cindy’s world

I have been completely unmotivated to hit the gym. I was dragged out there yesterday by the convincing words of Gym Trainee and Mr. W. Today, I ditched it again. You’d think my lack of desire to be “good” would make me less of a hypocrite, but it doesn’t.

Yesterday at the gym, Gym Trainee said off-handedly, “I guess I’ll do abs at home while I’m waiting for dinner.” So around 8:15 p.m., I text messaged my 11 year old godson, Gym Trainee’s son: is ur mom doing ab exercises? she said she was gonna do them tonite.
I received an unenthusiastic response: she said she guess so
I decided to make him my partner in crime, to get his mom to step it up. So I bribed him. make her stick 2 her word & ill bring u the 3rd evangelion dvd 2morrow. I’d gotten him hooked on the award-winning anime series just last month with the first two DVDs.
It worked. I received simply: ok
Some time later, I got a report: she’s on her third set of smiley faces. That’s a lower abdominal exercise where you lay on your back and swing your extended legs in the air in a low arc, like you’re drawing huge smilies with your toes. It sounds easy until you do ‘em right.
I instigated. thats it???
I received: she did smiley faces crunches. ya she said shes tired.
It wasn’t long before I got a voice mail from his mother. “YOUR CHILD,” she said in a mock hostile voice, “is about to be HOMELESS!” And then she laughed and hung up.

This morning she came by my courtroom for a visit. Apparently how the boy got her to do the ab work was by waving his cell phone around where she lounged on her back watching TV and threatening, “I can send a video of you doing just that — nothing.” Ah, cell phone technology. Gotta love it. I may have a crappy work ethic right now, but I’m a dedicated trainer.

Email from my coworker:
~ * ~
A man in Jacksonville calls his son in San Diego the day before Thanksgiving and says, “I hate to ruin your day, but I have to tell you that your mother and I are divorcing; forty-five years of misery is enough.”
“Pop, what are you talking about?!” the son screams.
“We can’t stand the sight of each other any longer,” the father says. “We’re sick of each other, and I’m sick of talking about this, so you call your sister in Denver and tell her.”
Frantic, the son calls his sister, who explodes on the phone. “Like heck they’re getting divorced,” she shouts, “I’ll take care of this!” She calls Jacksonville immediately, and screams at her father, “You are NOT getting divorced. Do not do a single thing until I get there. I am calling my brother back, and we will both be there tomorrow. Until then, don’t do a thing, DO YOU HEAR ME?” and hangs up.
The old man hangs up his phone and turns to his wife. “Okay,” he says, “they’re coming for Thanksgiving and paying their own way.”
~ * ~
Happy Thanksgiving!

One of my favorite bumper stickers on my Bumper Sticker application is a black square that has this text flashing through it, line after line:

“When I play ‘Rock, Paper, Scissors’, I always choose Rock.
Then, when someone claims they’ve beaten me with their Paper
I punch them in the face with my already clenched fist and say something like…
‘Oh shit, I’m sorry, I thought paper would protect you.’
…
OK, I understand that Scissors can beat Paper
and I get how Rock beats Scissors
but there’s no way that Paper can beat Rock!
Paper is supposed to magically ‘wrap around’ Rock leaving it immobile?
Then, why the hell can’t Paper do this to Scissors?
In fact. Screw Scissors!!
Why can’t Paper do this to people?
Why aren’t sheets of college-ruled notebook paper constantly suffocating students as they attempt to take notes in class?
I’ll tell you why!
It’s because Paper can’t beat anybody!
A rock would tear that shit up in about 2 seconds!”

Ah, logic after mine own heart…

Got this in an email tag from Flat Coke & Flies. Looked fun, especially based on her answers. Here are mine.

1. YOUR REAL NAME: Cindy
2. YOUR GANGSTA NAME: (first 3 letters of real name plus > izzle) Cinizzle
3. YOUR DETECTIVE NAME: (favorite color and favorite animal) Yellow Dragon. Okay, okay, Yellow Cat. But Dragon sounded cooler, and it is my zodiac sign.
4. YOUR SOAP OPERA NAME: (your middle name and street you live on/or neighborhood if a number) Sing Bristlecone. =P That’s awful. Then again, there’s some soap opera chick named “Babe.” So that’s worse. Eep! I just thought of what Jordan’s soap opera name would be! *pointing and laughing at Jordan*
5. YOUR STAR WARS NAME: (the first 3 letters of your last name, first 2 letters of your first name) I’ll skip this one to keep my last name anonymous. But it totally doesn’t sound Star Wars, as anyone who knows me in real life can tell you.
6. YOUR SUPERHERO/CRIMINAL NAME: (Your 2nd favorite color, and favorite drink). Ice Blue Red-Headed Slut. :/
7. YOUR IRAQI NAME: (2nd letter of your first name, 3rd letter of your last name, 1st letter of your last name, 2nd letter of your moms maiden name, 3rd letter of your dads name, 1st letter of a siblings first name, and last letter of your moms first name)
Inthm?s. The question mark is cuz I don’t have any siblings.
8. YOUR WITNESS PROTECTION NAME: (parents’ middle names) An Ling. Or maybe Ling An.
9. YOUR GOTH NAME: (black, and the name of one of your pets) Black Dodo.
10. YOUR HOOD NAME: (first 3 of your first name and add-iqua) Ciniqua.

