cindy's world

I love that my parents have stepped into the 21st Century. I also love that Gmail gives you an internet instant messaging system thru their email site. So I IMed my dad (who’s also at work) for the first time just now:

me: Hi dad!
I’m at work in trial.
You must be busy.
[dad’s screen name]: WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU?
me: nothing.
I just wanted to say hi.
[dad’s screen name]: MUST BE BORRY
[He means “boring.”]
me: yeah, a little bit.

Cool, huh? =D

After jujitsu today, a large portion of the class went to a local steakhouse pub to celebrate one of the instructors’ 32nd birthday. Let’s see, class ended at 8:45p, so we changed, cleared out… I was sitting at the restaurant past 9pm looking at a menu. This conversation…

Me: I shouldn’t be looking at food.
Vanessa (Navy Chick): You’re in a restaurant! Of course you should be looking at food!
Me: But I’ve resolved to stop eating past 6pm.
Rebecca: WHAT?! You can’t not eat, you just worked out!
Laurel: Just think of it this way. You ordered a drink. It would be irresponsible of you not to have some food with your alcohol.
Me: I know, I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have ordered that Redheaded Slut.
Vanessa: No, you HAVE to drink! We’re celebrating Ramon’s birthday!

…with alcohol, later came THIS conversation…

Vanessa: (motioning at the four of us girls at the end of the table) We should start a band.
Rebecca and Laurel: YEAH!
Laurel: We can call ourselves Attention Whore.
Me: That is a good name for our band, cuz that’d be the reason we’re starting one.

…with more alcohol, the conversation evolved to THIS…

Vanessa: Okay, so our band’s gonna be called The RubSluts.
Me: Wow, can you imagine what great costumes we’d have with a bandname like that? Are we gonna be in all rubber?
Vanessa: Yeah, with tiny short skirts to dance onstage with.
Laurel: I’ve always wanted to be a go-go dancer. (doing some go-go dancer moves with her arms)
Me: And we can wear fuck-me boots with holes in them…
Vanessa: I HAVE a pair of those, patent leather boots from Frederick’s of Hollywood! They’re the most awesome boots, and they have holes on the side! I went to a goth club wearing those and this woman asked if she can photograph my boots for a flyer.
Laurel: We should go clubbing!
Me: Yeah, let’s all go goth and go to a goth club!
Vanessa: You want to! There’s an event this Saturday. It’s S&M night. You guys’ll fit right in!
Me: Can we connect a chain from someone’s penis piercing to a collar around my throat, and then I’ll just snap my head like this (quick sideway tilt of my head) to get him to c’mere!
Laurel: (just tuning in again and thinking that I’m swishing my head/hair to the live metal band that we’d been shouting over) Yeah! Whoo! (swishing her head to the music, too)
Me: No, no, that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re talking about S&M!

Yup. When the chickas in jujitsu chat, the men stop and listen.

Since I was on the cruise last week during SuperBowl and wasn’t able to post (actually, the ship charges per minute to use the internet, and their internet’s SLOOOOOW), here’s a little post-post, or postscript.

A man had 50 yard line tickets for the Super Bowl. As he sat down, another man walked down and asked if anyone was sitting in the seat next to him.
“No,” the first man says, “The seat is empty.”
“This is incredible,” said the second man. “Who in their right mind would have a seat like this right on the 50 yard line for the Super Bowl, the biggest sporting event in the world, and not use it?”
The first man says, “Well, actually, the seat belongs to me. I was supposed to come with my wife, but she passed away. This is the first Super Bowl we haven’t been to together since we got married in 1987.”
“Oh…I’m so sorry to hear that. That’s terrible. But couldn’t you find someone else, a friend or relative, or even a neighbor to take the seat?”
The man shook his head. “Nope, they’re all at the funeral.”

Men and their priorities. I’m glad mine put his priority on me during the Superbowl and we were having the formal Captain’s Dinner in the dining room on the cruise during the Bowl. Not that the maitre’d didn’t keep announcing the scores over the loudspeaker through the dining room anyway. Heh.

Got this from my cousin Jennifer. Too funny not to post. Besides, I spent yesterday evening vacuuming up cat hairs, cleaning cat vomit up from the living room (he’d gotten into some Christmas ribbon which is of course indigestible, so he had to puke it up, along with his dinner, in 4 or 5 separate piles that I found later), cleaning the cat area, changing the cat litter, so I’m in an animal frame of mind. Happy Friday!

