Housekeeping

See on the top right of this website? That's a "polling" add-on. Yes Citizen, it is meant to see what your opinion is on whatever the given topic may be. Last time I put one up I was the only one to vote. So lets get pumped up and Vote!!

Also, Have you been telling your friends about the bloganator?I mean, I don't think it would hurt. I was thinking about launching a guerrilla campaign and spray painting my stenciled logo all over my town and yours. Now accepting entries for potential logos.

And finally, if you have a photo you think the world needs to see, send it in, we'll post the good ones.

To Hell and Back

I put off having my wisdom teeth out for about....8 years. Even though my main man Dr Adams told me that they were clearly coming in I guess I sort of hoped that he might re-access the situation some years down the line and change his mind.
I started having a small bit of pain in the back of my mouth and I was sure this meant trouble. I told my mom who immediately, without giving me a moment to take back what I had said, got in touch with my Uncle Randy. Uncle Randy is a dentist in the bay area and within a week of telling my mom about the slight pain, I was having x-rays taken. The results were exactly what I had dreaded:

"All four of your wisdom teeth are impacted. One of them is straddling the nerve there and I think you'll need to see an oral surgeon. As far as the pain though, it doesn't look to me like that is from the wisdom teeth. "

In my mind, this was worst case scenario: your pain is not associated but you DO need your wisdom teeth out. Is this not lose-lose?

So I set up my appointment with a lovely oral surgeon named Linda Miyatake. I remember laying on the operating table while the doctor checked my heart rate

"Op! Someone's nervous!" she said.

Next thing I know, I woke up in what felt like a very strange place. I sat up just a bit and caught a glimpse of a few ladies working on the other side of the window. Something must have been very upsetting about this because I proceeded to cry for the next....10 hours. I wasn't in pain, I wasn't concerned about my well being, I just really needed to fucking cry. and cry and cry and cry.

When I got home, I followed the doctors orders and immediately ate something so that I could take my Vicodin. Now I'm not sure if it was the Vicodin or the anesthesia, but something gave me intense, dinosaur-menopause like hot flashes, so much so that I couldn't even sleep away the awfulness.
When the doctor called to follow up later in the evening, Jon had gone to lacrosse and I was home alone. I immediately started to cry when I heard her voice
"I'm so glad you called" I said, sobbing.

*Note: I am a mother fucking bad ass and I would never cry to a stranger like this unless they had messed me up as bad as she did.

She told me stop taking my vicodin. My sweet, sweet Vicodin.

For the next week I was in constant agony. Crying on the phone to my mom, yearning for the day that it would all be over. Googling wisdom teeth horror stories and finally hitting the vodka and handling it like the Russians.

Only someone who is extremely confident in themselves would dare post photos like these:

1. This is about 2 hours after I got home, still feeling funny, but not like "ha ha" funny.



2. I call this the Godfather photo. I am scratching my neck and saying that I will "make him an offer he won't refuse"



3. And finally, I like to think of this photo as my celebrity DUI mug shot...It just screams Nick Nolte



yes. Lets just let that sink in for a minute.


Would you not be crying too?

It took at least 4 days to feel even remotely better and the discomfort probably stuck with me for a solid 3 weeks. It most certainly does not feel like I made space for my other teeth, or relieved any sort of pressure. In fact, if anything, I feel like I could use the extra four teeth. I read somewhere that wisdom teeth can come in very handy...

My Other Car is a Taco Truck

I had $1.00 tacos for lunch for about the gazillionth day in a row today. They are too delicious and I am as yet unable to resist the temptation of the of the taco truck as it rounds the corner towards our neighboring parking lot.
It took me awhile to get the schedule down. I saw the truck parked across the way at another business park and I drove over there one day to try and beat the rush. Just as I pulled up the truck started to drive away.

I pulled up next to him so that our driver's side windows were facing and he and I could have a quick chat.

I signaled for him to roll down his window...

Hey Homeboy, A Donde Vas?

He told me that he was going to the Wal Mart office building just around the way as he does everyday at Noon. We made a plan to rendezvous in two minutes time which we did and it was lovely.

