When Women are at the Helm

Edge Designs is an all women run company that designs interior office space. They had a recent opportunity to do an office project in NYC. The client allowed the women of this company a free hand in all design aspects. The client was a company that was also run by women executives. It is said that the men’s restroom is a serious, quiet place. Not much camaraderie takes place in that room. The result of the women’s design scheme is brilliant.

With the addition of one mural on the wall, let’s just say the men's restroom is a place of laughter and smiles...

Tough Times

I went into the gas station to purchase five dollars worth of gas today.

The clerk farted and gave me a receipt.

Dear Cracker Barrel Server:

I realize that we were eating in your fine establishment located in NC. However, stopping everything you were doing and stating “this one here has a bit of an accent” then pointing me out was really rather odd. The smirk that appeared on my face was not an indication for you to give me your geographical breakdown. I really didn’t care if you have lived in NC, SC, KS, KY and originally hailed from Miami. Although it was quite helpful for you to explain why you southerners from Miami pronounce “coffee” just like any New Yorker I have had the fine pleasure of running into.

I thanked you for clearing up that enigma and you bolted. Undoubtedly, you were going to look up the word enigma in the dictionary located in the kitchen.

Y’all come back now, ya hear!

Cheeseburger in Paradise

Imagine you are performing the above song to two individuals who have never heard of it and believe that what sanity you had before the beach, completely got washed out with the tide. That pretty much set the tone for the beach excursion. That’s what I get for hanging out with a friend who is nearly 10 years my junior and her 13 year old daughter. Talk about generational gaps. It is what makes our trips together fabulous. Diversity friends, it is the spice of life. The new black, if you will.

We had a minor snafu upon check in to our lavish hotel. Once I talked HFS down off the ledge, our sandy journey began. I am extremely delirious to report that we did not, at any time, visit a flea market nor plan each morsel that would enter our systems the entire trip. Our itinerary consisted of the go with the flow agenda. We were on vacation, dammit!

As I previously mentioned, the entire cheerleading brigade of America happened to be in our little beach town the same time we were. It actually worked out well in that it kept the leering Canadian golf nuts out of our hotel. Yay team! Also, since they were competing the same time we were lounging, we did not have to deal with any extra self image problems had they been out and about while we were. Score! We also had some nice eye candy as it was also spring break for the college kids. I don’t seem to remember such hotties when I was in college. Maybe they grow them different these days.

Besides Patrick, who needs to visit a proctologist and have that stick removed, all of the servers we encountered understood and played along with our sense of humor. It makes for good tipping.

We are definitely not ready for any type of professional bowling competition. All I will reveal is that balls were rolled and pins were knocked over. Much giggling and sore muscles followed. This in turn made the hot tubs even more endearing.

My flights were enjoyable. On the way down I had to be social with my seat mate. It was not exactly what I had in mind but it made the trip move that much faster. On the way back I had what must have been a swinging couple seated next to me. They were doing their damnedest to make it into the mile high club. I almost had to ask them to move it into the lavatory. Luckily the turbulence we encountered cooled things down.

All in all I achieved what I wanted, relaxation. Of course more sun worshiping would have been ideal. I need to keep the dermatologists in business. Maybe next trip.

Fortune Cookie Wisdom Not Withstanding

Open Door Policy: open only for positive reinforcement or upbeat commentary. All others, DO NOT ENTER.

Interesting…….

Observations While En Route

Movers and Shakers: If your cell phone has bad reception in IAD, redialing and YELLING into the cell phone will not improve the clarity of the call. You should really get up, move about the terminal and find a better location. What good is the Wharton School of Finance, really?

Airline employees who know and understand that their families will most likely have to wait and possibly get a flight home at some point that day and have come highly prepared to amuse their children, is the most viable commodity in any airport.

Airlines who first cancel your flight due to “mechanical trouble” and then magically reroute you before you check in are more wonderful than I can express. A cautionary note to those of you who push the limit of acceptable check in time, none of you got rerouted. Sometimes it pays to follow the rules.

Sitting next to Radar O’Reilly’s twin on the way to the beach was amusing. At least we had a well-rounded discussion. Lessons to self, it’s ok to take your nose out of your book sometimes.

Two-four-six-eight! Oh my nerves how they grate! The Cheerleaders. Yeah, yeah, all those cheerleaders. Note to self, plan next beach trip to avoid the National Cheer Leading competition.

Travelers: if it’s too cold and you insist on wearing ankle socks with your sandals, please just put your shoes on. It’s not a good look on elderly folks and even worse on younger ones. It completely depletes the hotness factor. Trust me.

Similarly, white Bermuda shorts under a wool sport coat. NO, just no.

Apparently it has been a long time since I flew on a plane. Did you all know they load the passengers according to “zones?” Who knew?

More to follow, thought I’d tide you over with these observations. Not enough time to recap the fun lights of the trip. Must catch up with reality and work.....

Gone Beachin

Headed to the shore kids. Will be searching for my message in a bottle. Be creative.

Please try and behave yourselves in my absence.

Be back soon, buh-bye!

Trolling for Octogenarians

The last time I made a dash to the beach, I had my pick of Canadian snow birds. Apparently Myrtle Beach is the new black for Canadian golfers. There must be no room in Florida what with all the north easterners flocking there. No matter, I have always said that I should find a seasoned gentleman who is willing to turn his assets over to me. Why not?

I’ll tell you why not. If the crop includes nothing but happy go lucky gregarious, aged Canucks who love to golf, I am just not interested. If you see me relaxing in the hot tub, my head back on the ledge, eyes closed, it’s probably not the best time to show me your open heart surgery scar and give me the intimate details of how you beat the gout. Is this what it has come to? My only pick are these octogenarian golf nuts? I’ll pass. I willingly donate this demographic over to all the other ladies who enjoy this sort of thing. Having worked in the medical field, I am done hearing about ailments especially while on vacation. The thought of changing their Depends is just not that appealing. Not much into to golf either.

I prefer my beach getaway with the girls, thank you very much!

Musical Tables

When I was younger, it was not usual for my family to go out to eat. It’s not that we could not afford to, it just wasn’t something that was in our norm. My mom is a phenomenal cook. On the rare occasion that we did venture out, it was always a spectacle.

You see my dad has an aversion to air conditioning. He did not have that luxury growing up so he is extremely sensitive to drafts. A typical dinner outing would go something like this:

Family Wicked would be seated in the restaurant; our drink orders would be taken. Commence with the draft patrol. My father would raise his hand in the air testing for the dreaded draft that would inevitably cause him to have a headache.

Dad: (hand raised in the air monitoring wind shear) Do you all feel that draft?
Mom: No, but we are not as sensitive as you are. If you don’t like this table then we should move.
Dad: ( now up and strolling throughout the restaurant standing near empty tables doing the draft test) ( Myself and Brain Surgeon – Selfish Countessa not born yet- are hiding behind our menus by now) Hey honey, this one seems ok.
Mom: Are you sure?
Dad: Yes, this is much better. (Now there is an entire family waiting to be seated at the perfect, draft-less location)
Hostess: Can I help you sir?
Dad: We prefer this table, less draft.
Hostess: (rolling her eyes) Fine sir; let me tell your new server.
We have now made the move to the new and improved table. Our new server greats us, the other family gets our original table. We place our orders.
Dad: (performing the dreaded draft inspection again) Wow, it is really breezy here. Do you feel the breeze?
Mom: (ignored the question entirely and is no doing her lip smacking maneuver which indicates she is not happy) (Me and BS are furiously stirring our drinks with our straws)
Dad: I am really worried that the kids will catch a cold in this atmosphere. (Keep in mind he is a physician and knows full well that air conditioners generally do not cause one to catch a cold)
Mom: The kids will be fine. If you are not happy with this table, then you need to go find a table that is suitable and sit there for a few minutes. Then we will move, otherwise we are staying put.

As I got older, this routine became highly embarrassing for me. I would let my dad know that before I sat down with him he would have to find the perfect location. This would explain the minimal dining out experiences. As years past, my dad took to wearing a hat in less formal eateries or simply dealing with the gusty conditions.

Perfect for What Ails You

This burst of Spring that we are experiencing is just what the doctor ordered. I am a person who needs four distinct seasons. Isn’t it fantastic how a couple of days of warmth and sunshine can elevate everyone’s mood?

I’ve spent the better part of the weekend enjoying the weather while relaxing on the deck. Spring cleaning? Not for me, I am going to enjoy every second of this Spring preview before Mother Nature slaps us back into reality.

I have a bet going with a co-worker as to whether or not we will have another minor snow fall before true Spring gets sprung.

Any takers?

Dear Exuberant, Male Target Employee:

I cannot express to you how much my errand running time was improved by your comment.

As I was trudging through Target today, I asked a very pleasant young man if the suntan lotions were out in display. The biggest grin appeared on his face and he proclaimed that he would point me to the suntan lotion if I promised to take him along with me. I told him if he could be ready by Thursday, I would come back and pick him up. He told me that as luck would have it, he was off that weekend and he would be ready AND able to join me.

So Jeremy, I will swing by on my way to the airport and hopefully HFS and Jr will not mind. The more the merrier. As I always say.....

Swag

I have no problem supporting any elementary, junior or high school fund-raising campaigns. I do have a problem with the parent displaying the order sheet in the lunch room using strong arm tactics to get the items sold. How does this teach the child to raise money for the cause? It’s a serious question. If you want my money, then the kid is going to have to do the fund raising. I think it’s only fair.