Excerpts From a Dog’s Daily Diary:

8:00 a.m. Oh, boy! Dog food! My favorite!
9:30 a.m. Wow! A car ride! This is a blast!
9:40 a.m. A walk in the park! Ate some crap… Delicious!
10:30 a.m. Getting rubbed and petted! I’m in love!
12:00 p.m. Lunch! Yummy!
1:00 p.m. Playing in the yard! I just love it!
3:00 p.m. Staring adoringly at my masters…they’re the best! I’ll wag my tail in joy.
4:00 p.m. Hooray! The kids are home! I’m bouncing off the walls!
5:00 p.m. Milkbones! Great!
7:00 p.m. Get to play ball! This is too good to be true!
8:00 p.m. Wow! Watching TV with my master! Heavenly!
11:00 p.m. Sleeping at the bottom of my master’s bed! Life is soooooooo great!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Excerpts From a Cat’s Daily Diary:

Day 683 of My Captivity:

My captors continue to taunt me with bizarre little dangling objects. They dine lavishly on fresh meat, while the other inmates and I are fed hash or some sort of dry nuggets. Although I make my contempt for the rations perfectly clear, I nevertheless must eat something in order to keep up my strength. The only thing that keeps me going is my dream of escape. In an attempt to disgust them, I once again vomited on the floor.

Today I decapitated a mouse and dropped its headless body at their feet. It demonstrates what I am capable of. However, they merely made condescending comments about what a ”good little hunter” I am. The audacity!!

There was some sort of assembly of their accomplices tonight. I was placed in solitary confinement for the duration of the event. However, I could hear the noise and smell the food. I overheard that my confinement was due to my power of “allergies.” I must learn what this means, and how to use it to my advantage.

Today I was almost successful in an attempt to assassinate one of my tormentors by weaving around his feet as he was walking. I must try this again tomorrow– but at the top of the stairs.

I am convinced that the other prisoners here are flunkies and snitches. The dog receives special privileges. He is regularly released–and he seems more than willing to return! He is obviously retarded. The bird has got to be an informant– I observe him communicating with the guards regularly. I am certain that he reports my every move. The captors have arranged protective custody for him in an elevated cell, so he is safe — for now.

But I can wait.

My childhood friend Vicky forwarded me an advertisement email she got, with her hilarious facetious comment:

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—-Original Message Follows—-
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To: vicky
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Date: Fri, 3 Feb 2006 15:54:20 -0000

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The first thing that made me crack a smile all day. I was going thru my old, old emails and came across this text message my friend (I won’t disclose who) had discreetly tapped out and sent me to my email acct while on a blind date.

“I am here- about to cry- I think he had down syndrome as a kid. How thw fuck did he manage to finish Boalt? WAaaaaahhhhh.”

Ah, the good old days when we were single and could just turn down potentials and never look back. (BTW, “Boalt” is UC Berkeley’s school of law.)

I was doing a product search for the Mr. Wonderful doll, and I found out that not only are there key chains available for this product, but there’s also a Ms. Wonderful doll! Ms. Wonderful says things like:

* Don’t feel bad honey, I forgot it was our anniversary too!
* You don’t need a glass, just go ahead and drink right out of the carton.
* Your new secretary is cute! I bet she’s smart too!
* Oh… you’re watching a ballgame. Just stay right there on the couch and I’ll whip up some snacks.
* I’ll finish cleaning out the garage honey, your friends are waiting for you to play golf.
* You’re going out with the boys tonight? You’ve worked hard… Enjoy yourself!
* A new reversible drill, oh honey it’s just what I needed!
* Are you sure it’s ok to wash this shirt? You’ve only worn it for a couple of days.
* Don’t worry about taking the trash out. I can use the exercise.
* It really doesn’t matter if you leave the toilet seat up, it makes it easier to clean.
* You’re right, we don’t need directions, maybe you’ll find a short cut.

HAHAHAHA! Mr. Wonderful says things like:

* You take the remote, as long as I’m with you, I don’t care what we watch.
* You’ve been on my mind all day. That’s why I bought you these flowers.
* Why don’t we go the the mall, didn’t you want some shoes?
* You know honey, why don’t you just relax and let me make dinner tonight.
* The ball game is not that important, I’d rather spend time with you.
* You know, I think it’s really important that we talk about our relationship.

And then there are Wonderful Son and Wonderful Daughter. There are no examples of what they say, but I bet it’s something like, “You’re always right, dad. I wish all my friends’ parents were as smart as you and mom.” Or, “I cleaned my room early today, so with the extra time I’m going to straighten up the living room.” “I’m sorry I got an A on the test. I’ll try harder for an A+ next time.” “Dad, may I interview you when you have some time? I’m writing an assignment about the hero in my life.” “Why don’t you and mom go out for dinner tonight? I’ll babysit my kid brother tonight.”