He kindly placed my order and asked if I wanted mild or hot salsa, and trying not to look like a total poser, I said "wellll, is the hot really really hot?"

and he said "Pues....ees like a heet and run" (translation: Well...its like a hit and run)

Pleased with his analogy I replied "Cool. Hook it up with the hit and run".

Ever since that enchanted meeting, I have received nothing but exquisite service. Occasionally, if it is slow, they will even spread a thin layer of beef, salsa, cilantro and white onions on the floor of their serving truck for me to splash around in. The little corn tortillas form delicious lily pads and while I bathe in the cilantro I splash salsa on my face...it is invigorating.

These tacos are so good that every trip to Ruddy's (yeah, I'm pretty sure its a spelling error on their part, but I give them the benefit of the doubt) is pure decadence at $5.00 a meal. It is like a vacation to Mexico all in itself. Pronounced MEH-HEE-KO. If you said "MECKS-ICK-O" in your brain, go back to the beginning and re-read until you get it right.

Gringo.

Helping People Help Themselves

Oh Richard, you sexy, nimble little thing you.

Cry Baby

Today when I got home from work I had to play with the dogs just like any other day. Luckily they are both "good" enough that I can play with them at the same time. While one waits for their turn, the other goes and fetches. Once we get going its like clockwork. Lucy flawlessly catches her Frisbee and Zephyr fetches a tennis ball and I have yet to see them collide while doing so.
But today, I threw the tennis ball for the Z Man and I didn't even throw it that hard....But it hit Lucy directly in the eye. You would not believe the scene she made- crying and yelping and begging for someone to call 911...



Look at her pouting.

And right now you are saying "AWWWWWWWW" but Friend, I assure you that is unnecessary. She is so faking it.

Wiki Why?

I customized my Google homepage with iGoogle and I love it! I have the National Geographic photo of the day, CNN news updates, a fancy background, the moon's exact stage, and I even have 3 little ladybugs that crawl around the screen. Being a big fan of Wikipedia, I also added the Wiki How of the day- A veritable treasure trove of how-tos and do-it-yourselfs. Below you'll find a list of the recent How-Tos and...call me crazy, but I'm pretty sure I could figure most of these things out...

1. How to give constructive criticism using a "feedback sandwich".
Duh...That's when you say something you liked, something you didn't like, and then something else that you liked so as not to leave the person you are strategically criticizing on a bleak note.

2. How to make a jumping paper clip.
Fold it. Apply pressure. Release?

3. How to get rid of foot cramps.
Stop sitting on your ass.

4. How to knit a laptop bag.
I already know how to knit, but I will never be uncool enough to knit myself a laptop bag.

5. How to avoid a moose or deer collision.
Brake?

6. How to hold a dachshund.
One hand or two.

7. How to deal with a rude, arrogant and mean subordinate.
Tell them what's up.

8. How to be an anarchist.
Save your "Economic Stimulus Plan" check. DO NOT SPEND IT

9. How to wake up from the American Dream.
Stop being so bitter!

10. How to be annoying.
Give me a line of cocaine and ask me about evolution.* Cause I'll tell you right now, I will not stop talking.




* Just kidding Mommy.

UPDATED TO ADD:

Me: There's a cocaine reference on the blog today.

Erin: Oh, Schuman.

Me: What dude, you know I don't do cocaine.

Erin: Yeah, but doesn't your mom read it?

Me: Yeah, but she's cool.
So you think it's okay?

Erin: I mean...It's a cocaine reference.

Me: You can totally reference marijuana and cocaine occasionally - pop culture does it. Just not the other stuff. Like there's nothing funny about heroin but you can make a cocaine reference mabye once every five years.

Erin: Well then...You're done.

Big Up to Brisbane

Today around 12:00 I peeked my head over my cubicle wall and noticed a big plume of smoke billowing up from the hill just across the freeway from our building in the sleepy town of Brisbane, California. It wasn't a second later that I realized that I was witnessing the makings of a brush fire that in a few moments would pick up and sweep across the hill.
At that moment however I was disappointed to see that the people I would normally mention it to were nowhere to be found. So like a dumb ass, I walked to the middle of the office, looked left and then right and just blurted out:

"DUDE. Fire!!"

There were three people in the room at the time and they each looked at me, completely unamused, and then looked away again; In my haste I forgot that they were each on conference calls and as "the new girl" I guess I could have gone without that.