What kind of message are we sending to the children of today if they don’t even have to exert any type of energy to raise funds? If you are one of these parents, I don’t want to hear you complaining that junior is an irresponsible kid and can’t even be bothered to clean up his or her room. I also don’t want to hear that the offspring has been kicked out of school due to having someone else write their term papers. Look at the example you are setting.

Now if you will excuse me, I have some Girl Scout cookies to devour. Purchased from the cutest GS you’ve ever seen who knocked on my door by herself and sold her product. Her mother present at the bottom of the steps playing the role of chaperone.

Epileptic Gyrations

This is the only way I can describe Taylor Hicks’ performance last night on American Idol. I think he sang his song brilliantly. But the spastic movements, I am having a difficult time getting past them.

Also, is it just me or is does this season seem to have only mediocre talent? Hopefully once they clear the top 12, the performances will get better.

I know, I know. If I could do any better, I should have tried out. For the record, I am way past the age cutoff. Otherwise, I would have been right there!

If you believe that, I have some ocean front property in Arizona to sell you. Drop me a line…..

Not a Fluke

It seems my family gets along famously in public eating establishments. We have now had two consecutive gatherings where all of us thoroughly enjoyed each others company. Of course, Little Mermaid was absent this time, she dissed us for her friends. I suppose I knew at some point Aunt Wicked would be trumped by one of her close companions.

Nary was an unkind word spoken. Perhaps the world is spinning in the wrong direction? Conceivably, we have learned to behave ourselves in public. Either that or we are all aging like fine wine. We took our jocularity back to my parent’s home where we recounted old stories while feasting on tea and cake. It was a veritable snort fest. We did remember to keep our pinkies extended while sipping (some of us slurping) our brewed tea; however. Family Wicked is nothing if not classy.

Patient Concerns

Specifically for Wallofdenial who has felt that I have been grumpy of late. Hope you all enjoy this, when in doubt lob in some medical humor.

A young, student nurse appears to give a man a partial sponge bath.

"Nurse", he mumbles, from behind the oxygen mask. "Are my testicles
black?"

Embarrassed, the young nurse replies, "I don't know, Sir, I'm only here to
wash your upper body and feet."

He struggles to ask again, "Nurse, are my testicles black?"

Concerned that he may elevate his vitals from worry about testicles, she
overcomes her embarrassment and sheepishly pulls back the covers.

She raises his gown, holds his penis in one hand and his testicles in the
other, lifting and moving them around. Then, she takes a close look and
says, "There's nothing wrong with them, Sir."

The man pulls off his oxygen mask, smiles at her and says very slowly,
"Thank you very much. That was wonderful, but, listen very, very
closely...... "A r e - m y - t e s t - r e s u l t s - b a c k?"

Free at Last

The Washington area medical community can breathe a sigh of relief. Brain Surgeon’s nemesis is finally gone. I believe her exact words were “ding, dong the prick is gone.” I am pretty sure the standard we bid you a fond farewell hop to a Georgetown watering hole did not occur. I guarantee all of them had a huge party to celebrate the departure. What a wus, he phoned in his resignation while on vacation. If that doesn’t prove that his MBA was obtained from the Acme School of Business, then I am blonde and blue-eyed.

General Electric, I offer you my sympathies. Surely a company of your stature will find that the newest edition to your medical department is truly an incompetent boob. We are talking about a man who cannot even inquire as to how you are in less than a 4 page diatribe. Memos become term papers in the landscape format. Let’s not even get me started on the lack of professionalism. GE, ask him why he lost his position the head of the department in such a manner that facilitated the door of his office to be removed. Good luck trying to train him to your high standards.

Those of you out there who depend on GE for your medical equipment needs, heed this warning. If you run into this medical trouble shooter who cannot string enough words together to form a coherent sentence, hang up and contact someone higher in the company. I fear for your health.

Must Be a Guy Thing....

These Volkswagen Fast commercials? I just don’t get it.

Anyone care to enlighten me?

Happy Orange Juice

I cannot remember the exact reason for the event, but while perusing another blog I was reminded of this event. The title of the memory jarring post was Getting Caught or Not.


My friend K was spending the night at my house and we were juniors in high school. We were suffering from some sort of high deal angst and decided to procure some vodka. The stupidity of our methods stuns me to this day. So many things could have gone wrong but the karma must have been right.

After my parents went out for the evening, we drove to the local liquor store. We handed the first person we saw some money and asked them to buy us a fifth of vodka. (As you can tell, idiocy was running rampant that night along with our doldrums) Thankfully, the person who delivered our potion was neither a cop nor someone who would harm us directly. Forget that he was contributing to the delinquency of minors.

We returned home to an evening of screwdrivers. Why screwdrivers? Mainly because it was the beverage of choice at my folks dinner parties, they always called it “happy orange juice” and because I usually helped out with the bartending duties during these events. In other words, I knew how to mix a mean happy orange juice.

Before we knew it, the fifth was gone and we were feeling no pain. Well truth be told, we were feeling nauseous and the house was spinning but we were no longer experiencing the angst that led us there in the first place. K and I thought we were being quite covert as we cleaned up the kitchen of any evidence of the screwdrivers. We knew we were smarter than my parents. We both fell asleep/passed out right before my parents returned.

Death would have been better than the feelings we both had in the morning. At that point, angst sounded so much better than the mammoth hangovers we were sporting. When my mom called us down for breakfast, I was sure we were busted. Although I figured that since they did not come busting into my room upon their return, perhaps our drink fest was not discovered.

We had our game faces on as we entered the kitchen for breakfast. The table was set. All was copasetic. That is until mom placed 2 glasses of OJ in front of us. At that same moment, my dad set the empty vodka bottle on the table.

I have not ingested a screwdriver since…….

Psychology 101

Which would you rather deal with, a full on aggressive work associate or one who is extremely passive aggressive? Is one easier to deal with over the other? If so why and if not why not?

My personal preference is to deal with the full blown aggressive. For one thing, they are not in control of their actions due to the adrenaline surge. Sure it can be intimidating but it’s amusing to sit back and watch them self destruct while you remain calm and poised. This tactic works well with an aggressor. For their goal is to rattle with their display.

The passive aggressor is certainly more calculating and therefore can do more damage. Generally, the passive aggressor will not confront you directly, rather go over your head and you’ll hear about it from a superior. Depending on how you handle this reprimand/criticism, the passive aggressor will consider the battle won or lost. It has been my experience that passive aggressors thrive on the fall out.

The best lessons I have learned through experience, to not let them know what you’re thinking. It will stop both types in their tracks. It isn’t easy. Especially if you share work space with either or both, but it can be done.

Happy President’s Day

To those of you who get this day off, I am sure you are reflecting on the Presidents who enabled you this holiday.

For the rest of us, back to the salt mines. Yes, I am jealous. We in the medical field generally end up treating those of you with the federal holidays.

Oh the Humanity

Seen while running errands this weekend: man walking his yellow lab who was taking a dump into a plastic bag affixed to the dog’s rear end.

Is this really necessary? Let the poor dog poop in peace, then pick up the deposit and continue with the walk. I would almost suggest not picking up the poop if you are going to humiliate the poor animal with that display. Wait, on second thought, please pick up the poop. Otherwise, the neighborhood will be littered with excrement land mines. Unfortunately, my community has this problem. I really wish my neighborhood had more responsible dog owners. Can’t wait for Spring and all the flies.

Dog owners, be responsible! Leash and pick up after your pet

Fellow Ebayer All Up in My Grill!

Correct me if I am mistaken. Isn't Ebay an auction site? A site where more than one person bids for an item of interest? This is the norm, isn't it?

Why, then, am I receiving berating e-mails from a co-bidder? Listen lady. This is how it works. If you want the item bad enough, keep bidding. Don't send me repeated e-mails telling me what you think of my bidding prowess.

I really didn't want the item that badly; how can I resist now? Game on. Bring it sister, just keep the bids flying!

Romeo, Where For Art Thou Pants?!?!

For Christmas, I purchased four tickets to the American Ballet Theatre’s production of Romeo and Juliet. It was to be a cultural bonding experience for the females of my family. For those of you keeping track, my mother opted out of this event. Therefore; it was I, both sisters, Brain Surgeon and Selfish Countessa, and my ten year old niece, Little Mermaid. As a side, HFS was in town so she was also introduced to the wonderful world of ballet.

HFS and I met the rest of the gang at the Kennedy Center. Little Mermaid was very excited. If I am not mistaken it was her first professional ballet performance. She has danced and seen The Nutcracker but this was the first professional ballet company offering.

As the lights went down and the dancers appeared on the stage, Little Mermaid visibly flinched in her seat. She immediately leaned over to me and said "Um, they aren’t wearing any PANTS! Where are their pants?" I assured Mermaid that they were wearing tights. She replied, "but I can see EVERYTHING! It wasn’t like this in Nutcracker." By now she has her right arm extended in front of her fingers pointed to the left, shielding her view. "They need longer jackets if they aren’t going to wear pants!" I told her that these were the costumes for this show and she needed to get past this obstacle. She said that she would and lowered her arm and enjoyed the presentation.

In her defense, these young men were well endowed. Their man parts were expertly wrangled leaving nothing to the imagination. Little Mermaid became entranced with the story and in the end forgot about the wardrobe malfunction. HFS declared her love of wrangled man parts.

Oh, to be cultured.

1/8 Pipe

Ladies and Gentlemen, may I introduce to you the 2114 Olympic Half Pipe hopeful.



Yes friends, Little Mermaid is busy practicing her moves. As you can see, currently she is only able to complete the 1/8 pipe. You know what they say, practice, practice practice!

