Gift Horse's Mouth

For the record, I have little or no expectation of receiving gifts, pretty much from anyone.  When I was a kid, my dad used to go on business trips and bring me back hotel soap. I genuinely appreciated the token of affection, however meager.  Today it's not much different:  I am genuinely touched when someone thinks of me, even when I don't necessarily understand the thought.

All of this brings me to last week, when I was in New York, and saw my aunt -- who gave me my "birthday present." For those who don't know, my birthday was in the fall, approximately six months ago.  And the present?  Let's just say that it consisted in part of my grandmother's underwear.

Okay, not exactly underwear.  Three half-slips.  Probably vintage.

I am certain that this chain of events was the result of my telling her that I needed something of the sort to wear under a sweaterdress.  In the winter.  And despite the weirdness of it all, it was genuinely quite lovely that my aunt remembered the conversation and then spent the time searching through my grandmother's drawers -- and drawers, ha ha -- to find them for me.

Which then, brings me back to my dad.  The other night, I told him about how, thanks to his sister, I was now in possession of his mother's delicates.  He didn't think it was quite so funny, and he was perplexed by my reaction.

"It's a good thing you think the whole thing is funny.  Personally, I'd be insulted if someone gave me used underwear for my birthday."

"Dad, at least it wasn't real underwear.  And besides, I'm just glad she thinks I'm as skinny as Grandma."

Bikinis, tattoos, and sarcasm

(Scene: A lovely tropical destination, where our brave and fearless heroine has been sent for work. She sits at a table on the patio of a resort hotel with her coworker, who is on his second or third rum drink. It is clear that she would rather be anywhere else, with just about anyone else.)

Coworker: There are a lot of women in bikinis here.
B&FH: Yes. We are at a beach resort.
Coworker: My wife says it's okay if I look, as long as I don't do anything else.
B&FH: Yeah, people say that.

(Several increasingly uncomfortable moments of Coworker commenting on the women of the resort as they pass by.)

Coworker: I don't understand why women get tattoos. It's trashy.
B&FH: Yeah, whatever.

(A few uncomfortable moments later.)

Coworker: Is that a tattoo on your wrist?
B&FH: Um, yeah. I generally keep it covered up.
Coworker: I don't know why you'd do something like that. I'd never let my daughters do anything like that.
B&FH: Well, I guess my dad wasn't paying enough attention.
Coworker: Looks like a star.
B&FH: Something like that.
Coworker: Why'd you do it?
B&FH: It was the only way I was ever going to be able to tell the difference between my right and my left.

Google Madness!

Rules of the Google Game: Go to Google and type in quotation marks your name and then "likes to" (ex. "Steve likes to"). Type in the first ten things that come up and re-post in your own note (or if you are smart, copy and past them!). You must tag the person that sent this to you.

1. Dara likes to go places and see things.
2. Dara likes to know about how Marty's Dad kills there food.
3. Dara likes to go shopping during off hours and is trying to talk to media in order to get ahead professionally.
4. Dara likes to crochet, knit, carve wood, raise Orchids as well as African Violets, and excels at breeding a better rabbit.
5. When she's not writing code, Dara likes to decode the messages of her teenage stepdaughter, and her two cats, Izabella Marie and a bad kitty who must remain anonymous.
6. Dara likes to practice yoga.
7. Dara likes to throw his clothes on his bedroom floor.
8. I mean dara likes to party u know.
9. Dara and I also have a website where Dara likes to put photos up, plus I have a Flickr page, and I publish news stories I find interesting via Google Reader.
10. I have mentioned before how Dara likes to thieve the cat biscuits out of the pantry.

Do not try this at home

I managed to get my taxes filed on Monday. Thank god for TurboTax. And Wesley Snipes.

Pot vs. kettle

This year, my brother did not find his Chrismanukah presents -- a pooping snowman candy dispenser and Dysfunctional Family Therapy Mad Libs -- particularly amusing.

Of course, this is the same boy that sent me this in an email.

Jokes that live on: The gift that keeps on giving

For a birthday, today was below average. I mean, it was a Tuesday, a work day. There was no yellow cake with chocolate frosting, and I didn't even go out to dinner.

For a work day, however, today was pretty good. I got a lot done, I got to watch some court, and, at the end of a long day, I had a good laugh.

The story is this: I have a coworker, a friend, who is somewhat absentminded. I've known him long enough to have several stories about him, but, until tonight, the best one happened on a case that we were both on, where he had locked documents in a briefcase and forgotten the combination -- which he did not discover until we were in the midst of a hearing. After some physical comedy (and a trip out into the hallway), he managed to open one side of the briefcase and pull the documents out through the side -- and we handed very crumpled exhibits up to the judge.

