How are you today? I'm superfantastic.

Ladies and Gentlemen

Please join me in welcoming me to the twenty-first century.

Hello, lover.

I bought this today with the giftcard that I received as my quarterly bonus.  A giftcard to Walmart.  Understand that I consider Walmart to be one of the outer rings of hell.  So while the sensible thing to do would have been to use the giftcard for paper towels and shampoo from now until it ran out, this would have required multiple trips to Walmart.  Which is clearly not acceptable.  And iPod is so pretty!  How could I leave it there in that horrible place?  Welcome home, iPod.  You're safe now.

I would also like to point out that the Walmart guy who was checking me out ("checking me out" as in "Thank you for shopping at Walmart" not as in "Hey, baby.  How you doin'?") verified that I was in fact over the age of eighteen before he could sell me the Walmart brand Nyquil.  God bless you, Walmart guy.  Perhaps we'll meet again, just as soon as you get a job at Target.

Because it seemed time to post something

I am thinking that you would rather I didn't expound on my cold and how the cold medicine is making me feel as if there is a small weight sitting on the front of my brain.  Not in an "ow!" kind of way, but just enough to be distracting.  Or the random lower back pain that I am blaming on my crappy, crappy desk chair.

But perhaps you would also not like me to go on at full post length about the things currently making me happy, such as the total lack of runniness I've been experiencing in the past couple of hours or how I did my taxes last night and discovered that the Federal Government will be sending me a pile of money soon!  Yes, it is my own money to begin with, and yes, maybe "pile" is misleading, but it's darn near enough to pay my rent and I will thank Uncle Sam to return it to me in a timely manner.

So then I thought: a survey!  That doesn't require me to have done or thought anything particularly noteworthy or comical of late!  But what will I ask?  And then Katie's emails about getting through her current sickness through squishy white bread in the forms of French toast and grilled cheese made me think about comfort food and all of the little things that make life better.  So here it is:

-Name some favorite comfort foods.

-Name a song that makes you smile and turn up the volume.

-Is there a place that you go, a la Holly Golightly to Tiffany's, that makes you feel better just walking in the door and possibly you sigh with the renewed well-being of it all?

-Can you think of a silly or stupid thing that recently made you laugh?

-What are some random and assorted small things that make you happy?

I'll go first:

-Mashed potatoes.  Kraft Macaroni & Cheese.  Also bread in its many forms, most recently a sourdough breadbowl that I bought at the grocery store last night along with some really good soup.   Can't beat that.

-This morning it was Kiss by Prince.

-Libraries and bookstores.  Big ones.  Ahhhh...  (Target also has this effect for the first minute or two until it occurs to me that Target will suck my wallet dry with its discounted goodness.  Then the well-being sort of slowly drains.)

-The name Dr. Harry Sidebottom.  (If you are reading, Dr. Sidebottom, I apologize.  And giggle.)

-Getting the Final Jeopardy question right; writing a really good sentence; actual personal mail, whether of the e- or postal variety.

Now you go!  Seriously.  It's your turn.

The Sorry State of the State of the Union

The State of the State of the Union is: BOR-RING!

Everyone at NBC agreed after the speech that it was by far the most "somber" and "subdued" of the President's State of the Union addresses.  They speculated that this was due to the newly divided nature of the government and also to the mindblowingly horrific disaster that is the war in Iraq.

This really interfered with my plan for a recap post similar to last year's.  It is difficult to poke fun at somber and subdued.

But I am soldiering on.  This year, rather than a recap, I present these random and assorted observations:

What a welcome change it was to see a woman in the Speaker's chair!  The President even pointed out what a momentous occasion it was, which I thought was classy of him.  Then as the speech wore on, I thought that Nancy Pelosi was incredibly blinky until I realized that it only appeared so because she was sitting next to Dick Cheney.  He never blinks.  Seriously, watch him sometime.  It's spooky.

The new Speaker hopped up quite often to applaud, right up until the President charged the Senate with filling openings on the federal bench by giving every one of his nominees an up or down vote.  Then she remained seated and her face registered a definite "uh huh - riiiiiight".  She (unlike a certain Senator from New York) stopped short of actually sneering.