Easier Than Shoveling!

If You Wear Your Pajamas Inside Out, This is What You'll Get:

Welcome to the “blizzard” of 2006. Special thanks to Mother Nature who gave us this beautiful tableau on a Sunday. I am guessing all of us can enjoy this without worrying about getting to work. Although there is the shoveling. Always pros and cons to every situation.

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I think I will attempt to build a snow man on my deck. I think it might be easier than shoveling.

Stay Tuned, Regular Schedule of Blogging Imminent

I am going through some changes at work. This keeps me from writing regularly. I am in the middle of a lateral move which has its Pros and Cons. The biggest Pro is that it will be a five mile commute opposite rush hour traffic. The biggest Con is that I will lose my picture window and be placed in a tomb.

Corporate re-shuffles. You gotta love em.

Be back soon. Talk amongst yourselves.

Favorite Super Bowl Commercials

As usual I can never remember the product being advertised and it seemed as thought the commercials were not that memorable this year. I do have two favorites:

1) The commercial featuring Fabio who aged badly on a gondola
2) The caveman who got stomped by an elephant right after he kicked a baby
dinosaur. Karma sucks donkey balls sometimes.

What were your favorites?

Overheard at Work Today...

“That is hilarious without being funny.”

Make up your own scenario. Extra points for creativity.

Stupefied

(Sing to the Tune of Camp Hill Races)

(I stand corrected, please go back and sing again to the tune of Camptown Races)

Stupid people piss me off
Doo-da, doo-da
Yes indeed they piss me off
Oh de doo-da day

Dear Health Nut:

I applaud your fitness routine. Jogging in the middle of rush hour traffic is truly an art to behold. Until of course your idiocy causes a chain reaction.

Let me give you a helpful hint. Red hand in the cross walk means DO NOT JOG. From now on, please wait for the white walking figure before you insist on jogging through the intersection. It may keep you from bouncing off the hood of the Honda. I was impressed that you were able to regain your stride once your feet hit the pavement.

I am no expert, but I am pretty sure you should have stopped to give some sort of information to the three vehicles who were involved in the crash due to your negligence

It’s Been Bugging Me

I am very sorry that the ABC reporter and his camera man were severely injured in Iraq. However, I do not understand the amount of coverage this issue is receiving. Was it not their choice to go over and report the news?

I know that our armed service men and women signed up but I am pretty sure the majority of them didn’t choose to be over there. Why don’t we get minute by minute information on every injured soldier who is over there so the rest of us can be safe?

I am wishing a speedy recovery and safe return of everyone over there.

A Word to the Scribe

The best advice for Bloggers is to not write anything that you wouldn’t say directly to the individual to whom you are referring. Those who know me personally and with whom I have an active relationship already know that anything written here has previously been expressed to them directly.

How then does this translate to lurkers who may or may not infer that the topic somehow relates to them? Do they have the right to be offended? Do I have the right to vent my opinions on a venue of my choice; this site?

One might ask: if I would not directly tell the offended parties how I feel/felt about something then why write it in the first place? My answer to that would be simple; if anyone is offended by anything I express on this site (one set up for me initially and then for whoever may stumble across it whether accidentally or through extended research) then they should stop reading. This is not rocket science. I never claimed it to be. This exercise is primarily for my amusement or mental health, whichever is in disrepair at the time of the post.

The traffic is fantastic, gravy if you will. It warms the cockles of my heart to see that I have regular readers, some more obsessive than others. None of you are pulling the wool over my eyes, I know who reads and when and how often.

I have had this discussion with other Bloggers. Enquiring minds want to know. If you have an opinion, by all means, let me know.

Stop! Or I’ll Shoot!

Recently at work, some of us were recounting any run ins we have had with the Law; speeding tickets mainly. I mentioned to the group that before a certain incident, I often wondered how State Troopers were able to pull over two motorists at one time.

It was the summer of my 25th year. My family had a small place in Ocean City, MD. With my younger sister in tow, we headed off to the Beach (“down the Ocean- Hon”). To avoid traffic, I usually made the trip late at night. We were on Route 90 heading east. I was one of two cars on the road at the time, the other car maybe half a mile behind me. A car headed west passed me. Instinctually, I looked in my rear view mirror to find the car was a State Trooper who made a sharp U-turn and was about to pull me over. I alerted my sister that fact and she went into panic mode, not sure why. I told her she needed to calm down and I pulled over. As I was slowing down the car behind me zoomed by, just then the Trooper pulled back into traffic and pulled that car over. I assumed that the Trooper wasn’t interested in me at all. I casually tried pulling back out onto the highway. The Trooper responded in kind by drawing his gun. My sister went into a shrieking surrender pose in the front seat, screaming don’t shoot, DON’T SHOOT!!!

I quickly pulled back onto the shoulder and apologized profusely. It was at that exact moment that I realized how Troopers were able to pull over multiple vehicles.

The Trooper came over to me first and found my sister still in surrender pose and hysterical. He was a kid. He was visibly upset by the reaction of my sibling. He stammered a few words about watching the speed limit and to be safe. He then waved us on our way.

To this day, my sister won’t drive at night. I think I may have scarred her for life. However, her histrionics got me out of what would have been a costly ticket.

Perfect Equation

Last night my whole family gathered together for dinner out. We are not the typical family who eats out together often. There are many reasons for this: picky eaters, a set of parents’ who feels the cost is too high ( it’s a generation thought process rather than lack of funds) busy schedules, etc.

However, last night went off without a hitch. I am not sure if it was a fluke or if we can all be completely social away from a home setting. I am happy to report that in the two-hour span of time we spent together there was no discussion of ailments being suffered, no overt sibling rivalry displayed, no hurt feelings. It was very relaxing. We actually had spirited discussions of current events AND everyone enjoyed the food. It was nothing short of a miracle.

We made the executive decision as a family unit to try this once a month since we all had a good time. Hopefully the future gatherings will measure up to this one.

All I’m Sayin

If it happens outside my window, it could possibly make it into the blog. If you want your private business to remain so, may I suggest:

1) Not having animated conversations right outside my window
2) Refrain from public displays of affection. Tonsil hockey – grow up.
3) If you are going to break your neck staring in you might as well be prepared
to wave back. Common courtesy, really.
4) Say thank you if you insist on pounding on my window to let you in because you are too lazy to fish out your key to the door so early in the morning.

No need to get all up in my grill.

There Must Be An Echo…

Thanks to all who have inquired. All is well, no worries. Work is getting in the way of extra curricular activities. Will pick up the pace soon. I promise.

Till then, tell me what’s new with you?

Being Kept Down by the Man

Greetings to all else who are working today. Next life, I am going to be a government employee.

Happy MLK Day

Disappointed Yet Proud

Unfortunately, the Redskins season ended yesterday but they made it farther than they were able to in the last nine years. I am proud of their efforts and hope that they keep the momentum positive for next years season.

Hail to the Redskins.

Happy Triskaidekaphobia!

I am not one to get on the fear of 13 bandwagon. Whatever flips your switch?

Today, I intend to live on the edge and let black cats cross my path and walk under a ladder. While I am pushing the limits, I may even give a speech, pet a spider, take a hot air balloon ride and dance with a clown. Why not?

Have a great weekend everyone. Go Redskins!!!!!

Tag! I’m It

Me Me Me Meme. I’ve been tagged by Joe, of Cut The Shit fame. He has asked me to describe five weird habits about myself.

When I first received this I thought what? Me? Weird habits? Then after I picked myself off the floor following the maniacal laughing fit, I sat down and came up with 213 weird habits. They say the first step is to admit the problem. Now that I have condensed the list to a mere five, let us continue. I have included the rules below. If anyone of you want to participate feel free to do so. I am not much of a tagger, rather in this case a tagee. Thanks a bunch Joe!

1) I was raised to be afraid of doctors. (Considering the fact that my own Dad is a physician I always felt this tactic was odd.) The only time I would have to go to my pediatrician was for immunizations. All other normal childhood ailments my Dad would treat. When I was misbehaving, my Mom would threaten me with a visit to the doctor for a shot. I hated shots. It got to the point of me diving under the dining room table when Mom tried to get me to my scheduled pediatrician visits. Luckily for me, I had a wonderful doctor. He was pretty smart too, he taught me to be afraid of the nurses with the needles and not him. Brilliant!

2) If you are a solicitor, you’d be wise to not knock on my door. My home is my sanctuary. The last thing I want in an unwanted visit from a salesperson or Jehovah’s Witness. The last time I slipped and answered the door on a weekend, I was greeted by 2 persistent Jehovah’s Witnesses. They would not leave so that I could close my door. So I told them that I would be happy to listen to their spiel if they didn’t mind coming in while I sacrificed a Christian. Amazing how fast they flew down the front steps. Come to think of it, they’ve never knocked since.

3) I love verbal sparring. Spirited debates keep my brain working in high gear. Although I may push a bit too far. Recently I was expostulating with a co-worker and he finally raised his hands and stated that was the first time he was “ sodomized by words.” Ouch. I will work on that, yikes.

4) I LOATHE shopping. I may be one of the few females on the planet who don’t enjoy this ritual. This includes grocery shopping. I just did not receive this gene from my Mom. My two sisters did for sure. Perhaps I am adopted. Hmmmm.

5) I am hooked on home improvement TV shows. Specifically Trading Spaces and While You Were Out. The amount of time I spend viewing these programs one would think that I am the Queen of Do-It-Yourself. Nothing could be further from the truth. I get fantastic ideas from these shows but lack the energy to actually start a project. I would love for someone to nominate me for the While You Were Out show so I could return to a great surprise.

