went through the car and right into the 9-year-old's chest, killing him instantly. The little two-year-old brother was killed too. She said her own 10-year-old son, the 9-year-old's half-brother (which if you do the math, is completely fucked up) took this especially hard. Then she said something so odd.
It went something like this:
Dannette/Sharise: "...the engine went right through his chest. My son took it really hardisthereaburgerkingaroundhere?"
Me: Beat. Beat. Another beat because my brain was wondering whether that was really a question or the story took a weird turn. "No, just a McDonald's."
That was it. It was so strange I have to laugh about it, but then I remember the story she told, and it isn't that funny.
This is my day.
What a game tonight! A real nail-biter, an edge-of-the-seat thrilla! Ok, not so much. We played horribly, just like on Sunday. It is our saving grace that both Indiana and Michigan's star players are out right now, because frankly, we did not deserve to win. We shoot threes like we're arrogant, even when we're down, which thankfully isn't often. Michigan played poorly tonight too and for awhile we were worse. But Dee Brown kicked it up late in the second half with a few steals in rapid-fire succession and tied it up. We will remain number one, but for how long? We cannot win titles or championships from outside the line alone. Well, ok, we can technically, but we shouldn't. We're only as good as our field-goal percentage.
The woman sitting in the cube next to mine at work, Dannette (sometimes she goes by her nom de guerre Sharise) is totally crazy. She's a temp, who I just learned will be around until the end of March. Dannette is on the phone for her job, calling doctors' offices and such verifying what I'm sure is very important information. But mostly, around 90% of her time, she is on the phone conversing with some personal friends about everything and anything. She creeps me out. Both eyes veer off into different directions so I don't know where to look when she stands up over the cube wall and begins talking to me uninvited, and she has pitch black shit in between every tooth and she moves her mouth like she doesn't care. She told me an awful story one day as I was just sitting down to eat a quick lunch -- one of my few really busy days -- and just began talking as if I had asked her a question. She told me that her boyfriend's 9-year-old son was with his mom, her boyfriend and their son, driving around Milwaukee where they live and either the man was drunk, drinking, or just driving wildly, but he drove the car into a telephone pole. She said the engine went through the car and right into the 9-year-old's chest, killing him instantly. The little two-year-old brother was killed too. She said her own 10-year-old son, the 9-year-old's half-brother (which if you do the math, is completely fucked up) took this especially hard. Then she said something so odd.
It went something like this:
Dannette/Sharise: "...the engine went right through his chest. My son took it really hardisthereaburgerkingaroundhere?"
Me: Beat. Beat. Another beat because my brain was wondering whether that was really a question or the story took a weird turn. "No, just a McDonald's."
That was it. It was so strange I have to laugh about it, but then I remember the story she told, and it isn't that funny.
This is my day.
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