But seriously, in a matter of minutes it started looking really "ferocious" (SFgate's word) and it was quickly nearing the lone house on the hill. And for a moment it seemed so determined to fuck shit up that 19 fire engines, one water tanker, a helicopter and two airplanes were all called on the scene.



During the fire two things kept running through my mind:
1. Why didn't I bring my camera today? This is perfect for the Bloganator
2. So, like...Are we gonna get to leave early?

In the end it only burned about 8 acres... Fine it was 7... But it looked really scary.
I chalked it up to God brewing up a fire, ensuring that I would have something to blog about today. He is so selfless like that.

But no, we didn't get to leave early. (Where was the big man on that one?)

A San Francisco Experience

Last night Jon, his brother Jeff, my friend Natalie and I went out to dinner and a play. We started off the night at Lingba, a Thai restaurant in the Potrero district. They had a great drink menu and Natalie and I shared the "Bowl of Monkeys" which was basically a vat of rum and some sort of juice. You know you're drinking something special when the purchase of your beverage comes with a Polaroid photo.

The food was yummy too, I had Chicken Himapan which came with cashews and a few other delectable ingredients. When asked for an official, on-the-record review of the place, Jon says "it was good."
It was easy for dinner to be overshadowed however, because once we finished our bowl of booze we headed over to a "playhouse" called the Xenodrome. I can say "house" because that is pretty much what the place was, a converted San Francisco house with high ceilings, a port-o-potty and a lobby equipped with a bar that specialized in what appeared to be only Tecate canned beer. It was also a BYOB sort of place and we chose to take that route.
The play Point Break Live is a hilarious, interactive and awesomely low budget rendition of the movie starring Keanu Reeves and Patrick Swayze. The director of the film, Kathryn Bigelow, actually announces and plays a part in the show. Because no one could ever do justice to Keanu and his efforts in this role of Johnny Utah, undercover police officer turned surfer, a different audience member is chosen from a one line audition to play the part every night. Last night Johnny Utah was played by a man that was there for his bachelor party. He was a very un-Hollywood version of Philip Seymour Hoffman and his nickname was BEEF. As the crowd became more and more raucous we would yell in deep loud voices "BBBEEEEEEEFFFFF."
Whilst drinking Natalie managed to lose one of her shoes, her purse and I think its safe to say that she is the one that lost the coca-cola chaser, all down the back of the bleacher like seating and into the "prop room". Luckily the actors that were waiting "offstage" for their moment to return to the spotlight were able to rush in and pull each one of them out.

I could not possibly capture the hilarity of the show in a summary of it here. All I can say is that it was a true "San Francisco experience" as we had heard it would be, completely unique and loads of fun.

I woke up this morning feeling slightly more under the weather than I have in a long time, but it was definitely worth it. Nat and I went to breakfast and some eggs benedict and hasbrowns sopped up the hooch good and proper. When I got home I laid on the couch and slept....yeah, pretty much the whole day.

Hi. I'm Allie and...I'm the dirty kid.

No family with dogs is problem free. For awhile we took our dogs to the community "dog run" until we realized that it was flea infested. Then we dropped a Petco nuke that pretty much killed every flea within a ten mile radius and we have been flea free ever since. But now we have a new problem, a problem that I have no experience with nor do I care to have experience with: ticks.

Yeah. Disgusting.

So we have found a couple on the dogs- three total and they were each so gross I couldn't even handle looking at them, let alone take them off- I let Jon do that.

(the story is about to take an even more unfortunate turn)

I was at work. and I was chatting with my friend Courtney on AIM and working on a couple of things and I very casually, in fact I don't even recall having an itch, touched my left shoulder. And there was a little something there, I could feel, I figured it was probably lint or something. I brushed at it to get it off and it was then I realized that whatever this thing was it was stuck to my skin. and holy fucking shit its a TICK. and I am wildlife.

FREAKING OUT I grabbed at it and I threw it off. Onto the floor of my cubicle. and for some reason I sort of forgot about it for a second, assuming it was dead. But was it dead? No, it was not dead, I see it scrunched in the carpet, alive, wiggling its 6 trillion legs. ewwwww. So I dig the ball of my foot into it and the mother fucker just wont die. I do the unthinkable. I get a kleenex and I actually.grab.at.the.bug.and.squish.it. YUUUCCCKKKK I have the creepy crawlies just thinking about it. I threw it in my trash can and allowed myself to move on with a job well done. Traumatized, but moved on.