The first player of this game starts with the topic “five weird habits of yourself,” and people who get tagged need to write an entry about their five weird habits as well as state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose the next five people to be tagged and link to their web journals. Don’t forget to leave a comment in their blog or journal that says “You have been tagged” (assuming they take comments) and tell them to read yours.

Nip and Tuck

My site definitely needed some rejuvenation. I had an idea of what it should look like for some time but I lack the knowledge for the actual mechanics involved. Cut me some slack. I only recently learned how to add pictures to the site. It’s a process for this old gal.

I am happy to present to you the new and improved look. I think it’s fabulous. Many thanks to my Web Mistress Extra Ordinaire, the accomplished HFS. She is the techno wizard behind this operation.

Between this blog botox and the Redskins moving forward in the playoffs, my weekend has been quite nice. Hope yours has also.

Forasmuch As.....

....You just know that some days will be excessively arduous.




The rest of you have a nice day!

Miscommunication??????

My thoughts and prayers go out to the families and sole survivor of the coal mine accident victims. I cannot wrap my head around how such a “miscommunication” could occur.

In this day and age of high tech everything, one would think such an important detail would be verified in triplicate before being reported. It must be that our society is in such a hurry to be the first to report news whether right or wrong that things like this can happen.

Deplorable!

Here’s a Tip: Plant Your Corn Early

Unsung heros, foods service workers. I have great respect for wait staff. Talk about a thankless job.

It is rare that I don’t tip the standard 20% when eating out. If I happen to be unhappy with anything while dining out, I’d rather speak to the manager and let them know why my experience was inadequate rather than cheating my server. Nine times out of ten, the bad service has to do with what is going on behind the scenes rather than the server not performing their job. I do know people who will look for every opportunity to hassle the wait staff in an effort to get a free meal or discount. They’re also those who feel some sense of entitlement and treat servers with irreverence.

I tried to be a waitress ( the politically correct term back then) while in college. It was not a task that I either was good at or enjoyed. I lasted for half a shift. My demise came when an elderly customer, not happy with his visit, left me a penny for a tip. I grabbed the penny, followed him out to his vehicle and told him he must have dropped something and returned his coin.

Right after that, I turned in my apron.

New Year’s Resolution....

Make it to the PLAYOFFS!

Hail to the REDSKINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Happy New Year Everyone!

Happy New Year Recipe
For Peace & Happiness

Take twelve, fine, full-grown months,
see that these are thoroughly free from
all old memories of bitterness, rancor,
hate and jealousy; cleanse them
completely from every clinging spite:
pick off all specks of pettiness and
littleness; in short , see that these
months are freed from all the past;
have them as fresh and clean as when
they first came from the great
storehouse of Time.

Cut these months into thirty or thirty-one
equal parts. This batch will keep for just
one year. Do not attempt to make up the
whole batch at one time (so many persons
spoil the entire lot in this way), but
prepare one day at a time, as follows:

Into each day put twelve parts of faith,
eleven of patience, ten of courage, nine
of work (some people omit this
ingredient and so spoil the flavor of
the rest), eight of hope, seven of
fidelity, six of liberality, five of
kindness, four of rest (leaving this
out is like leaving the oil out of the
salad, don't do it), three of prayer,
two of meditation, and one well selected
resolution. If you have no conscientious
scruples, put in about a teaspoonful of
good spirits, a dash of fun, and a pinch of
folly, a sprinkling of play, and a
heaping cupful of good humor.

Pour into the whole love ad libitum and
mix with vim. Cook thoroughly in a
fervent heat; garnish with a few smiles
and a sprig of joy; then serve with
quietness, unselfishness, and
cheerfulness, and a Happy New Year
is certain.


Author unknown

Dear Neighborhood Exhibitionist:

Wow. Just wow. I have so much to say; too much adrenaline surging to collect my thoughts.

Your dancing prowess is exemplary. That whirly thing you do with your member is really quite amazing. Have you had any professional training?

Are you aware that while you are practicing your American Bandstand™ moves in the nude at 5:10 in the morning in front of your bedroom window with the curtains open, you are effectually giving the neighborhood a show?

For the record, I would like to point out that I did not seek out this performance. Dexter, my dog, happens to squat right across the street from his home. I will say that I have not needed my morning caffeine fix. Adrenaline surges are better stimulants that boring ole caffeine.

Rock on Dude! I’ll, um, see you tomorrow at 5:10 am.

Get a Room

To the couple who are obviously quite enamored with each other, I beg you, take it elsewhere.

Don’t get me wrong, I am all for expressing ones love but not in front of my picture window while I am trying to eat lunch and complete year end financial reports simultaneously.

Have some decorum.

Plus I really don’t have the time for a cold shower in the middle of my work day.

Early Christmas Present

Redskins 35 Giants 20

Thank you St. Nick!

A Politically Correct Christmas Story

A little something to enjoy in this crazy time. Be safe everyone!!!


'Twas the night before Christmas and Santa's a wreck...
How to live in a world that's politically correct?
His workers no longer would answer to "Elves".
"Vertically Challenged" they were calling themselves.
And labour conditions at the North Pole
were alleged by the union to stifle the soul.

Four reindeer had vanished, without much propriety,
Released to the wilds by the Humane Society.
And equal employment had made it quite clear
That Santa had better not use just reindeer.
So Dancer and Donner, Comet and Cupid
Were replaced with 4 pigs, and you know that looked stupid!

The runners had been removed from his sleigh;
The ruts were termed dangerous by the E.P.A.
And people had started to call for the cops
When they heard sled noises on their rooftops.
Second-hand smoke from his pipe had his workers quite frightened.
His fur trimmed red suit was called "Unenlightened."

And to show you the strangeness of life's ebbs and flows,
Rudolf was suing over unauthorised use of his nose
And had gone on Geraldo, in front of the nation,
Demanding millions in over-due compensation.
So, half of the reindeer were gone; and his wife,
Who suddenly said she'd enough of this life,

Joined a self-help group, packed, and left in a whiz,
Demanding from now on her title was Ms.
And as for the gifts, why, he'd never had a notion
That making a choice could cause so much commotion.
Nothing of leather, nothing of fur,
Which meant nothing for him. And nothing for her.

Nothing that might be construed to pollute.
Nothing to aim, Nothing to shoot.
Nothing that clamoured or made lots of noise.
Nothing for just girls, or just for the boys.
Nothing that claimed to be gender specific.
Nothing that's warlike or non-pacifistic.

No candy or sweets...they were bad for the tooth.
Nothing that seemed to embellish a truth.
And fairy tales, while not yet forbidden,
Were like Ken and Barbie, better off hidden.
For they raised the hackles of those psychological
Who claimed the only good gift was one ecological.

No baseball, no football...someone could get hurt;
Besides, playing sports exposed kids to dirt.
Dolls were said to be sexist, and should be passe;
And Nintendo would rot your entire brain away.
So Santa just stood there, dishevelled, perplexed;
He just could not figure out what to do next.

He tried to be merry, tried to be gay,
But you've got to be careful with that word today.
His sack was quite empty, limp to the ground;
Nothing fully acceptable was to be found.
Something special was needed, a gift that he might
Give to all without angering the left or the right.

A gift that would satisfy, with no indecision,
Each group of people, every religion;
Every ethnicity, every hue,
Everyone, everywhere...even you.
So here is that gift, it's price beyond worth...
May you and your loved ones, enjoy peace on Earth.


Copyright; Author Unknown

This Greeting Has Been Cleared by My Attorney

(A little something in the continuing vain of political correctness)

From me ("the wishor") to you ("the wishee") please accept without obligation, implied or implicit, my best wishes for an environmentally conscious, socially responsible, politically correct, low stress, non-addictive, gender neutral, celebration of the winter solstice holiday, practiced within the most enjoyable traditions of the religious persuasion of your choice, or secular practices of your choice, with respect for the religious/secular persuasions and/or traditions of others, or their choice not to practice religious or secular traditions at all.

I wish you a financially successful, personally fulfilling and medically uncomplicated recognition of the onset of the generally accepted calendar year 2006, but with due respect for the calendars of choice of other cultures or sects, and having regard to the race, creed, color, age, physical ability, religious faith, choice of computer platform or sexual preference of the wishee.

By accepting this greeting you are bound by these terms that:-

This greeting is subject to further clarification or withdrawal.

This greeting is freely transferable provided that no alteration shall be made to the original greeting and that the proprietary rights of the wishor are acknowledged.

This greeting implies no promise by the wishor to actually implement any of the wishes.

This greeting may not be enforceable in certain jurisdictions and/or the restrictions herein may not be binding upon certain wishees in certain jurisdictions and is revocable at the sole discretion of the wishor.

This greeting is warranted to perform as reasonably may be expected within the usual application of good tidings, for a period of one year or until the issuance of a subsequent holiday greeting, whichever comes first.

The wishor warrants this greeting only for the limited replacement of this wish or issuance of a new wish at the sole discretion of the wishor. Any references in this greeting to "The Lord", "Father Christmas", "Our Savior", "Rudolph the red nosed reindeer" or any other festive figures, whether actual or fictitious, dead or alive, shall not imply any endorsement by or from them in respect of this greeting, and all proprietary rights in any referenced third party names and images are hereby acknowledged.

This greeting is made under United States Law.

Dated this 20th day of December two thousand and five.

What the Bleep?

I always find it highly amusing to gather a bunch of people and their respective significant others together in the spirit of the Holidays. This group generally would not socialize together.