You can refer to last year's post for the specifics of the education section of the speech.  Seriously, it was exactly the same thing.

Quite honestly, the extent to which I can stand to listen to the President didn't really allow me to gather all of the particulars on his health care proposal.  But it seemed like he wanted to tax employers who provide health insurance in order to provide a tax break to people who buy their own health insurance.  Doesn't this seem likely to end up with all of us having to buy our own health insurance once employers stop buying it for us in order to avoid paying more taxes?  Maybe I'm missing something here.  Such as the logic.

It was convenient how Senators Clinton and Obama were seated one behind the other so they could get them into one shot for all of the important reactions.  Then we'd see Senator McCain, who is looking scarily pasty these days.  Almost like he has been hanging with Cheney in the undisclosed location, where for obvious reasons, no sunlight is permitted in.  Or crosses or garlic.

Did you see the shot of Condoleeza Rice giving the camera a look of what can only be described as pure unadulterated hate?  Yikes.  Then again, maybe it wasn't the camera she was looking at.  Perhaps that gaze was directed just over the President's left shoulder.  Look out, Madam Speaker.  I have a feeling that it's ON.

And did you hear that gigantic whoosh around 8:30?  That would be the entire world sucking in its collective breath upon the President's mention of Iran.  But he also mentioned balancing the budget without raising taxes, so clearly he couldn't possibly want to expand our military efforts.  Right?

The "giddy as a schoolgirl" award goes to Senator Grassley of Iowa upon the President's commitment to increase usage of ethanol.  Gimme a C, gimme an O, gimme an R, gimme an N!  What does that spell?  RE-ELECTION!

Then we got to the honored guests in the gallery.  The President introduced Dikembe Mutombo, followed by the founder of Baby Einstein.  Which was decent of him, particularly since she had clearly missed the entirety of the speech, seated as she was behind Dikembe Mutombo.

The speech was followed as always by the opposite party's response.  For the second year in a row, it was given by a Virginia politician.  (Virginia is for lovers Democratic responders!)  This year, brand new Senator Jim Webb.  He stressed his family's military service, including that of his son, currently serving in Iraq.  Then he proceeded to say of the war in Iraq, in no uncertain terms, I TOLD YOU SO AND EVERYBODY ELSE ALSO TOLD YOU SO.  It was a thing to behold.

In conclusion, the State of the Union (aside from Iowa) would appear to be: cranky.  Or is it just me?

Can hopscotch be far behind?

After roughly six straight hours of football viewing tonight, I decided to take a break and have a go at the new workout plan that Amy and I had decided to try.

Yes, I pulled my car out of the garage and jumped rope.  See, our friend Fancy Doug had been explaining that jumping rope is a very efficient way to burn calories.  We thought this sounded good, so on one of my almost-daily trips to Target, I went ahead and picked up some jump ropes for us.  And back when the Colts-Patriots games was looking boring and one-sided (who knew the second half would get so good?) I thought I'd give it a whirl.

For the first minute or two, I had a little trouble.  Is it possible that I have forgotten how to jump rope, I wondered.  Then it came back to me and I felt just like a kid again.  I could almost see my young self out in the driveway with my pink plastic jump rope that through much use had turned black in the middle, courtesy of our blacktop driveway.  This lasted a few minutes.  Then I felt very much not like a kid again.  I felt every bit of my age and out-of-shapeness.  I discovered an alarming truth:

Jumping rope kicks my ass.

I'm not kidding you.  It is tiring.  I had to force myself to slow down so as not to have to quit only a few minutes in.  Which is just sad.  This was so easy as a kid.  I cannot remember ever getting winded from jumping rope.  Of course, I have not attempted to do so in probably fifteen to twenty years now.  Yikes, that sentence makes me sound old.

But remember when we did stuff like this purely for fun?  As a kid, I'd just go and jump rope because it sounded like a good idea and I'd keep going at will until something more fun came along or it was dinner time or my brother came up with some ill-advised scheme that involved risking my personal safety for his amusement.  I don't remember ever having to quit because I was tired.

So this is my plan: I will jump rope as a workout until it becomes easy enough to be a fun leisure-time activity.  This will probably be never.  If you need me, I'll be in the garage.