But was it dead? No, it was not dead, I see it making its way to the top of the tissue, the only thing in the tiny trash can, with a sort of can do conviction that I'd like to see in more humans to be frank. But what am I going to do now? Pull it out? Squish it again? No fucking way. so I put more tissue on it. and pushed the trashcan a little further away.

I can tell you with 100% certainty that that bug was not dead at that point. I glimpsed in and saw it, but when I came back from lunch it was gone. Vanished back to hell from whence it came.

I think the moral of the story is:
1. Don't go in my cubicle.
2. Don't take no shit from no bugs.

And yeah, we're taking care of the bug problem, thanks.

Super Busy

Someone I haven't seen in a long time recently asked me what I have "been up to" and I tell you friend, I could not think of one single thing other than work that was legitimate...a few other things ran through my head but they didn't seem appropriate:

1. Not exercising

2. Wondering why the last three contestants on American Idol are fucking retarded

3. Thinking of funny things to say to embarrass Erin on the blog

4. Picturing my bad dog as a fabulous coat

5. Hearing a lot about the multi-touch screen computer

6. Listening to the Beatles White Album disc one maybe a little too much

7. LOTT

8. Tooting my own horn (typical)

The Case of the False Alarm

It was tough coming up with something to write about today. It came down to Miley Cyrus, the Duck Billed Platypus, Jon's inability to write in cursive and the following....

This is a note of correction: In a previous blog entitled "Banana Hater" I referred to a situation where my dear friend Erin set off the house alarm while she was out of control drunk. While indeed she was intoxicated, I have a confession to make: It was not Erin who set off the house alarm, but rather LEIGH.

Who is Leigh you ask? Well she is lovely, but that part doesn't matter....What does matter is that my mom had no idea who Leigh was and if I had told her who had really set off the alarm there would have been questions as to why I was having friends she didn't know sleep over. And why was there a shopping cart and huge American flag in the living room?

Anyways. Erin has been demanding reparations and while some of the other events of that night are hazy I can say with certainty that in the case of the False Alarm, she is not guilty.

Mom's Day

The third and final Blogonator Superfan is my mom, Andrea. This photo was taken in 1974 when she was....five years old.




When I was 7 or 8 I went to Party City with my mom to get some supplies for my brother Cody's birthday party. Bored, and perhaps jealous of all of the goodies we were getting to pick up for him, I found myself wandering over to the balloon aisle. They were lined all along the shelves in the most beautiful latex rainbow and my senses were totally overwhelmed by how appealing it was. I found two colors that I really liked. Hear me citizen: TWO PLAIN COLORED LATEX BALLOONS, PROBABLY TOTALING $0.50 IN ALL. I asked my mom "Mommy, can you please get me these balloons?" and she said....

No. Put them back.

And at that moment these are the exact words that went through my brain: That's ok because I'm going to take them.

And rather than draw attention to myself by stuffing said balloons in my pockets I curled my hand into a tight fist over them and held on until we got to the car. Success. On the ride home I tucked the loot right underneath my "tot-rider" booster seat and felt like motherfucking John Dillinger. Like a 100%, Class A Badass. But by the time we pulled into the garage at home I had completely forgotten all about the big heist. Got out of the car, went downstairs to my room and did whatever it was I was doing those days.

Unfortunately for me, my mom decided to clean her car out that very same day. Maybe 2 hours after we got home she came downstairs holding my balloons and demanding answers.
What happened after that is a blur. All I know is that the words "You are going to return these and tell them what you did" were uttered and that would, of course, suck.
But time went by. She didn't mention it for a long time. And then one day she did.

The two mile drive felt like an eternity...I went in and handed the girl behind the counter the god damn balloons and I can remember the look on her face being one of total discomfort. I mumbled: "Um...I stole these and...I want to return them."

When we looked back on the episode for the first time several years later my mom said "Well, what you don't know is that I called Party City right before we left and told them you'd be coming!"



Mom's Favorite Schumanator Entry to Date: "See what I put up with"
Mom's Best Blog Comment to Date: Boy, your blog is just bitter.