Snippets of conversations overheard while mingling:

“He was dividing up the pieces of shard into individual tea cups”

“That just wasn’t what I pictured her husband to look like, well done.”

“I really should to move on, but you know I am vested now.” ( One spouse referring to another)

“This coffee table, did you know that it really isn’t here?”

“Wait. Does this movie have any farting references? If not, I don’t want anything to do with it.”

“Really? I prefer to only frequent topless beaches.”

“Yes, children do say the darndest things. I totally feel that orgasms should be completely explained if they ask.”

“Existentialism and bouncing neutrons, now there is something I can wrap my head around.”

“This is making my brain hurt.”

Nothing says Seasons Greetings like intelligent discussions fueled with spirits.

Technorati Profile

Animals are Really People in Disguise - TGIF

WHAT PART OF QUIET DIDN'T YOU UNDERSTAND??



EVERYONE NEEDS TO FEEL SECURE....



COULDN'T HELP IT MA, THAT FIRST STEP IS A KILLER..



NOW WHAT DO I DO???



MAN...I'M GETTING SO FAT I CAN HARDLY SCRATCH MY OWN BUTT!!



THESE MORNING WALKS ARE KILLING ME!!!!



WE IS FRIENDS......



HAVE YOU SMILED TODAY?????





Enjoy the weekend everyone. Don't let the Holidays stress you out too much!!

The End of the World as We Know It

Yes friends, the DC Metro area is expecting a “wintry mix” starting later this morning and lasting through the afternoon/evening rush hour.

For those of you who had to rush to the grocery store for the wimpy snow fall we had last week depleting the area of milk, bread and toilet paper, I would like to ask that you refrain from leaving your homes. You should be entirely stocked and really if you can’t handle just snow you will not be able to handle snow, then sleet followed by rain. Followed by who knows what else.

You will thank me later.

I thank you in advance.

Tis the Season to Stop Engaging your Brain

Last night I took my dog into the Vet for his routine blood work. This was a scheduled visit with a Vet technician. Our goal was to draw some blood, figure out if the values were within the correct limits and refill a couple prescriptions.

One of the blood tests could not be preformed because Dexter’s prescription ran out 24 hours prior. I should have known better, but I too am guilty of disengaging my brain this Holiday Season. The Vet technician returns Dexter to me and we have the following exchange:

Vet Tech (VT): We couldn’t do the thyroid test because his last dose was over 24 hours ago.
Wicked: No problem, if you’ll give me some more medicine, I’ll bring him back for the test.
VT: We can’t.
Wicked: Why not?
VT: We can’t give him the medicine until we do the blood work.
Wicked: We are at an impasse then because if I don’t have the medicine to give to him the blood work won’t get done.
VT: Right.
Wicked: (trying to keep my cool because amongst all this we have a lab puppy whimpering loudly, a shepherd puppy barking even louder and a lap dog snorting uncontrollably. A cacophony of reverberating sound) May I speak to the Vet please?
VT: Okay
Vet: I don’t want to give out a full prescription until we know the lab results.
Wicked: Which we can’t do unless he continues with the medicine.
Vet: Right.
Wicked: Do you people have SAMPLES????
Vet: Oh! Of course, I’ll bring them right out.

So my advice to all of you is to engage your brain or simply do not go out in public right now.

Barbie Dolls, Limited Edition for Northern Virginia

Mattel recently announced the release of Limited-Edition NoVa dolls for
the Northern Virginia market:

McLean Barbie: This princess Barbie is only sold at
Neiman's in Tyson's II. She comes with an assortment of Kate Spade handbags, a Lexus SUV; a long-haired dog named Honey, and a cookie-cutter house. Available with or without tummy tuck and face lift. Workaholic Ken sold only in conjunction with "augmented" version.

Falls Church Barbie: This modern-day homemaker Barbie is available with Ford Windstar minivan and matching gym outfit. She gets lost easily and has no full time occupation or secondary education. Traffic-jamming cell phone included, headset sold separately.

Manassas Barbie: This recently paroled former "Porn
Actress" Barbie comes with a 9mm handgun, a Ray Lewis knife, a Chevy with dark tinted windows, and a meth lab kit. This model is only available after dark and can only be paid for in cash; preferably small, untraceable bills. Unless you are a cop, then we don't know what you are talking about.

Great Falls Barbie: This yuppie Barbie comes with your choice of BMW convertible or Hummer H2. Included are her own Starbucks cup, credit card, and country club membership. Also available for this set are Shallow Ken and Private School Skipper. You won't be able to afford any of them.

Reston Barbie: This former Dot Com Barbie cashed in
her options before the bust and now "works from home doing freelance
consulting" until the kids get older. She comes with a huge house on a tiny lot, and she channels her formidable energy and intellect managing the extensive social and athletic activities of her three kids, each of whom plays two sports, takes piano and karate, and is on the chess club. A member of the PTA, this Barbie is famous for running her daughter's Brownie troop like a Fortune 500 company ("Do we really have a solid ROI on Girl Scout cookies?"). Her greatest personal accomplishment this year was outmaneuvering the other uber-mommies to be selected as Room Mother for her son's second-grade class. She comes with AOL Ken, accessorized with a Porsche, giant gas grill, and flat-screen TV equipped with Tivo.

Woodbridge Barbie: This pale model comes dressed in
her own Wrangler jeans two sizes too small, a NASCAR shirt, and
Tweety Bird tattoo on her shoulder. She has a six-pack of Coors Light and a Hank Williams, Jr. CD set. She can spit over 5 feet and kick mullet-haired Ken's ass when she is drunk. Purchase her pickup truck separately and get a Confederate flag bumper sticker absolutely free.

Sterling Barbie: This collagen-injected, rhino plastic Barbie wears a leopard print bikini outfit and drinks cosmopolitans while entertaining friends at the McMansion. There is also a Percocet prescription available.

Leesburg Barbie: This tobacco chewing, brassy-haired
Barbie has a pair of her own high-heeled sandals with one broken heel
from the time she chased Beer-Gut Ken out of Fontana Barbie's house.
Her ensemble includes low-rise acid-washed jeans, fake fingernails, and a see-through halter top. Available with a mobile home.

North Arlington Barbie: This doll is made of actual
tofu. She has long straight brown hair, arch less feet, hairy armpits,
no makeup, and Birkenstocks with white socks. She prefers that you
call her "Willow". She does not want or need a Ken doll, but if you
purchase two North Arlington Barbie's and the optional Subaru wagon,
you get a rainbow flag sticker for free.

South Arlington Barbie: This Spanish-speaking-only
Barbie comes with a 1984 Toyota with expired temporary plates and three
back seats, but no car seats. The optional Ken doll comes with a paint-bucket lunch pail and is missing three fingers on his left hand. Green cards are not available for South Arlington Barbie or Ken.

Best Christmas Gift Received So Far. Probably EVER

I know, I should not have opened my present before the big day. There was no indication on the package requiring me to wait, so there.

My very good friend , HFS, as usual pays attention. I received a great card with HFS Jr.’s school picture which already has a prized spot on the refrigerator gallery. The package contained a t-shirt with conceivably the most apropos statement: “Let me drop everything and work on your problem.”

Considering the new leaf I have turned over, the t-shirt could not have shown up at a better time. I have decided to wear it under everything and when the situation is right, reveal the message to the defeatists of the world.

Thank you HFS!

Yes Blogosphere, There is a Santa Claus

I took a Mental Health Day from work today to begin my holiday shopping. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am proud to announce that my shopping excursion was completed in record time and with no injured or otherwise traumatized individuals.

We will celebrate this day next year. I began and finished in 2.5 hours. Let the festivities begin!!

Happy Holidays....

Snowy Conversations from the Past

Scenario: Working in East Jesus NC where snow is a rare occurrence. Running 5 medical facilities with about 50 staff.

Group of Excited Locals (GOEL): Wicked!!! It is snowing!!
Wicked: Indeed, it’s very pretty.
GOEL: We need to go home early.
Wicked: It just started, let’s see what happens. It’s still melting as it hits the ground.
GOEL: But you don’t understand, we need to make snow cream.
Wicked: Excuse me. What is snow cream?
GOEL: You aint from around here, are you?
Wicked: Nope.
GOEL: Snow cream, is ice cream made with snow. Only you don’t make it from the first snow fall.
Wicked: (Knowing I probably don’t want to know but I ask anyway) Really, why is that?
GOEL: Because the first snow is polluted, it’s dirty.
Wicked: Okay. But you know the snow falls through the same atmosphere each time.
GOEL: But the first snow cleans the air of it’s pollution.
Wicked: Blink…..Blink, blink.

Sometimes I wish I was back where life was simple. Most times I don’t.

We just had our first snowfall of the season in the Metro Area. It could not have been more perfect. Just enough snow to make it pretty but not enough to snarl traffic.

Clever or Ignorant

We all have had to fill out medical questionnaires when visiting a medical establishment for the first time. They are pretty important tools for your provider. They are even better tools for the ancillary staff.

Today one of my co-workers was giggling uncontrollably as I walked by. Of course my curiosity got the best of me. There is a section on the questionnaire asking sexual orientation. One of our patients answered the section by stating very active. I asked the co-worker the age and occupation of the patient. I was trying to determine if they were being clever in an effort to give someone who reviews the document a chuckle. The patient was 34 and under the section regarding work history, he replied “lots.”

Alas, the patient wasn’t clever, just obtuse. At least he is having fun.