Also, I feel the need to smugly point out that when my dad asked me at the beginning of the season who was going to make it to the Superbowl, I picked the Bears and Colts.  He calmly explained to me why I was wrong.  So now I am taking this opportunity to say "ha!"  Please notice how I have refrained from using the phrase "I told you so".  Thank you.

Give it away, give it away, give it away now.

Last Saturday was the Second Annual Post-Christmas Regifting Party.  Once again, there were some craptastic gifts to be had.  Let's start with mine, shall we?  I received this:

Yes, an entire CD of the Macarena!  It is non stop, people!  Eight entire versions of the Macarena.  And can you read there in the yellow where it says that it contains the longest version of the Macarena?  Because if you're anything like me, all of these years you have been thinking if only the Macarena were darn near eight minutes in length!  Now, my friends, that dream has become a reality.

But the hits just keep on coming!  If you read this post, then you know that Jenny had a spare wedding dress lying around, which she included with several other lovely items in the gift bag that she offered.  Seeing as how Amy just got engaged, she was very excited to try it on.  All set for your wedding, Amy!

The rest of the more, eh...interesting gifts of the evening shared a common theme.  I bring you the religious regifts of 2007:

Yes, that's right.  This candle has the aroma of Christ.  How does Christ smell, Blake?

Yikes!  Perhaps when it comes to religious gifts, it's better to stick with a nice action figure.  I suspect you can have this one when you pry it from Matt's cold dead hands.

It even comes complete with stats.  Moses had a terrible ERA.

And finally, a little light reading for Melissa:

Oh, comically bad gifts, how you never cease to entertain us!  And what did I regift?  I'll never tell.

In which I shamelessly rip off your ideas.

So, some of you actually told me things you'd like me to write about and/or things you do or do not like in a blog.  Some of these I am sorry to tell you I cannot do.  Jennifer says she likes "I write about my feelings" blogs.  Sorry, Jennifer.  We here at Superfantastic have no feelings that we are aware of and certainly not any that we are willing to acknowledge in front of people.  You'll have to go elsewhere for any of that touchy feely hoo-ha.

But One Smart Cookie asked about Texas.  And there are things to say about Texas.  I have lived here for three years now and it still freaks me out every once in a while when I find myself thinking I live in Texas!  How did this happen?  Pretty shortly after I moved here, a twenty-something Texas native told me that she believed in all seriousness that everyone not from Texas wished they were from Texas.  Yikes.  With the possible exception of New Yorkers, you will never find a people so proud of where they're from as Texans.  Growing up, my sister and I had a theory that there was a law on the books here requiring each household to display at least one decorative item in the shape of Texas.  (Amy and I are in flagrant violation of this law.  Don't tell.)

As far as the Everything's Bigger in Texas, this is in many cases true.  Cars are bigger in Texas.  Because mostly they are trucks and SUVs.  People are bigger in Texas, except in Austin where everyone runs or bikes or plays with dogs or runs along side their dogs as they bike or whatever.  Even dogs are bigger in Texas.  Dogs are so big here that in Texas, these are considered purse dogs:

 

(See how I even cleverly worked in the puppy pictures that you asked for?)

BREAKING NEWS: We interrupt this post to bring you coverage of:

(Graphic courtesy of KXAN)  Winter is not bigger in Texas.  This year, winter looks primed to last almost five days.  Winter freak out though, is HUGE in Texas!  Not quite so funny this year since the entire Austin area having turned into one solid sheet of ice is in fact a real problem, worthy of closing schools and even giving me the afternoon off yesterday and the entire day off today and tomorrow morning as well.  Amy and I were just laughing at the news though when they reported that the wind chill was 19, "too cold for playing outside!"  Right.  I'm pretty sure we played outside anytime it was above zero.  But, unlike Austin's children, we had the snowsuits for it.  We did not go outside and play today, but I did brave the 19 degree weather to take some pictures.

Snow!

