Showing posts from November, 2007

Christmas memories, vol 13

My company in the states is a touchy feely kind of place. Not in the pervy sense...that goes against their mutual respect policy...but in a warm fuzzy happy family way. The founder is very Catholic, so company holidays revolve around Christmas and Easter, and there is much emphasis on good clean family living . For example, before Thanksgiving there used to be a bit of a prayer over the loud-speaker on Wednesday before we were sent off to "spend quality time with our families." We got the same speech on the last working day before Christmas Eve (a holiday) and the Thursday before Good Friday (also a holiday). The first few years I worked there all employees were given two things for Christmas. The first was a frozen turkey. These were never handed out until at least noon. I mean, they wouldn't want you having your turkey too soon in the day because it might be a distraction. (Though what exactly they thought we'd be doing with a frozen turkey beats me.) Each

Christmas memories, vol 12

It's that time of year! Time for you to listen to me tell you stories of the many delightful things that roam my mind at Christmas. We'll start you out slow, not with a poignant yet funny vignette, but with a general list of some things I love about the holiday season. How about 12 things, both because this is the twelfth installment in the series and because there's that one song about the french hens and milking maids (which I love to hate, though the Bob and Doug McKenzie version rocks.) 1. The smell of those holiday scented candles - not cheap ones from Walmart or even Target, but proper expensive Christmas scented candles from those Partylights people or Bibelot et al . 2. Christmas music. All of it. Heck, I'll even throw in the Dradle song. I love Christmas music almost as much as I love Christmas lights . 3. Finding the perfect parking space at Target on a busy Saturday. Talk about the holy grail. 4. Holiday sweaters. Mind you, I wouldn't wear one, n

Thin line between love and hate

MnMom has tagged me to list 10 things that make me want to smack someone in the head. 1. Skinny girls who talk about how fat they are and refuse to eat like a normal person. 2. Drunks who hit on me. 3. Adults who are such picky eaters that they can't just make do with what they're served. You're not five...just remove the damn tomato from your hamburger and move on. 4. People who pass me on the motorway and then once they're settled in front of me, they go just slow enough that I have to reduce my cruise speed or pass them. 5. Men who walk with their hands in their pockets, or who stand with their hands in their pockets and exhibit incredibly bad posture. In fact, I hate all bad posture full stop. 6. People who don't wash their hands after using the lavatory. That is seriously disgusting. 7. Sanctimonious parents who think that they know more than I do because they have kids. Ditto for people who think they know more because they're married. Come live my li

Mindy's List

I don't want to put these back in storage. They're in Minneapolis, and they're from Room & Board, and they're incredibly comfortable. They need a good home, either as a babysitter to take good care of them until I move back to the states, or for a reasonable price to just make them your own. Oh. and the sofa is filled with down, which means that if you're allergic to it you should leave it alone.

my day

Today was a sad day because my housemate had to put one of her dogs to sleep because it was full of cancer...wasn't diagnosed until this morning and it was too far gone for help. Very sad. I took off work early and drove her to the vet, and stayed with her while she was saying goodbye. We came home and I filled her with wine and made my mom's vegetable beef soup from last night's roast as a way for comfort food. I wish I could do more.

Executive MBA 2006-07 Director's Prize

This prize is awarded to the Executive MBA student who is judged by his or her peers to have contributed most to the overall success of the programme. Awarded to: Me I'm really happy about this - I've been the stream rep between the administration and my fellow students, which is the primary reason I've won this...I've managed a lot of situations and helped sort out problems, and while it's been a bit of work it's also been quite fun. I've got all sorts of thoughts and feelings, and in about an hour I'm calling my mom to hear about Thanksgiving with my brother and to tell her the news, but the over-riding reflection I have is this. My dad would be very, very proud. This would have made his day.

10 songs I never want to hear again

MichaelG has tagged me to list 10 songs I never, ever want to hear again. Child's play, I tell you. 1. You're Beautiful by James Blunt - you freaky stalky little weirdo. 2. Wildfire by Michael Martin Murphy- what a stupid song. So what if the girl and the horse die? I hate horses, and frankly, when I think back to teen girls with horsey love I hated them, too. I mean, how obvious is that? I say good riddance. I'd take Seasons in the Sun over this one. At least Terry Jacks is about humans. 3. Don't Cha (Wish Your Baby Was Hot Like Me) - Shut up you stupid Pussycat Dolls. 4. Light my Fire by the Doors - "liar" is not pronounced " li - yah ", and I don't really care for organ music 5. In the Name of Love by U2 - you've had once more, Bono . Give it a rest. 6. Centerfield - Fogerty , your whiney falsetto pisses me off 7. Boys of Summer - same to you, Henley 8. Anything Madonna has issued since Ray of Light - just stay at home and take car

Dirty little secret

I hate Neil Young. Seriously. Hate him. It's his voice, I think. It gives me a headache. But when I hear other people doing his music I realise that I'm not being fair. He's a talented one, that Neil.