Selfish Countessa

It is a sad state affairs when you think you might need an impartial arbitrator to be able to decide on a group gift for your parents. For the love of all that is holy, the holidays seem to make most family situations less palatable.

I used to think Selfish Countessa’s ( a.k.a. younger sister) issues revolved around her longing to be “Sadie the Married Lady.” Well she recently celebrated her 1st anniversary and she is less tolerable now than before the nuptials.

I mentioned before that I am the middle daughter with two sisters, one eight years older the other 8 years younger. We basically missed the typical rivalry issues to due the age range. No complaints on that front. The dynamic we ended up with was a very strong bond between me and Brain Surgeon (my older sister) and a basic forbearance of Selfish Countessa.

It seems Countessa doesn’t understand that the pecking order traits need to be modified in adulthood. I feel I am a bit old to be reprimanded by my parents after she whines to them about some perceived injustice against her Highness.

I have the unenviable task of setting up a meeting among the three of us so that we can, once and for all, iron out whatever issues we seem to have. It is not going to be pretty. First of all I need to find a location that is central to us all. Enough of me always bending to fit everyone else’s schedule. I have a life too. Finding said location will involve Selfish Countessa having to navigate the beltway. Did I mention she does not do the beltway. My feeling is we need to figure out why all the animosity. If we can repair the damage, wonderful. If not, so be it. I am not sure that one can change their ways as an adult. Selfish Countessa seems to have this sense of entitlement that is not warranted. Brain Surgeon has anger for deeds past, present and future. I admit to holding a few grudges for deeds past as well but have relegated myself to forge ahead.

Wish me/us luck. Hey Santa, if you are out there, throw us a bone. Would you?

A Reminder to the Sisterhood During this Season of Imbibing

When we girls drink too much:

We have absolutely no idea where our purse is.

We believe that dancing with our arms overhead and wiggling our butt while yelling “WOO-HOO”, is truly the sexiest dance move around.

In our last trip to pee, we realize that we now look more like a homeless hooker than the goddess we were just four hours ago.

We start crying and telling everyone we see that we love them soooo much.

We get extremely excited and jump up and down every time a new song plays because “OH MY GOD! I love this song.”

Our eyes just don’t seem to want to stay open on their own so we keep them half closed and think that it looks exotically sexy.

We take our shoes off because we believe it’s their fault that we’re having problems walking straight.

Nurturer Caretaker

Between Mr. & Mrs. Psychotic Hypocritical Jesus Freakazoids, Desperately Seeking an Alimentary Canal, Mr. Emotionally Damaged with Waa Waa Black Sheep Have you any Wool Syndrome and now Flaming Ogress you’d think I would be broken of my habitual need to help others.

Actually truth be told, I think I may be on a hiatus for a while. My bleeding heart society is closed. When will it reopen? Not for a LONG time. Recently my Mom gave me some sage advice and I think it is about time I take it. I am now in the keep Wicked happy and all else is gravy mode. It remains to be seen how long I can stay on track. Although I know my family and close friends have signed affidavits that state they have permission to beat me about the head if I stray in the slightest.

Thank God for each and every one of them.

Do Be Do Be Doooooo

Overheard while on line for coffee:

“He’s crazy!”

“No he isn’t! He has the BEST hair!!!”

So all you guys out there, sounds like all you need is a good do these days. Although probably possessing the ability to do it good would seem more important.

Perhaps the key is be good doing it with the best do.

Thoughts, comments, suggestions?

Warm and Fuzzy…Not

My Dad, who is an accomplished psychiatrist, loves to use his trade’s labels on anyone he comes in contact with, not excluding family. I am here to assure everyone those 43 years of subliminal psychotherapy have their pros and cons. He had to try his methods out on someone, enter the middle kid. Hi! My name is Wicked H.

After a particularly trying time in my life, Dad told me that he hoped that I would never end up in any type of program that involved a 12 step recovery phase. You see, I don’t fall for that methodology. What gives me comfort is that I don’t currently have an addictive personality which might lead me down such a path. Knock on wood; of course one cannot predict the future, so far so good.

Recently at work, we had a training session which involved upgrading a computer system. Like most people, the staff does not like change. Nothing earth shattering but a definite change in the way information is processed. Basically if one was avoiding any contact with a computer, they would have a huge adjustment to the new system. The trainer, a very upbeat cheer-leaderesque person, handed out a “goodie” bag at the end of the session.

It did not do much for me in the way of motivation but I thought I’d share it with you:

The contents of this bag are to assist you in the great interactions you have with people everyday. You should always be reminded how great you are and all the great things you do!

Rubber Band – A reminder to stay flexible.
Paper Clip – To help you hold things together.
Eraser – To remind you everyday is a clean slate.
Kiss – To remind you we all need hugs and kisses.
Candle – To remind you to share the light with others.
Band Aid – For healing hurt feelings.
Smile Sticker – Smiles increase the face value. It’s outrageous!
Mesh Sponge – For the rough road ahead – seek support of family.
Sweet and Sour Candy – To help accept and appreciate the difference in others.
Lifesaver – To remind you of the many times others need our help and that you need theirs.
Ice Cube – To keep your cool.

As I looked around the room, I saw that may 45% of the group saw the value in this prize. Me? I took out the chocolate, hard candy and the mesh sponge and threw the rest away.

Just for shits and giggles, I showed the handout to my Dad. After he finished reading it he asked how long it took me to trash it.

The man knows his stuff.

Post Prandial Playback

Due to missing the usual key apparatus for turkey prep, we punted and went with open roasting of the bird with a pesto rub. If I must say so myself, it was fantabulous. The rest of the meal was scrumptious as well and just enough food not the usual over abundance that none of us needs. Also the 2 pies that the B-I-L slaved over ( stood in the ugly pre-thanksgiving purchasing free-for-all at Costco) were equally yummy.

Younger Sis (YS) did indeed bring an entire dessert. There must have been a meteor shower causing the world to rotate backwards on it’s axis. Later, I realized that is was some sort of peace offering for the delayed return of a teaching skull. An entire post could be devoted to the skull debacle, but I truly don’t want to relive it. Bottom line, YS will never change and me and BS need to get over it. Our parents will always take her side on such matters and play the “we are going to die with one eye open” card. So be it. If there wasn’t at least one family squabble, then it wouldn’t have been a true family gathering.

Best pre-meal moment happened during my task of making sure all the side dishes were warmed to perfection while BS was operating on the bird. I made the fatal error of placing the gravy ( the only item not made from scratch - shameful I know) into the fancy schmancy gravy boat. My dilemma was could I put it into the oven after warming it in the microwave? Because I am now bespectacled and can no longer read the fine print on the bottom of said boat and BS’s eyes are even worse that mine, Little Mermaid to the rescue. We held up the gravy boat over her head so she could read what was underneath for us. Of course, the writing was upside down for the first try and then the boat was moving around too much from my hysterical laughter for Mermaid to be able to read it. Crisis averted, it was microwave safe only.

All in all it was a great Thanksgiving. With my family around me and all in relatively good health, we all had many blessings to count.

To all of you who are wacky enough to brave the whole “Black Friday” shopping bullshit. Well all I can say is God love you because someone should. Bring on the Holiday season stressors.

Thankful For:

Arriving late to work and seeing that the spot I usually park in was left empty for me. Seriously, that was a very lovely surprise. It does not take much to make me happy

Over the Potomac and Through DC to Brain Surgeon’s House We Go

Since my mom had her heart attack it’s become tradition to gather at BS’s house for Thanksgiving. We are going on three years now. The typical routine is for me to show up early on Turkey day after I have dropped Dexter off at his Grandparent’s house.

I have actually enjoyed this new tradition, it gives my Mom a break and it makes for great bonding moments for BS, Little Mermaid and I. B-I-L is usually watching football games and giving us backseat suggestions for the menu. We are accomplished cooks/chefs if I must say so myself. What’s on the menu? The traditional stuff with our usual twist. YS will be spending Turkey day with her M-I-L. She usually shows up for dessert. We have a bet going to see if she will bring a half eaten pie or cake.

Also this year I want to see how much money Little Mermaid will earn. You see, so far we have had to bribe her with cash to ingest any type of vegetable. Such the entrepreneur that kid (I am secretly proud of that particular character trait). She is probably a closet vegetarian but is counting on the cash for her visits to the Limited Too. (The love of shopping gene was not passed on by me)

Hopefully we can all be on our best behavior, remember why we are gathered and be thankful of all we have and that the family is for the most part healthy and happy.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.

Cleaning House

I am the first to admit that I am not perfect. Never have been and probably never will be. Perfect is boring. That is my story and I am sticking to it.

That being said, I do have a few character traits that for the most part have been tamed. Until recently, I have done really well controlling my 2 worst deeds. They are impatience and beating dead horses. To be completely honest, these 2 demons come out only when I become severely agitated. It’s not pretty, I concede.

The next 48 hours will be quite difficult for the recipient of my wrath. Once this hurdle is surpassed, I will be able to move on. Will it cure me of impatience and the beating of dead horses? Not completely. It will be the catharsis needed to forge ahead.

Bespectacled Flux

This being my first foray into the four-eyed world, I am having a difficult go of it.

For the record I am not imbibing, although it sounds like an excellent idea right about now. I cannot seem to navigate any type of movement with the goggles in place. I thought life through the looking glass was supposed to be clear and unencumbered. Instead I possess the gait of Foster Brooks.

This just in, I am only supposed to wear the damn things while securely seated in front of the computer and working.

I am off to see the Wizard for a brain.

Note to Self

When attempting to have witty repartee with someone, make sure that they are both witty and capable of repartee. Otherwise you will be faced with a situation where too much information is exchanged.