And finally, Diane asked about pet peeves.  I do have one or two of these.  Some I covered in this post, but I'm pretty sure I can come up with more.  Seeing as how I recently mentioned Incessantly Humming Coworker, I may as well mention that people humming, whistling, or singing something that in no way resembles any sort of actual song makes me a little crazy.  As do tags in the sides of shirts (at the collar or not at all, clothing manufacturers!), drivers who pass you only to cut you off and then slow down, and the concept of skinny jeans.  We're going back to tapered ankles?  Why?  And on a grammatical note (what, you didn't see that coming?) we have my current least favorites, "these ones", "those ones", and "the girl that..."  Girls are people.  A person is a who, not a that.  Yes, it's nitpicky.  And it bothers me.

I think that pretty well covers your requests, except for more job misadventures and it looks like there won't be any more of those until at least noon tomorrow.   Weather permitting.

Keeping the Customer Satisfied

Remember: you're the ones who asked for more photos.

Borrowed red dress: $0

Gold toe socks: $3

Hair: $75

Deciding to go ahead and post that photo you took just in case you decided to tell the Internet about how you stuffed your bra with socks rather than pay to have your dress altered: idiotic priceless

Fashionably Late. Oh heck, who am I kidding, just late.

So apparently it is National Delurking Week.  I am hopping right on this for the entire last two days.  Which is more than you got last year, so don't come crying to me with your "why are you such a huge procrastinator, Lori?" business.

In order to avoid a pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease comment type of post, I thought a short survey was in order.  This way, you don't even have to BE a lurker in order to comment.  But if you are a lurker, you are REQUIRED to comment.  Or else I'll...continue to wonder why so many of you lurk.  Ok, clearly I have no real authority here.  But if you don't comment and I find out who you are, I will absolutely give you my sternest teacher face.

On to business:

1. If you didn't already know me before I started this blog, then how the heck did you get here in the first place?  (If you are new as a result of Emily's link, welcome!  And sheesh, Emily, the stats!  Thanks for not forgetting us little people now that you are a huge Internet rock star.)
2. What would you like to see more of here?
3. What would you like to see less of here?  (For example, photos of me first thing in the morning - what on earth was I thinking?)
4. Do you feel that I need to put up a new official photo now that I have much, much less hair?
5. Are there any topics that you feel are needing the Superfantastic treatment?  (This should not be seen as a desperate ploy for post ideas since I have one entire post after this one all planned!  Which is WAY ahead of usual.)
6. What, in your opinion, makes a good blog good or a bad blog bad?
7. Anything else you want to tell me about you, your reading of this blog or blogs in general, your excuses for being a lurker, your motivation for commenting, or really anything else?

Vegas, baby! Shibuya!

We arrived in Vegas Thursday night, immediately greeted on the way to our hotel room by two drunk guys shouting "Hello, hot chicks!"  We felt sure that we would enjoy our stay here.

Then, Friday morning, the two Hollys met.

The space-time continuum was not disrupted, so we celebrated with sightseeing and overpriced Starbucks.  That night there was a wedding rehearsal which was blessedly short as it was outdoors in the 20-something windchill.  Afterward we ate and drank.  And drank.  And possibly sent some text messages.  Oops!

Saturday was the wedding.  So I got my hair done.

It cost $75 and so let us look at it from another angle.

I think, for that price, we should all keep on admiring it.

Then Holly and Adam got married.  And ate cake.

 

After the reception, we changed clothes and went to the Big Apple Bar at New York, New York. 

 

Where the waitress asked me, despite the fact that I was sitting between two girls, whether I was the one who got married.  Then she carded me.  Apparently I appeared to be some sort of child bride who was in a pretty good mood after having been already deserted by her brand new husband.

Drinky

Drink

Drunk

Then, no longer minding about the cold, we walked to the Bellagio to see the fountain.

On the way back to New York, New York, I fell directly on my ass.  Holly and I were walking arm in arm at the time, so either I am a kind drunk and let go of her or she is a mean one and let go of me.  Not only were the red apple martinis interfering with my already subpar coordination skills, I was wearing irresponsible shoes and there was water on the sidewalk and one of those Slippery When Wet cones.  Normally this would have been a little humiliating, but there on the Strip I think it just really made me fit in.  So no harm done to my pride but I think I may have cracked my tailbone.  It didn't hurt until late the next day, but then it sure did make the two and a half hour plane ride less fun than it otherwise might have been.