I think some of these didn’t work well for me. Namely items 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and 9. Hope you had a good laugh. Now post your answers to these simple 10 questions so I can laugh at you, too!

My wedding photographer Josh and I are really good friends. We met in jujitsu almost 4 years ago, and have fought each other on the mat, wrestled, seen each other half-naked. He was at my 30th birthday shindig at Disneyland. I’ve been over to his house. Mr. W suggested today that something Josh had said to me was just to be polite, and I told him that Josh has no qualms about being absolutely blunt with me, such as telling me that I’m kinda bitchy that day. “I guess after he’s slammed you so many times on the mat there’s no need for politeness,” Mr. W laughed. There indeed is not. That’s how Josh and I could have the IM conversation we had below, which began innocently with Josh asking me what Mr. W and I were gonna do the next day.
me: there are things we need to do, like take my cat to the vet
get oil changes on both our cars
you know, usual honeymoon stuff.
I also should clean up the post-wedding mess and clean up my bills.
Josh: oh i thought banging the brains out of each other was honeymoon stuff
me: eh, I don’t really care about that anymore.
i’m too old for that teenage stuff anyhow.
Josh: ok
me: i’m gonna go buy a 10-pack of granny underwear tomorrow.
from costco.
no, Ralphs.
Josh: haha
lol
funny
me: and I’m gonna have headaches every night.
Josh: right
thats not cool
me: but it won’t be MY fault, it’ll be caused by the rollers I’ll wear in my hair, after I chop it off to look like a lesbian haircut.
Josh: mmm i don’t think you could do that
me: and then I’ll gain 50 pounds, which will likely be caused by all the baking I’ll do, which baking will cause me to always have a big rolling pin in my hand.
Josh: sure you keep thinking that
me: and since I’ll be spending all my time at home baking and with rollers on my head, I wno’t have time to work so I’ll quit my job and walk around in a bathrobe all day. with curlers in my hair, holding a rolling pin.
Josh: how about a moomoo
me: yeah, a big yellow one.
Josh: haha
me: instead of talking, i’ll yell everything.
just cuz I think it’s important enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.
Josh: you could move into a trailer park as well
me: i guess we’d have to cuz we’d be down to 1 income.
we won’t be able to afford bottled water, so I’ll drink beer all day.
Josh: right
yeah the cheap stuff like coors
me: what about O’Douls?
maybe I can drink Taiwan beer.
Josh: yeah sounds good
we’ll join you next door
us and our 25 kids
i’ll lose a few teeth too
me: sure, they can play with my 25 cats.
Josh: sounds good
[10-minute pause]
me: can I blog this conversation?
Josh: yeah sure
me: yay, thanks!
Josh:

Happy Independence Day! May you experience fireworks in your life tonight. *big salute* to the Veterans, you make us humble yet proud, and free. Something a little more lighthearted, that I was tagged by email with:

SCATTERGORIES - It’s harder than it looks! Use the 1st letter of your name to answer each of the following… they have to be real places, names, things…nothing made up! Try to use different answers if the person in front of you had the same 1st initial. You CAN’T use your name for the boy/girl name question.

What is your name…………………………CINDY
Four Letter Word…………………………..CRAP (*shrug* It was the first thing that came to mind…telling, huh?)
Vehicle………………………………………COUPE
City………………………………………….CHARLESTON
Boy Name…………………………………..CHARLES (scraping the bottom of the creativity barrel)
Girl Name……………………………………CHARLOTTA
Alcoholic Drink……………………………..CALIFORNIA (vodka, OJ, grapefruit juice)
Wear………………………………………..CHEMISE
Celebrity……………………………………CHARLIE SHEEN (haha)
Food………………………………………..CORN ON THE COB (I should get extra credit — TWO Cs!)
Something found in a bathroom………….CRA– oh, I’ve used it already. CUP
Reason for Being Late…………………….CONDOM BROKE (I’m impressed with this one myself.)
Cartoon Character………………………..CARTMAN
Something You Shout…………………….CRA– oh, I’ve used it already. CORPORATE SHANANIGANS SUCK! No? Then what about, “CAN IT, BUCKO!”? Or, “C’MERE!”
Animal………………………………………CAT!@#$
Body part…………………………………. CANS! (And I bet you guys didn’t think I could keep this one clean.)

If you read this and you have a blog and happen to be searching for a blog topic to write about, I TAG YOU!

Q: What is college roommie/bridesmaid Diana’s nickname for you?
A: Psychic Cindy.

Q: Why?
A: Cuz I get a sense of something and I’m usually right.

Q: How does that apply to your current housing situation with the #2 house?
A: I’d said that the #2 house seemed a little too good to be true, and that it didn’t feel like home. I’d also said that the bank was jerking us around, holding out for a better offer it was going to take over ours, because it LIED about how full-price offers would be immediately accepted and entered into Escrow.