Banana Hater

This is Erin. Erin and I have been friends for 8 years.
She likes my blog so much that when her internet is not working, she finds an alternative means of access and views my blog from there. For example:

"I read the bloganator and it was pretty sweet. My internet was down when I got home yesterday and like the avid fan that I am, I checked it from my phone. Say it with me now, "dedicated"."

During a winter break from college I had Erin and a few other "close" friends over and she got really wasted and wandered upstairs in the middle of the night and set the house alarm off. My mom still refuses to forgive her. (Nobody ever bothered to ask why I would turn on the house alarm when friends were sleeping over)

Erin also hates bananas. Sight, smell and taste...in fact I think she even hates the thought of bananas.

I have told Jon that Erin pitched a no-hitter once in high school so many times that now he cuts me off before I even finish the sentence. But it's true, she did and she (with my help) could definitely kick your ass.

Erin's Favorite Schumanator Entry to Date: (Toss up) "Survivor: San Francisco" and "The Truman Show"
Erin's Best Blog Comment to Date: "Well, I for one am totally entertained with the content of the bloganator. But I am familiar with the operator situation that you speak of and tu mama has a valid reason for her frustration. I mean, despite how hilarious it is to listen to you say something to Jon… hear his retort in the background… listen to you two discuss the topic for a minute… and then hear your version of what I have just heard him say can get a little confusing."

Lea Lea Bo Bea Banana Fana Fo Fea

The following is Part One in a miniseries of three entitled "My Most Loyal Fans". While there are literally hundreds of you that check in on the Bloganator daily, the three people in this miniseries have proved themselves to be the most invested in the words of wisdom that come from this website.



This is Lea, she works in the Customer Service sector of our fine company. Lea is looking at a picture of Raquel Welsh and refusing to be photographed. She is saying "She does not look a day over 40!" in utter disbelief.

Lea reads my blog like a priest reads his bible. It is her religion. Sometimes she knocks all other religions so intently that the Customer Service Manager has to come in and tell her that she is offending people.

Lea has invented a new AIM abbreviation. It is LOTT (which means Laughing on The Toilet for the layperson. ) LOTT is really sweeping the nation and Friends, I encourage you not to be left behind.

Lea's Favorite Schumanator Entry to Date:
"Spring has Sprung"
Lea's Best Blog Comment to Date:
"but the D&D guys...they were cool, right? LOTT!"

Earth Mama

I LOVE geo sciences. Earthquakes, rocks, weather, and volcanoes- I love them all. Today in Chile, a volcano that hasn't erupted in hundreds, maybe thousands of years erupted. It happened during a lightning storm and this photo from National Geographic News is so freakin' awesome, it hurts:

An Afternoon in Beautiful Oakland, California

We went to an Oakland A's game today just for the hell of it and it was fun. Sort of. We spent like $600 on a couple of stadium dogs and 2 beers, but don't you go expecting to do that?

The only thing we really know about the A's is that they play across the parking lot from the Warriors but by the time we left the game we knew something else: Baseball is pretty boring.

Somebody Call Animal Patrol

Because it gots to be illegal to look so fine!





Yes. I dressed my large dogs up in a dress and a t-shirt. Believe it or not, these sizes are XL and while I know it looks like they are suffocating in these photos, I can assure you that they were not.
Zephyr's shirt says "I put the ME in Awesome" (which he does) but in the end he just looked like he had on a pair of underwear as a shirt.



All in all well worth it if you ask me.

Put the Bacon Cheeseburger DOWN.

Last night we had the best burritos in San Francisco from a hole in the wall called Los Metates. I was going to blog all about how fabulous they were- I even took several photos of my plate adorned with various shades of salsa. But then I had Jon take a picture of me holding my burrito giving the universal thumbs up of approval and as I reviewed the photos I realized that that was perhaps the most unflattering set of circumstances in which to take a photo of oneself.
So unflattering that In fact... I was forced to consider (dun, dun, DUN) exercising.

So I says to Jon:
"What would you say about putting tennis on hold for the next two weeks and jogging the lake instead?"

And without missing a beat he looked me dead in the face and said:

"Fuck that and you for even saying it"

And that is why I love him.