Today, at about 6:45 this evening, he called my cell phone for the travel agency's after-hours number, because he had left his hotel reservation in the office that he was working from, and had left his BlackBerry at home. Lucky for him, I was still in the office, and we decided that the quickest answer would be for me to log in to his email. So we did -- and it turned out that he had forgotten to make a hotel reservation when he booked his flights and rental car. He then confessed that, prior to calling me, he had argued with the hotel desk clerk because he thought the hotel lost his reservation.

So, I left the office with a smile on my face. Not just because the story was funny, but because the end result is a joke that will be told at work happy hours for years to come. Ultimately, this mocking will last well into the future. It's a gift for posterity.

Ba-dum-chhh

I left work early this afternoon to drive my sister to the airport. After I dropped her off, I drove back to work.

Sadly, her flight just took off 5 minutes ago. But at least we got to send somewhat amusing texts back and forth the entire time. Here's the best one:

Sister (9:13 pm): I'm still here. Maintenance issues on the plane. They don't expect us to take off until at least 9:30.
Me: I'm so sorry. Would it make you feel better to hear that I just got home from work and was stuck behind a marching band on the way?
Sister: Depending on what they were playing.

At least she kept her sense of humor about it.

My sister's funny story

This is allegedly a true story, and it is better out loud. I wish I had recorded my sister telling the damn thing. But I didn't, and it's funny -- so as the next best alternative, here it is in print:

My sister has two friends that work at a restaurant. And she hangs out with them at the bar, with the bartenders, all the time.

One of these times, there was a very drunk woman with a heavy southern accent trying to order a drink. The bartender didn't understand her, especially since she kept on asking for her drink with a "lahyme."

The bartender still couldn't figure it out, and started asking other people if they knew what she was talking about. The woman kept saying it over and over again, and no one could figure it out.

It was going nowhere until finally, she explained. "You know, a f-r-i-u-t."

This picture has nothing to do with this story, but it is pretty funny, too:

Stop it, you're killing me!

It was really only a matter of time until some media outlet ran this punny headline:

School of Pepperidge Farm goldfish

I hadn't taken a food picture in a really long time, but at lunch today, I couldn't help myself:

Synchronized coughing

Despite the fact that I'm a thousand miles away from my mom, we managed to have the exact same cold at the exact same time.* So, for the last week, our telephone conversations have been something like:

"{Cough}. Hold on, don't say anything important, I'm going to cough again."
"Okay. {Cough}."
"My neck hurts."
"I was just going to say that! And my knees, too."
"Your knees always hurt when you're sick. You should take some Tylenol."
"I have to go to the grocery store to buy more Tylenol Cold. But it's cold outside. And my nose won't stop running."
"You should try the NyQuil, it's much better."
"Yeah, but then I'll sleep for thirteen hours."
"When did that suddenly become a problem?"

Yesterday, though, the conversation took a comic turn:

"What does it mean when your temperature is only 95.1?"
"It means that you're dead. Either that, or your thermometer is broken."

*And, stranger still, as of this morning, my Nana is reporting a similar set of symptoms.

Punchline question

I'm trying to figure out the funnier twist to the story that a Florida absentee ballot was mailed with a rare stamp: Is it that 1) the law requires that it remain in a locked ballot box until it is destroyed; or 2) the idea that the stamp might be a fake?

Pictures of Food

So, is it wrong to take pictures of your food in a restaurant? Some people seem to think so.

I think it's fine -- especially if the pictures are funny. For example, inadvertent smiley faces:

Or when your sister eats a giant tiramisu with two giant spoons*:

I just wish I had kept the picture documenting the mysteriously yellow pancakes at the Metro 29 Diner.

Seriously, people. Relax, have a good time. Have some tiramisu.

*I know that I originally said I wasn't going to post this picture because she might kill me. But honestly, she lives 1000 miles away. Plus, it's funny. And I really don't care anymore.

Most importantly, I don't think she's reading my blog. So it's not like she'll see it. Unless, of course, my brother tells her about it. Which he won't. Right?

Insert witty comment here

According to Forbes, for the first time, all 400 of the richest people in the world are billionaires, not just regular ordinary old millionaires.

Originally, my punchline was going to be "I suppose that's why I didn't make the cut," but I've reconsidered.

In light of today's news, the appropriate joke is "But at least they can still afford to buy their coffee at Starbucks."



Carry on.