New Car... Old Trick
I discovered today that the big orange road construction signs aren't as pliable as their rubber cone cousins. However, I predict that road sign as being the winner of every single limbo contest from here on out. I also predict a slightly upset husband.
- posted by Carrie @ 9:16 AM|

 
Leave it up to me...
There was a walk by sandwiching at the local sub sandwich shop today. Actually I guess they could be charged with leaving the scene of a sandwiching. I work in a better area of town, pretty much upper classes, with construction management offices scattered about. But for the most part the entire street of Sunset Rd is esconced in the good area of town. I, however, found the ghetto on it today. It encompasses a K-mart, a sub sandwich shop and pool supply store. Mind you it is only 3 shops and a parking lot, but it is still ghetto. And apparently the teenagers around here know it.
Thinking solely of my grumbling belly and what contents I wanted to fill it with, I wasn't paying attention to the glass door I was reaching toward. It swung open, smacked me in the leg as I was trampled on by 3 teenage boys laughing and running like idiots out to the running car the 4th boy was waiting in. A bit staggered I watched them tumble into the car and with tires squealing, sped from the parking lot. I shook my head, and grumbled about the rudeness of youth when I noticed the bewildered look of the employees behind the counter. There were three of them, and all had a sandwich in various stages of progress in hand and 2 more completed.
"They all just left!"
"Did they get in the car?"
"They all piled in and peeled out"
"Shit! What little pricks!"
Bread, cheeses, meats, and condiments were promptly tossed into the under shelf trash with curses resounding from the employees.
Now, I've never been involved in a dine and dash, and I'm not even sure you can call ordering 5 sandwiches then running when they were half completed a Dine and Dash. But I'm absolutely sure that teenager's today just don't have the creative impulses of my generation. Just as I am equally sure that even if I had gotten the License plate number the police wouldn't have cared. I still berated myself for a second for not being more observant.

- posted by Carrie @ 5:04 PM|

 
Note to self...
I dont care how nice a person you normally are. I dont care that you are truly sensitive to others feelings. The next time you are at the salon and a woman with drawn on eyebrows walks out and tells you she will be your Aesthetician, under NO circumstances will you allow her near your face with wax. Run! Jump off the table and demand someone with some hair removal control replace her. Never Never Never allow a woman with no home grown eyebrows wax yours.
PS... Cutting your bangs to cover the faux pas only brings attention to it.
- posted by Carrie @ 11:07 AM|

 
I spent last night in Heaven. Well, not my personal heaven, Rachel's heaven. And she wasn't even there. I was antsy last night. I have been upset with Rachel for almost the past week, I had just endured day Three of Hell at work, and I came home to the house, that I had cleaned just about everyday last week and this weekend, completely trashed. I had to get out. I was physically shaking. And singing is one of my favorite releases. After countless horribly frustrating attempts to locate Karoake information in Las Vegas online I finally connected to the proper site listing a Las Vegas Karoake Guide. There were quite a few places, but one caught my eye. Not in a horrible neighborhood, Not too far away from home, and having been there once before I knew the place wouldn't be filled with people that I would be uncomfortable around. Doesn't it suck to be wrong?
This being a night of, just get me outta here and put a drink in my hand, I changed into my favorite "Thanks for checking out my rack" T-shirt, Put the hair in pigtails, covered it with a hat and smeared a bit of make up on my otherwise bare face. I wasn't looking for attention last night. I wanted to sit at a video poker machine at a bar, sip down one small drink and belt out a tune to relieve my frustrations. I did however slip on my favorite heels, a girl has a right to feel sexy, even when evoking the "Not interested" look. Out the door I went.
Pulling into the parking lot of the place was a bit disheartening, it was mostly full and I had to pull around back. By full I mean, the 15 spots out front were all taken. I wanted to sing, gamble, drink and relax. 15 spots occupado meant at least 15 people inside this tiny bar, and probably all singing. And 15 people in line to sing greatly reduces my personal Mic time. I sighed, put my wallet and phone in my pockets, grabbed my smokes and keys and headed in expecting the normal karoake crowd of overweight, old, drunks, and a scattered couple of really good singers. I found, College grunge punk frat boy sorority girl shaggy hair baggy pants athletic-formed and beautiful. My tummy rolled. Apparently, those 15 cars in the parking lot each held about 7 people each, because to me, the bar was packed. And they were young, and vibrant, and dressed college, and all friends. And I was old, and frustrated, and un-interested, and dressed for a quick get-away. Luckily, as full as the building seemed, there were still open seats at the bar. I pulled up a stool and caught the attention of the boy behind the bar wearing the faded green t-shirt that hung loosely from his chest, and who's hair hung even looser in his eyes. I got a drink, lit a smoke and played the machine.
10 minutes into my play time, losing winning losing winning, I heard one adorable little girl sing some country music! PERFECT!! She sang country, so can I. I tend to worry over the crowd and their musical preferences, and this bunch didn't seem too shit-kickerish. But there she was, belting out a Reba song and the group getting into it. I put my song in. Not as popular as Reba, or the girl who sang it, but I did well, and survived. I did notice that it was a bit difficult getting back to my barstool, not because I was being approach, but because 15 car X 7 people in each car is not maximum capacity for these walls. And they were now flowing through the door. I am absolutely surrounded by Abercrombie models, all boys, and well rounded women. And I get hit on by the old man. And I do mean old. He sat down next to, some how changed my Poker game to Black Jack and helped me lose 5 bucks before I bolted to hide in the bathroom for a breather. Deathly afraid of his promise that "we" will win "our" money back, I latched onto a sweet girl in the ladies room and let her lead me out with the promise of faked long term friendship as an excuse for not going back to the old man. I made it two steps out of the rest room when a 7 foot head popped up from the crowd.
- posted by Carrie @ 11:57 AM|