Then back at our hotel, we watched The Dynamite Band.

 

Which was truly hilarious.  The Violent Femmes a la Kip.  Madonna as performed by Deb.  Good times.  Sadly, you can't see Deb's fanny pack in that photo or really see Napoleon on drums at all. 

When I woke up Sunday morning, I discovered that the $75 hair had not moved.  Naturally, I documented this for you.

While I am apparently not quite awake enough to be bothered with opening both eyes all the way, there is obviously no hangover.  Amy thinks it has to do with the extra oxygen pumped into the casinos, but I think I finally just learned my damn lesson about drinking enough water.  Either way, yay!

After removing 38 bobby pins and using an entire bottle of hotel shampoo, I was back to regular hair in time for sight-seeing.  SA roommate Holly and I visited many hotels on the Strip, including the MGM Grand, where we discovered a restaurant bearing the name that is our new favorite exclamation.

Shibuya!

That evening, we returned to our hotel for dinner before leaving for the airport.  We decided, what the hell, we would have steak since really what was a few more dollars and a little more cholesterol at that point.  We had spent the weekend discovering what the Vegas slogan really ought to be: What happens in Vegas stays ON YOUR ASS.  Seeing as how we had only each gambled $1 (we lost), the bulk of our Vegas experience revolved around empty calories.  Apparently we still looked good enough for the drunk men of the Orleans casino, judging by my favorite pick-up line of the weekend: "Hey!  I'm single!"  Can't imagine why, drunk guy, with smooth lines like that.

Then we came home. 

The end Shibuya!

What do you want from me, people? Transitions? Coherence? A theme? I THINK NOT!

I'm coming to you today from home on my lunch break since people at work keep interrupting me with their "tasks" and their "work-related items" and their "stuff for Lori to do".  I know!  THE HUMANITY!  There is so much to do because I am taking tomorrow off.  Yes, after ten days of lounging and a brutal three day work week, I'm taking tomorrow off since I leave tonight for Las Vegas!  I sent an email to everyone who needs to know that I'll be gone and got a few "have fun!" responses and one BUT WHO WILL ORDER OUR BREAKFAST AND LUNCH CATERING?  WHAT WILL BECOME OF US? phone call.  In case you are concerned, I have ordered the catering ahead of time.  No one will starve in my absence.

So, my car battery died last night.  Thanks to Work Friend Raul, I was able to get to Autozone to purchase a new one.  Before attaching the jumper cables, Raul first cleaned the corrosion off by pouring a Coke on it which did in fact eat the crud off on contact.  Which really ought to make us all think twice about our soda consumption.  And by "us all" I obviously mean "the rest of you people" because give up the free Diet Dr. Pepper?  HELL NO!  The interesting thing has been that the new battery seems to have fixed my CD player.  A while back, it quit remembering where it was when it stopped and would always just start back at the beginning.  This was getting a little bit irritating.  Not irritating on the scale of, say, Incessantly Humming Coworker, but definitely in the neighborhood of a persistent eyelid twitch.  But no more!  Now, when I start my car, I'm right where I left off!  Oh, the relief.

Next, I present What I Did Not Do on my Christmas Vacation: a report by Lori Graham, age 29 24.  Seeing as how I was mostly having loungy time over my break and not having to be anywhere in the morning, I was staying up late a lot.  And I saw A LOT of commercials for various call in lines, mostly promising local women.  These tended to feature a girl in a midriff-baring top laying around her apartment talking about how much she loved calling this line and meeting great people.  She could go out, but why?  She'd rather stay in and talk to hot local singles.  But my favorite was one featuring three women, apparently roommates, who are trying to figure out what to do with their evening.  A night on the town?  Perhaps a naked tickle-fight in the living room?  After all, they're half-naked already!  But no, they will call this line they've called before because the guys who came over last time were so hot!  They were going to call again and they hoped that the guys would be as hot as the last ones.  And when they got to the door, they were!  Katie has proposed that we experiment with this the next time we're in the same city just to see what will happen.  I have my doubts about the wisdom of that plan.