Q: Does this mean you heard from your agent about the #2 house today?
A: Yes.

Q: When?
A: Today. At 6pm.

Q: Well? What’d he say?
A: He said that the bank accepted another offer that, unlike our offer of 20% down, offered 50% down. That offer came in last nite, possibly due to the publicity from the online publication featuring that house. Bastard bank shouldn’t have even been on the market to HAVE that offer, since our offer went in last Friday and was only supposed to be valid until Monday, but they stalled us and dragged us along until the article was published, only to reject us the moment something better came DELINQUENTLY; the assholes at First Franklin should suffer bad karma for that jackass move. Not that my realtor said it like that.

Q: How do you feel about this?
A: Pretty good. There’s no way we could compete with 50% down so it feels like it’s not meant to be. Too rich for our blood. It’s not like we just missed it by a hair and have to kick ourselves. Plus, the fact that this house took itself off the market made the acquisition of the #1 house feel more destined. There’s no more wondering, cuz all signs continue to point toward the #1 house.

Q: Do you think the #1 house is still available?
A: Last my agent checked, it’s still listed as active. He’s going to call them and ask if we could continue where we left off with the offer and counter offer. I’m looking forward to the full bed/bath downstairs in the #1 house, cuz it’d be perfect for our guests! Plus, I get to plant my little avocado tree in the back yard somewhere; I got a glint that the #2 house wasn’t meant to be when I saw the mature avocado tree there last Saturday. It was like, “Then where will my tree go? It’s superfluous here.” Hope those people are forgiving of our little stall!

I need to make up for the quality of my posts lately which, I admit, have been about as interesting as a strange kid coming up to you and telling you about his current 2nd grade science project, and you don’t like kids, and you flunked Science, and you don’t understand English. So here’s something kinda “wrong” that I did a couple weekends ago. (What, you thought I’d make up for bad writing with GOOD writing? Ptthh.)

Last Sunday when Mr. W and I were at my parents’ having dinner, my mom asked when our appointment for engagement photos were, and she said she wanted to come along. I don’t know why she wanted to be there, but as I’m trying to be charitable to my mother, I said optimistically that if she comes, she could decide whether she likes the way this lady does hair and makeup, and see if she wants to book a hair/makeup appointment with her on the day of our wedding. My entire bridal party is going to. But really I was imagining my mom being a total backseat driver when she’s there. “Can you make her makeup lighter? How do we make this look natural? I don’t think her hair should be that high. Can you block off her face a little bit with hair on the side so her face looks smaller? I think she’s wearing too much eye makeup. Can you do something about her skin? I tell her to eat more fruit so that she wouldn’t have all these pimples but kids these days *sigh* never listen to their parents.” And then during the photo shoot, “I think her arm looks too big like that. Can you make her look thinner? Cindy, don’t lean forward like that, you look so unspirited. I don’t think that’s a good pose. Hey, do the peace sign!”
My mom snapped me out of my daydream grimace by asking whether we need to bring anything, like changes of clothing or my bridal gown. I told her that no, the studio will have everything. And I’m not going to wear the bridal gown until the wedding. She asked, “They’ll have men’s clothes, too?”
“I’m sure they do, cuz they told me all he needs to have with him are black socks.”
“JUST black socks?” my mom said jokingly.
Mr. W joined in. “So I’ll just be naked with black socks on? That might be weird.”
And here’s the wrong part. I said thoughtfully and yet without thinking, “Hmm, that’s true. Maybe you should have three black socks.”
Mr. W laughed. One of my parents laughed, and I don’t remember which one. But because the other one didn’t laugh that much, it hit me that I’ve now directly inferred to, AND produced a mental image of, the penis attached to the man who is doing their daughter.

Wrong!!

Reading a post about anny’s amazing day that must’ve been colored with crapola crayons, I was reminded of something that happened to Mr. W in Vegas after his niece’s wedding on Saturday.

Mr. W, his daughter, and I walked to his car in the parking lot of the hotel where the niece’s reception was held to find that the Jack Skellington antenna ball that he’d had on his car for the past 2 years was gone. Mr. W noticed it first and just about lost his mind. Jack Skellington is his all-time favorite character, and for the next 5 minutes his mouth was ablaze spewing forth hexes and curses of violent car accident deaths for the Nevada delinquents who had the failed social skills and the absolute lack of respect as to steal someone’s antenna ball. He ranted about how he’d had the antenna ball a year before he put it on his car because he was afraid someone would steal it but that it had remained in place for 2 years as his car identifier but one day in Vegas and this expensive irreplaceable collectible is gone forevermore. More wishes of grisly deaths for the perpetrators.
I suppose I wasn’t very supportive when I said, “So to you the proper punishment for stealing a styrofoam antenna ball is death?”
I got an earful about how it’s a rare high-quality, plastic antenna ball and not one of those abundant cheapy styro ones.
So I decided to be more supportive. I offered my and Daughter’s services, promising “We’ll jack up the jackass who jacked your Jack!”
Daughter’s laughter ended Mr. W’s rant.