 
Career Choices
Every day I have a list of sites that I frequent. Certain blogs of people that either entertain me or I feel a connection or want a connection with. And during my daily course of blog hopping I always check my own Blog. Part of me is looking for comments, or at least I tell myself that I am checking my comments. But I know for a fact that while I do have some wonderful people who check my site on a regular basis, I'm not exactly racking up ratings with extreme leaps and bounds. So, why would I constantly check my own site for comments on entries that are a week old? I'm here to admit something, I check my own site with the hopes that there is something new on it. That perhaps in a moment of ultimate inspiration, during REM, I hopped out of bed and sleep typed something amazing. Because lately, during my waking moments, great comments just don't seem to be flowing. I hated my old job, well... I hated the situation of my old job. But Damn did I have material to work with there. I went to Mardi Gras and came home and have felt dried up ever since. I kept telling myself I just needed to get a computer at work again. Once I got that I would have freedom to blab whenever I had the thoughts to share. I wish I could blame it on my new medication, but other than a wonderful tingle in my left leg, an odd rapid occurrence of goosebumps in my leg side and the most splendid butterflies in my chest, I have had no adverse side affects. Plus I only started this medication 2 weeks ago, and the well ran dry over a month ago. So now I just have to worry, perhaps I'm not entertaining, I just know how to take entertaining people and write about them. Hmmm.. Maybe I can get a sitcom. Something on the WB. I know how to spell a lot of big words.
- posted by Carrie @ 11:15 PM|

 
Little annoyances...
* When someone peels that clear plastic layer off the screen of some new toy I bought. Like a new phone or electronic equipment. Pulling that plastic layer off all by myself lets me feel like I truly am opening something new. And any clerk in a store who deprives me of that takes away a minute of Christmas-like glee for me.
* When someone is popping bubble wrap and won't share. Bubble wrap seems to be one of the highest forms of relaxation on this earth, providing you are the popper. When someone else is hogging the popping annoyance sets in quickly.
* When someone sits in the far right lane to go straight even though everyone else is turning.
* Long haired men jogging while wearing a red bandana, hot pink T-shirt and black spandex shorts.
- posted by Carrie @ 5:06 PM|

 
Higher state of flirting...
For those of you un-initiated I have constructed a Car Flirt Pyramid to better prepare you in the event of an actual car flirtation...

Bottom level begins with the not so cute guys who will blatantly and unabashedly check you out, while you do your best to ignore the fact that you have noticed them.

Second level up from the bottom is getting caught car dancing by any guy, and having him smile at you. Not laugh at you, just the cute smile letting you know that you have been caught.

Top level is full blown flirtation, the initial glance out of the corner of your eye to spy the cute boy who is glancing back at you; flowing into the cat and mouse game that is played when you both speed up and slow down, but always staying in the line of sight. All of these leading up to the moment when your car flirt sees you trying to get into another lane and glides in before you, then backs off and with a flourish of his hand insinuates the new age replica of opening a door for a lady, and instead opens the lane for you; where you promptly exit the freeway, but not without a smile and a wave in gratitude and acknowledgement of the flirting fun you had.

This day, I have achieved a higher state of car flirting. The top of the pyramid has been completely blown free and lights stronger than the fires in the midnight sky are spewing from the top.
Today..
I was car flirted on...
By an ENTIRE engine of beautiful Firemen.
God Bless our Heroes with Hoses!!
- posted by Carrie @ 9:19 PM|

 
Start your enginees!!!!
DSL is up at my office.. all I have to do tomorrow is pretend that I am the least bit computer savy and hook up the computers to the hub, set up my new earth link account and pretend that I am busy updating spreadsheets while actually converting all the post-it note blog ideas to actual blog activity.
WAHOO!!!! I'M CONNECTED AGAIN!!!!
- posted by Carrie @ 9:40 PM|

 
Auto Accessories...
I've seen bumper stickers.. I've seen window stickers.. Fuzzy Dice.. Fuzzy steering wheels.. But today, Today I saw the absolute best MUST have addition for any big truck with wheels as tall as I am. Switching lanes on the freeway, I pulled in behind the white monster of a truck only to but myself windshield level with a huge pair of steel balls dangling from the back end just under the trailer hitch. Why have shiny naked women on mud flapps when you can have a pair of steel balls announcing your masculinity.
- posted by Carrie @ 9:32 PM|

 
Denied!!!!
I go running errands for my boss this Friday afternoon with one requirement to my boss before I head out. The phone company is coming by sometime that afternoon to install our DSL. While he has dial-up access from his desk I am left with nothing. And my computer is so saddened by this. Everytime I boot-up it pleads with me to connect it to the superhighway for all the wonderful updates and virus scans and what-nots that are available to it. Alas, it sits, alone, unable to communicate with any others, trapped in the solitude of a missing phone jack. But Friday was to be my computer's day of freedom. I should have been blogging that afternoon before I left work. I should have been emailing all my dear friends with a new address. I should have been recieving horrible pop ups inviting me to sites for penis enlargements and medicines for my over-active bladder. But I'm not. The DSL installers came and went, promising to return on Monday or Tuesday or Wednesday... because it was too late in the day to complete all the service work required to link me to the world.. and the guy in the next office over. I am so sad. I am so annoyed. And I am still stuck without an immediate outlet for my blogging needs. However, I do have dozens of small yellow post-its covering my desk with blog ideas and comments and great ideas to run away with. I would bring them home with me to blog at night, but frankly.. after writing them on the post-it I find the idea becomes stale and dull. I am desperately hoping that next Friday will end the attack of sticky notes so I can once again, bore and annoy people other than myself.
- posted by Carrie @ 7:17 PM|