Ooh, and there is my new favorite Google Ad.  This one for some sort of WebMD knock-off said: "Third Trimester Pregnancy: Symptoms, Causes, and Treatments of Third Trimester Pregnancy".  (Yes, I did write it down so I could remember it for you people.  YOU'RE WELCOME.)  Now, I'm not a "medical professional" but I'm thinking that the cause of third trimester pregnancy is pretty much the same as the cause of first and second trimester pregnancy.  Do we have a doctor in the house?

And finally, the exciting news that you've all been waiting for: I'm leaving tonight for Vegas!  Wait, did I already say that?  See, I am going to be a bridesmaid in my former roommate Holly's wedding there.  And I am taking, as my travel companion/drinking buddy/wedding date, my former roommate Holly.  Confused?  Let me help.  My former DC roommate Holly is a blonde, blue-eyed teacher.  My former San Antonio roommate Holly is a blonde, blue-eyed teacher.  Got it?  No, I kid!  Here is some clarification:

DC roommate Holly has put me in serious danger on several occasions of peeing my pants with laughter.  Such as once when we were in the midst of a workday rubber band war (what, you don't have these in your office?) and I thought I'd just shoot over the cube wall in a downward fashion, not realizing that Holly, not a tall woman, was standing right there.  I heard a shriek and when I got to her cube, she was on the floor convulsing.  Fortunately I had not, in fact, shot her eye out and Holly being the outstanding gal that she is, was laughing, not crying and pointing to a perfect red oval on her forehead where the rubber band had left its likeness.  I nearly died laughing.  Seriously, I was going toward the light.

On the other hand, SA roommate Holly really, really cracks me up.  (In a real and true contrast, I don't think I have ever nearly killed SA roommate Holly, to the best of my recollection.)  She has also introduced several new phrases to my lexicon such as her little Mammie's "no bigger than a minute" and the you're funny/you make me laugh combo that came out "you make me funny" which I now say with regularity and don't give me strange looks about it anymore because now you know good and well where it came from.  It was together that we discovered the hilarity that is Passions, the greatest soap of all time.  We also may have done tequila shots together out of a shot-glass-shaped kitchen measuring cup, but I am unable really to confirm or deny that for you, the Internet.

DC roommate Holly and I danced together on our coffee table while SA roommate Holly and I regularly sang together in her car.  I am equally awesome at both dancing and singing, in case you were wondering.  I am available with one Holly or another for your go-go dancer and/or lounge act needs.

Gah!  This has gotten so long that I cannot even bring myself to read back through it or attempt to fix this wonky formatting.  Because when I said I had ordered the catering ahead of time, what I meant was that I was going to order the catering ahead of time.  So there is that to do.  And packing!  Because unless your definition of packing includes having taken the suitcase out of the closet, then I have not yet begun to pack.

Have a great weekend everybody!  Pictures and stories (as allowed by "what happens in Vegas..." law) next week!

I nearly forgot to mention that I discovered via my referrers page that if you google "drunken embarrassment" I am apparently the eighth site you'll find.  Awesome!  And I haven't even been to Vegas yet!

Be it hereby resolved...

In the year 2007, I resolve:

• yet again, not to stab anyone.  So far, so good!
• to also keep up with the no divorces resolution from last year.  Fortunately, it seems easy enough to get any drunken Vegas marriages annulled, so no worries this weekend.
• to start eating better.  Just as soon as these dark chocolate chocolates are gone.
• not to shout obscenities at the television during any football games, right up until the Packers' first game of the next season.
• that no matter how superawesome they may look in the commercials, I will not see any movies starring Justin Timberlake.
• to assemble a team and begin training in earnest for a run at representing the US in curling at 2010 Olympics.
• in an effort to combat the formation of fine lines and wrinkles, absolutely no more facial expressions.
• to spend more time on airplanes.  This resolution sets the bar pretty low since in 2006 I spent absolutely no time whatsoever on airplanes.  Which obviously is unacceptable.
• no more bathroom related posts.  Unless I think of something really funny.
• to encourage those around me to show their patriotism through blind, unquestioning support of our President.  Ha!  Wouldn't it be crazy if I were actually like that?
• not to turn off my alarm and go back to sleep for half an hour on a work day.  (Too late.)

And you?