Jujitsu was funny today. We were so worked on abs that there were literally puddles of sweat on the mat where those of us less conditioned (or more moist) had strained. Okay, it was the older men, especially the ones new to jujitsu. One of the girls that I’m friendly with was walking toward me after the floor warmups, and she inadvertently stepped in a puddle. Instantly her face crumpled and she walked off the mat to the edge of the carpet and started scraping her foot on the carpet, while whimpering at me and saying, “Oh, ew, ew, ew…” I could not help but laugh. I had never seen her, Ms. Former Air Force Girl Vanessa, whimper like that. She said she was picturing sweat mixed with hair product and it was all squishy and cold. We both gagged.

Then later, the instructor was trying to fine-tune a new girl’s arm-twisting skill, and I was the next one up to be twisted after a punch. He was telling her to grab my hand and pull, then go into a quick twist so that it’d turn my shoulder downward as I turned counter-clockwise from the arm pressure. “You’re supposed to whip ’em with the arm,” he said. When she tried it on me, I deliberately and almost exaggerately whipped my body counter-clockwise to let her know her motion was correct, altho she didn’t have enough control to actually whip me, and then I did a forward fall. The instructor told her she did good, and I hopped off the mat to the end of the line to Vanessa, whispering as I got close to her, “I whipped myself.” I was all proud of myself for helping the new girl out, when I saw that Vanessa looked kinda shocked. “You what?!” she whispered back. “I whipped myself,” I repeated, and then realized what she thought I’d said. We both tried hard not to laugh out loud. “Yeah,” I confessed, “that puddle you stepped in earlier was actually me. Why is this class so LONG?!”

About an hour later, at a water break, I was standing about a foot away from the aforementioned puddle that was still there. Josh started walking toward me chatting with another guy as I tilted my water bottle into my mouth, and right when I got a mouthful of water, I realized he was about to step in the puddle, but I couldn’t say anything. I watched his face carefully as I swallowed. No expression change whatsoever. He did, however, meet my eyes when he saw that I had this huge smile on my face. “I was gonna warn you before you stepped in that, Josh, but I had just taken a swig of water.” “Yeah, thanks for the warning. That was — cold and squishy,” he said, still without any changes in expression. I guess guys just handle these things better.

Mr. W’s lying on the bed close to where I’m on the computer. I leaned in and touched the tip of my tongue to his upper arm. “It’s a good thing you’re not frozen,” I said. He looked quizzical. I explained, “Cuz then my tongue would stick to you.”
“Yes, it would,” he said. “I used to get my tongue stuck on the window.”
“Why were you licking a window?”
“Cuz in Chicago, it’d get really cold and a thick layer of ice would form on the window, and I’d try to lick it off.”
I paused, then immediately swiveled in the desk chair toward the computer. “I gotta blog this,” I mumbled.
“This was when I was little!” he protested, seeing I was about to make a fool out of him publically online. “It was really cold in Chicago! This was before those cartoons came out where people’s tongues were stuck on poles, so I didn’t know that it could happen. Those cartoons had to come from somewhere! Cuz it’s true! People do things like that!”

But it was too late. All those justifications just added to an already forming blog post.

With the new year, I’m going to attend all sessions of jujitsu — 4 days a week, 2 hours per session from 6:30p -8:30p —

*** INTERRUPTION *** My bailiff JUST told me he’d recently found out that law enforcement (all branches) has a website in which single (or married and player, which is more likely) law enforcement officers can post a dating profile and women can shop for someone online like a dating service. It’s called something like “date a hero dot com.” My reporter and my reaction after looking at each other: “Oh, gawd. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!” I turned to my bailiff and said, “Like you guys need something else to help your egos along!” *** END OF INTERRUPTION ***

and I’m still going to hit the gym at lunchtime. I’m also adding running back into the mix. I can’t hit the weights as hard as I used to, one because my conditioning isn’t there anymore, but two because I’m still training my coworker (who is improving her abilities and physique by leaps and bounds), but I figure the extra cardio and martial arts will make up for the lack of weightlifting. Running will keep the muscles off, anyway, and I don’t want to be overly hefty and sacrifice flexibility and speed in jujitsu.

Hopefully this more rigorous workout regimen will afford me the weekly Tuesday lunches with my current and retired coworkers, and the Friday evening happy hours. And since I’m gonna be home more, maybe the house can be better kept, as with the feline roommate.