Case in point: I know a young man who has dread locks alternately every 2 days. Today, in passing, I jokingly asked him if he was an impatient man. He didn’t understand my question. I remarked that I wouldn’t have the patience to have my hair braided every 2 days. What followed was the following tangent, very seriously delivered:

Dread Lock Man (DLM): I used to be a barber.

Wicked H: Okay.

DLM: And many barbers do not clean their shears. I have seen many men end up with nasty bumps at their base of their necks. You know dermatology bumps.

Wicked H: Blink, blink.

DLM: So I will never cut my hair again.

Wicked H: …….

DLM: I saw one man with a third head on the back of his neck. And that is NASTY!

Wicked H: So you have your hair braided one day and then undone the next because?

DLM: I don’t want a third head on my neck.

Wicked H: I’m glad you cleared that up.

I’m sorry I asked. Next time I will make sure the conversation will be at a level we both can enjoy. Helpful Hints from Wicked H.

Dear Aimless Mumbling Blowhard:

I warned you. Did you listen?

Do you think the Acme School of Business, where you received your MBA, would give you a refund? Oh, you didn’t think your employers would eventually find out that your “MBA” came from a school that advertises on matchbook covers?

GWU called. They have obliterated any record of your attendance. You have seriously tarnished the reputation of their Allied Health program. Tsk, tsk.

So how do you like being a grunt? How about the hospital staff questioning every order you issue? Isn’t that a hoot? You did such an upstanding job hiding in your office for the past 2 years grooming your overgrown ear hair that none of the ancillary hospital staff has a remote clue as to your existence or function. Come to think of it, it is one of your voluminous flaws. How about those 13.5 hour long shifts. Are your perfectly ironed chinos in a wad?

Wasn’t it hilarious to find that your office is now a storage room? Bet that was a proud moment for you. How about when you entered the room of the Chief to find out that you were stripped of your duties. DEMOTED. Admit it, that had to hurt.

Karma is a bitch.

This Post Is Not Meant to Offend Cat Lovers

My name is Wicked and I am a dog lover.....

You Know You Love Dogs When:

You have a kiddie wading pool in the yard, but no small children.

You have baby gates permanently installed at strategic places around
the house, but no babies.

The trash basket is more or less permanently installed in the
kitchen sink, to keep the dog out of it while you're at work.

You can't see out the passenger side of the windshield because there
are nose-prints all over the inside.

You refer to yourselves as Mommy and Daddy.

Your dog sleeps with you( for the record on the floor around the perimeter of the bed).

You have 32 different names for your dog. Most make no sense, but
he understands.

You like people who like your dog. You despise people who don't.

You carry dog biscuits in your purse or pocket at all times.

You talk about your dog the way other people talk about their kid.

You sign and send birthday/anniversary/Christmas cards from your
dog.

You go to the pet supply store every Saturday because it's one of
the very few places that lets you bring your dog inside, and your dog loves
to go with you.

You open your purse, and that big bunch of baggies you use for
pick-ups pops out.

You get an extra-long hose on your shower-massage just so you can use it to wash your dog in the tub, without making the dog sit hip-deep in
water.

You don't think it's the least bit strange to stand in the back yard
yelling, "Google, pee!" over and over again, while Google tends to play and
forget what he's out there for (but what your neighbors think of your
behavior is yet another story).

You and the dog come down with something like flu on the same day.
Your dog sees the vet while you settle for an over-the-counter remedy from
the drugstore.

Have I missed any?

Ice Breaker or Stupid Question?

I went to my get my oil changed today with the Jiffy Lube Team. As I got out of my vehicle, the guy who confirms the information on the computer looked at the “I Voted” sticker on my chest.

Jiffy Lube Guy (JLG): Did you vote today?

Wicked H: Nope.

JLG: (Blank stare followed by rapid blinking)

I believe one should have fun while running errands. Of course with my luck, the transmission may fall out when I go over a pothole.

Pot Luck Etiquette

I have a question for the masses.

If you are invited to a family pot luck brunch and you are acutely aware of the number to be present, shouldn’t your dish be plentiful enough for those in attendance? Similarly, shouldn’t you simply leave the 12 pieces of peanut butter brownies at the hosts home upon your departure?

Perhaps my expectations are too high. Or the offender is a) out to lunch, b) her elevator does not reach the penthouse, c) she somehow got switched in the nursery before being brought home or d) all of the above.

Whatever!

Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right…

Every month, I am surrounded by otherwise seemingly intelligent, functional individuals whose brain synapses cease-fire for 5 days. You can set your watch by it.

Is it the stress of reaching a deadline? They really don’t act as if they even care about the freaking deadline. Could they be fooling the rest of us the remaining 25 days of the month? Anything is possible. Do they act this way to simply drive me batty? Even though I may not show it on the outside, that is truly the result of these brain farts. And they are the smelly kind.

This process takes place 12 times a year. We have been performing it for four years now. If anyone of you has any ideas as to how I can motivate the troops to not freak out at the end of each month, I am open to all suggestions.

On my way to purchase spectacles I think I might also pick up a wig. You know, to hide these bald spots created by me pulling my hair out.

I Can See Clearly Now

Right after I get out of denial and purchase my first ever pair of eyeglasses. Myopia with a side of bifocals. Joy!

I have found as I age, I am choosing physicians who are exponentially younger than me. Not sure exactly why this phenomenon is occurring. Perhaps because I find that the younger Docs have a better sense of humor. If I need specialists, they better have a personality. Dammit!

My Ophthalmologist could not have been older than 30, if that. She had a very good bedside manner. We had an interesting exchange:

Eye-Doc: Due to your age, I am going to use this torture device to measure the amount of tears your eyes produce. ( She actually shoved two pieces of graduated cardboard into each lid)

Wicked H: Only if I can shove them into your eyes too. ( Funny how quickly she left the room after inserting said devices)

Eye-Doc: Hmmm. Looks like we won’t have to perform punctal implants, the moisture level in your eyes is satisfactory.

Wicked H: Darn. No sympathy for me when I get back to work.

Eye-Doc: No need to worry, I’ve numbed your eyes. The drops should only sting a little bit.

Wicked H: Do you all still use cocaine to numb the eyes?

Eye-Doc: Not anymore.

Wicked H: Bummer. I guess I’ll have to score on my way back to the office then.

She left the room laughing and I left the office with a prescription to become bespectacled.

Which One Of These Is Not Like The Others?

Happy Halloween!

Trip Without Luggage

This morning during our walk, Dexter, my 12 year old golden, proved to me that he is still very young at heart. Lately during his morning constitutional he is only able to saunter around the neighborhood. It comes with age. I have accepted that.

Today we had excitement. For some reason, I changed the schedule around a bit and we took our walk after I had gotten ready for work. My plan was to have our walk then off to work I’d go. Dexter decided to also change our routine. As he rounded the corner he encountered the neighborhood bunny. Today he decided chasing it was in order. The bunny was 18 feet away. How do I know this you may inquire? His leash is exactly 16 feet. When he reached his limit of 16 feet, he turned on the power and succeeded in nipping the bunny in the tail and knocking me down. In the process dragging me 2 feet in the dewy morning grass.

I am extremely proud of my furry kid. However, I would have preferred he perform this feat while I was still in my non-work clothes. Dexter still has it. Now I need to go and remove the blades of grass that are stuck in my teeth and change clothes.

Pasta and Puccini

I found a great way to keep the youngsters away from my office, thus enabling me to be more productive. Play my classical tunes loudly. They claim their ears will bleed if they listen too long.

I will definitely keep this tool handy. Now if you will excuse me, Beethoven is calling my name.

THAT’S What I’m Talking About

Go Redskins GO!!!

Welcome back Levar. We’ve missed you.

Most points scored by the Skins in I don’t know how many years. ( 1999 maybe?)

Offense and Defense jellin.

Boo-Yah!

Hilarity Ensues

Family gatherings bring out the questionable best, especially with my tribe. October is a very busy celebratory month for us. We have four birthdays and my parent’s wedding anniversary to commemorate. Due to various and sundry schedule snafus we have decided to gather together this Saturday night and rejoice.

It took an entire month to decide on which date we would amass. In my defense, I have the clearest schedule and I defer to those with busy social calendars. Also, I made sure that my sister, the brain surgeon, and I who have a birthday a week and eight years apart did celebrate at the correct time.

Another few weeks passed before a destination could be decided. Finally I asked the younger sister to make a reservation and then send out an e-mail to all parties because we can’t seem to pass along information without details either getting skewed or left out entirely.

Let the grumbling begin:

B-I-L: Who let YS decide where we were going to eat?

Wicked H: She didn’t, BS and I decided.

B-I-L: Well I don’t like that restaurant.

Wicked H: Have you ever been?

B-I-L: No.

Wicked H: Then how do you know you don’t like it?

My Mom: Oh…I have aches and pains. Woe is me.

Wicked H: Does that mean you don’t want to go out to dinner then?

Mom: No, just reminding everyone of my aches and pains.

Dad: Did we find a place where the entrees start at $6.00?

Wicked H: You have fun at McDonald’s Dad, we are going to the restaurant.

Brain Surgeon: Ugh! I am tried of all the whining and bitching. I’ll be at the restaurant, whoever wants to come can and the others can do what they want.

So, hope you all have half as much fun as we might. I am open to any other offer from anyone of you. Someone, please, make me an offer!!!!

Because I Have the Giggles...

