The News Roundup

Pardon me won't you while I cram about 15 days worth of blog posts into one. I'm all economical and shit like that these days.

1. I don't want to intrude on Some Guy's blog topic turf because, of all of the people in my particular section of blogland, he is the resident expert on documentary films, but I'm piping in with my 2 cents because in the past 10 days or so I've seen 2 terrific documentaries. I haven't noticed that he has mentioned them, so I feel compelled to step up. I figure since he didn't mention them that perhaps he hasn't seen them and they are both worth watching.

Joe Strummer: The Future is Unwritten (2006) - An intensive biography of Joe Strummer, narrated by Joe Strummer himself via old interviews and recordings from his radio show. Even if you are a only a marginal fan of Joe Strummer and/or The Clash it's a must see.

I Like Killing Flies (2004) - An unfortunately titled little film about a tiny hole-in-the-wall Greenwich Village diner called Shopsins. The diner, it's quirky owner and his family are a neighborhood institution. The title really turned me off and I almost didn't watch it (except I have that weird obsession with all things New York, so I decided to give it a shot), but I'm glad I did because the film is delightful. I loved this film, but I will never set foot in that restaurant man, no way. Kenny Shopsin can be one scary motherfucker. I'm from Ohio and far too delicate for that big city bullshit.

Both films are available on Netflix.

2. My contract has been extended until the end of July, after which time it can be extended no further and I shall be let go due to a corporate policy limiting contracts to a year and a half.

If I don't find permanent work soon come July I will be cast out like a bad penny. Wait, that sounds wrong. I've got some phrases mixed up. Cast out like a bad apple? No. I'm definitely a good apple, but I'll be cast out like... um...oh whatever - it sucks donkey dongs because I really like my job. So put that in your hat and smoke it.

3. I have applied for another position that has recently opened in my department. I know more about the competition this time so although I'm going to pull out all the stops I'm not going to get my hopes up quite so much as I did last time. It is very early in the process and I don't know yet if I will even be asked to interview, but I have begun campaigning. Hard. I need a new suit and all the trimmings (yeah shoes!).

4. I have informed the co-worker friend who bugged me every day and drove me so crazy when I applied for the other position a few months ago that I referred to her on this blog as a "nosy twat", that if she so much as lifts an eyebrow in my direction that seems remotely as though she wants to ask me if I've heard anything about the job that I will punch her right in the throat and never speak to her again.

OK. Not really.

Punching her in the throat is Plan B, but I did inform her of the new situation (figuring she'd hear about it from someone else and turns out she already knew that I applied. How? How?), reminded her of how much she upset me previously, told her that I did not wish to discuss it with her ever and asked her (nicely) not to attempt to bring up the subject with me. Ever.

5. MDH is in Indianapolis for the weekend for the college basketball thingy. I'm naturally beside myself with glee to have the house to myself for a few days. Here's a quick rundown of how I've spent my weekend so far.

Friday Night - total TV fest. I watched all the vagina shows that MDH hates so very much including a new series called Running In Heels, and a French subtitled movie called Toi et Moi (2006) about two sisters living in Paris and the all trials and tribulations of their vaginas. I had cold cereal for dinner. It was fabulous.

Saturday - Awoke at the crack of dawn, showered and tarted myself up for a successful day of serious suit shopping. The last mall of the day has a little take out Thai place that cooks the food from scratch while you wait. There are no heat lamps or sweating metal trays filled with simmering goop. No. They cook that shit right in front of you on a big Vulcan stove top with real pots and pans and utensils and everything.

I ordered a Green Chicken Curry and it was fantastique! Mwah! (Imagine I have just gathered all of the fingers on my right hand together into a point, brought them to my lips and blew a big kiss, a la cartoon chef.)

In the evening I talked to my best friend Amy on the phone for a very long time and afterwards blissfully played the Sims 2 without interruption until the wee hours of the morning. It was the kind of day that my dreams are made of.

Sunday - It's still happening so I really can't say for certain, but I envision something similiar to Friday except interspersed with laundry, bathroom cleaning activities and a Lindt chocolate bunny. Good times.

Into Each Life a Little Indoor Rain Must Fall

Our kitchen sink sprayer broke on Thanksgiving day at the climax of our cooking extravaganza, just before dinner was served. Dan and Stephanie had come all the way from Ohio to hang with us for the holiday. Steph and I spent a good part of the day in the kitchen cooking, chatting and having a great time.

We were almost ready to put dinner on the table when the little handle you press on got stuck and I couldn't turn it off so random, errant streams of uncontrolled water spouted from the nozzle and shot across the room every time I turned the water on, which on Thanksgiving day is quite frequently. Unfortunately when we discovered the problem Steph was in the path of the water stream and I soaked her pretty good.

It is quite shocking to be quietly minding your own business, chopping vegetables or what have you, indoors no less, and suddenly be drenched in cold water. More shocking still to look over at your friend you have driven 7 hours through horrible snowy weather to come and visit and see her holding a kitchen sink sprayer with streams of water shooting out of it, pointing it at your head.

I stunned her further by hitting her with a short blast of high pitched screaming. She stunned me by screaming back.

It's awfully difficult to try to investigate what might have gone wrong with a broken kitchen sprayer without squirting even more water everywhere and making a huge mess. I'm one of those people that has to learn by doing and I learned this: Do not look directly into the kitchen sprayer when you suspect it is broken or point it anywhere but back into the sink.

MDH, apparently unalarmed by all the screaming and arm flapping, finally came to the rescue when I demanded that he get up off of his ass and come help me. He took the thing apart and stopped the water from squirting out every time I turned on the tap, which left me with no sprayer for the kitchen sink and dammit I love that thing.

Yesterday after my job interview I went out to do a little shopping and my last stop before home was Lowe's to buy a new sprayer.

The whole point of this post when I originally thought of it had nothing to do with me spraying water all over my house guest and into my own face. But this is my blog and my brain and my stories can be as disjointed as I want.

The original point of the post was this: I hate shopping in Lowe's the same way my husband hates shopping at Target.

My Target Experience = His Lowe's Experience:
I look forward to shopping at Target/Lowe's. It's fun. I usually go with a specific shopping list, but end up meandering through the aisles looking at things we don't really need. I like to take my time and visit the end caps and see if there's anything good on clearance. I always come home with way more stuff than I intended to buy and tend spend way over budget.

My Lowe's Experience = His Target Experience:
I loathe shopping at Lowe's/Target and only go if my spouse makes me. I put off going as long as possible and when I finally get there I stomp into the store like a big sour puss, go to exactly where those items are, get them and march immediately to the checkout and leave as quickly as possible.