Confucius say:

He who eats jelly beans, fart in technicolor

Everyone has a photographic memory, some people just don't have film

Man who eat crackers in bed wake up feeling crummy

Two wrongs not make right, but two rights make U-turn

If you not pay your exorcist, you get repossessed

Best I can do first day back from vacation, drowning in work.

Abreaction

They are a contingent. Inseparable. Intrusive as the day is long. You can make many postulates and judgements in a 24-hour period. It’s a full time job for the quartet. It has to be exhausting. They are nothing if not punctual. If you don’t carry a time piece, it won’t be needed in their vicinity.

From the outside, it seems ineffectual, boring. Not for this assemblage. They thrive for the knowledge the rest of us could care less about. Maybe the rest of us have lives, other remunerative items to sustain us.


Carry on sad souls. Conceivably one day the tides will change and your days will pass more exuberantly. Perchance effectually.

Perhaps not.....

Tympany With Taps

If you love classical music and you are a fan of Savion Glover, may I suggest you catch his show “Classical Savion.”

Ninety minutes of classical arrangements complete with rhythmic tap interpretation by Mr. Glover. I didn’t believe the pieces could have been enhanced by his tap dancing but I was definitely wrong. It was nothing less than brilliance. What made the evening even more special was the venue, one I had never visited before tonight, and the company of Little Mermaid and Brain Surgeon.

Happy belated birthday Mermaid and Brain Surgeon. I am kind of glad we didn’t get to celebrate until tonight. I don’t think it could have been any better.

I urge you to catch this show. It was amazing!

The Art of the Deal

This morning, I was privy to an area of life that I will never experience on my own. It wasn’t part of my destiny. Thankfully I can learn and grow from these deal makers.

In the span of 45 minutes I witnessed complicated debates, compromises, clenched threats and intricate deals spun like Charlotte’s web. It was amazing. Nay mesmerizing. Where was I? The Hill? A courtroom? No. I was shopping for shoes at DSW Warehouse.

In the time it took me to try on and purchase five pairs ( who knew I could be a shopper?) of shoes, the toddler brigade of Northern Virginia tested their respective mother’s within inches of their precious lives. Did you know that a 2.5-year-old little boy can make excellent use of the wadded up pieces of tissue paper that annoys the shoe shopping public? Indeed. Charlie was quite industrious. He turned them into badminton birds and used the molded pieces of plastic (equally irritating) as his and little Eddie’s racquets. Their net was one of the many low rows of shoes, DSW’s trademark layout. Cecilia, who was getting an early start of her disdain for wadded up tissue paper, decided to shred them all into various heaps throughout the store. Joey, stroller-bound literally, was practicing untying and hurling his shoes at his mother. In his defense, he was simply imitating his mom. I mean really.

While I was checking out, I watched the following negotiations:

Charlie: Sentenced to 15 minutes of time out after forfeiting the game and cleaning up his mess.

Little Eddie: Incriminated in the makeshift badminton tourney, lost his trip to McDonald’s.

Cecilia: Guilty of littering, was told that her afternoon play date would be cancelled unless she cease and desist immediately. I watched her also grab a few of the badminton birds left behind by Charlie and Lil Eddie.

Joey: Asked by his mother if he saw anyone else having shoe tantrums? His response was to hit her square in the head with his other shoe.

All this reminded me why I despise shopping. It also gave me a better understanding of the whole Mother’s Day Out schematic. If these ladies can’t get their short reprieves, I am not sure that today’s toddlers would make it into adulthood.

Smoke Gets in Your Eyes

I saw this sign posted at a place of employment attached to the time clock:

“No Smoking Within the Time Clock!”

Hmmm. Unless this group has an ability to shrink themselves and gain access to the innards of said time clock, I really don’t see it as an issue.

Odd.

Any thoughts?

Daintily Dangerous

My older sister attended most of her high school dances. You know the formal ones. She was quite the social butterfly.

This tale is about her first home coming dance. You know I am not a fashionista in any sense of the word so I cannot remember what she wore. I do however remember that her date wore a baby blue tuxedo complete with matching ruffled shirt. I remember this because I had to palpate the shirt, it was that foreign to me. Her date was fun for me even before it started. My father kept asking my sister the name of her date so that he could greet the young man properly as he answered the door. Thirty minutes before Jeff arrived, my father kept repeating his name. My guess was he didn’t want to embarrass my sister or himself once he arrived. Even as he was walking toward the door, he asked one last time. In unison, my sister and I said Jeff.

“Phillip, how wonderful to see you” my father said as he shook the young man’s hand. I also remember my sisters audible groan. Top that off with me massaging the ruffled shirt, I am sure she couldn’t wait to get her date started. Off to dinner and dancing they went. Her curfew was reviewed several times in the few minutes it took them to rush out the door.

Later when she returned, mom and I were waiting in her bedroom. We wanted all the details! The ones she would share. It was odd that she never mentioned how dinner was she jumped right into the details of the dance. Finally, mom asked her about dinner. My sister turned the deepest shade of red. She quickly said it was fine and started to get ready for bed. Mom kept inquiring and my sister eventually told us what happened at dinner.

It turns out that in her attempt at being dainty while eating her salad, the date took a wrong turn. The cherry tomato that she bit in half while perched on her front teeth, made a very interesting pattern of juice and seeds on Jeff’s ruffled shirt. She said she was mortified. It took forever for him to return to the table and the stain did not look any better, in fact it was worse.

My sister was not amused by the amount of laughter emanating from my mom and me. She kicked us out of her room and slammed the door.

We have since referred to the story as attack of the killer cherry tomato.

Dear Northern Virginia Commuters:

We have been spoiled with a drought all summer and early Fall, that is no excuse to forget how to drive in the rain. Come on folks, we are better than the raindrops.

In case you have forgotten, let me give you a quick refresher course:

Traction is compromised when the roads are wet, keep some distance.

Jersey walls tend to have puddles at their bases. If you cannot compensate for that, choose an alternate lane to drive in.

Applying make up, reading the Post, programming your palm pilot are all unacceptable generally but FORBIDDEN in the rain.

These are but a few indiscretions that I witnessed while driving to work today. You have a full weekend of rain to practice your safe driving skills.

Make me proud!!

Sign, Sign, Everywhere a Sign

Sent to me via e-mail, always one to share.......

ACTUAL AUSTRALIAN COURT DOCKET 12659

A lady about 8 months pregnant got on a bus. She noticed the man opposite her was smiling at her. She immediately moved to another seat. This time the smile turned into a grin, so she moved again. The man seemed more amused, then on the fourth move, the man burst out laughing, she complained to the driver and he had the man arrested.

The case came up in court. The judge asked the man, who was about 20
years old, what he had to say for himself.

The man replied, "Well your Honor, it was like this: When the lady got on the bus, I couldn't help but notice her condition. She sat under a sign that said: "The Double Mint Twins are Coming" and I grinned. Then she moved and sat under a sign that said: "Logan's Liniment will reduce the swelling", and I had to smile! Then she placed herself under a deodorant sign that said, "Williams Big Stick Did the Trick", and I could hardly contain myself. BUT, your Honor, when she moved the fourth time and sat under a sign that said, "Goodyear Rubber could have prevented this Accident"? I just lost it."


CASE DISMISSED

Middle Ages

Today I am celebrating the 18th anniversary of my 25th birthday. You do the math. I already know the answer.

I am quite comfortable with the number. Once I hit 40, the numbers lost their daunting prowess. Of course when I was much younger, I imagined my life to be at a different stage by now. No matter, I have learned to go with the flow.

Other things I’ve learned:

*Simple pleasures are what make me tick, and I never take them for granted.

*I have no tolerance for drama or BS, for the most part I have eliminated them from my life.

*Any day that I have a conversation with my niece is a fantastic day.

*There are times that you don’t necessarily like each member of your family but you always love them.

I’ll leave you with a couple favorite birthday quotes:

To me, old age is always fifteen years older than I am.
- Bernard M. Baruch
Middle age is when you've met so many people that every new person you meet reminds you of someone else.
- Ogden Nash
A birthday is just the first day of another 365-day journey around the sun. Enjoy the trip!
- Unknown

How Not to Make Friends and Influence People

The other night I had to pick up my parents from Reagan National Airport. My Father didn’t want to inconvenience me, so he told me to just drive up to the arrivals sidewalk and they would hop into to the car.

There were several flaws with his suggestion. First of all they are 80 years old, there is no hopping into anything. Secondly, they were returning from overseas. The possibility of their flight arriving on time AND my Father predicting what time they’d be on the sidewalk was impossible. Thirdly, we are in the post 911 era. You can not casually keep circling the arrivals area without causing a ruckus.

I tried to be the dutiful daughter. After my third pass of the arrivals area, 2 of the officers actually blocked my passage and sternly suggested I utilize the parking garage and go in and wait for my parental units. I told them I completely agreed with their advice and off I went to park my car.

Take it from me friends, just don’t listen to your folks. Park the car and wait for them inside. It will save you much hassle.

Make It Stop

For some reason I have this French nursery rhyme stuck in my head.

Alouette

All: Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai.

Leader: Je te plumerai la tete
All: Je te plumerai la tete
Leader: Et la tete
All: Et la tete
Leader: Alouette
All: Alouette oh, oh, oh, oh Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai.

Leader: Je te plumerai les yeux.
All: Je te plumerai les yeux
Leader: Et les yeux
All: Et les yeux, et la tete
Leader: Alouette
All: Alouette oh, oh, oh, oh Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai

I learned it as a child while living in Montreal. I cannot get rid of it.

Oh well, there are worse things to get stuck on I suppose. I am happy to share.