Today I caught myself saying: - PROH-cess - SHHeh-dual - fortnight - Thursday next Crickey. I've been here for three years and it's finally starting to rub off on me. I even called someone "missus," not as in Mrs. followed by a surname...just "missus". Would girly-girl or miss-thang be better? I'm so confused.

Taking a break

I am 1000 words into our MSI report. I have a total responsibility for 4000 of it, which isn't so bad. Of course, I have to write the literature review and methodology sections which are dull as dirt, so you'll have to excuse me if I am having difficulty paying attention. The 1000 I have written are in that section, which means I'm halfway through and then things start to get more interesting. Hooray. It snowed last night. Like an inch. In true England style it was melted by the time I got up to go to work, but it never snows here in November so it feels like winter is upon us. Just to add a bit of festivity to my mood I've added some Christmas tunes to the iPod , so when Sleigh Ride starts playing or I hear Santa Baby I am reminded that I will be home in a month. This has been the shortest autumn on record. By next week you'll be getting Christmas memories and more pictures of me as a chubby kid. I mean, what are the holidays without eggnog lattes, mince pie

Guest blog - Mama Gin files

Dear Gentle Readers of Melinda June, Min has generously offered to host this week's episode of "The Mama Gin Files." I was unable to post it on the front page of Coaster Punchman's World for fear of retribution by Poor George, who forbade me from publishing the video. However, since the trials and tribulations of living with Mama Gin is my story too I feel altogether entitled --- at least as long as I don't get caught. Click here to experience Poor George trying to practice his bass clarinet in the face of Mama Gin's daily dose of harassment. Google Video has been acting really weird lately, so it may take several clicks on the "play" button before you actually get to see the video. (It might tell you it's "unavailable" a bunch of times - something Google is trying to iron out.) And if you aren't amused by crazy Chinese ladies harassing their gay sons, there are also some cute cats in the video. Maybe that will make up fo

Oh well

After your resounding advice, I consented to having a drink. He beamed. He told me I looked lovely, and he paid. I'm still just not that interested. Sadly, I'd like to be the sort who has a handsome younger man on my arm, but this is not the one. I find him dull. Dull is not sexy. Oh well.

Trophy boyfriend option

I'm 41. I'm a few weeks shy of having an MBA and a few months shy of a fancy new job. I'm smart, I'm arty, and I read a lot. And now I have a new admirer and he's 26 and he's handsome but not that bright and his major interests (aside from me) are the footie and beer (in quantity). I've always preferred my men smart, even geeky. They have wicked senses of humour and know lots of things about lots of things and they read books and see movies that don't necessarily have Bruce Willis or Mel Gibson in them and can occasionally play all seven tiles in a game of Scrabble. But those aren't the ones admiring me. Little British Jethro is. Those guys are married or seem to be looking for someone that's decidedly not me. LBJ blushes when he talks to me and thinks I'm fascinating. If I were a guy, I would mercilessly ridicule me. But I could do with a night out and a little attention. What's a girl to do?

I can has cheezburger

I spend a lot of time here while avoiding working on my papers. I usually laugh a lot, which is better than writing papers because that isn't fun at all right now.


Movies warn you about sex, language, adult situations and violence. None of these do me any good, as I don't really care if a movie contains these things. I do, however, think they should also offer a "D" rating that warns unsuspecting film goers that the movie contains poignant death scenes of characters losing loved ones to debilitating or long-term illnesses. I was watching a movie called Wah Wah last night, which was moving but good, and told the story of actor Richard E. Grant (best known to American audiences for vaguely villain-like roles in Masterpiece Theater episodes or Gosford Park. ) There's an abusive father, an adulterous mother, a wacky new wife who helps turn the father around, and a young boy trying to grow up in Swaziland about the time the British turned it back to its people. All good. And then the father starts dying of brain cancer, and they're all sitting by his bed as he withers away and tries to let them know that he loves them an

Lazy Sunday morning

Ah, Sunday. Not sure why it sounds like Hips Don't Lie is coming out of my iPod , but never mind. It's Sunday and I slept until 10 and made soft boiled eggs and soldiers for breakfast and have finished my second cup of coffee, so all is right with the world. Sorry I haven't been around much this week. It had nothing to do with my head bang and more to do with the fact that I was simply too busy and tired, and preferred surfing to writing when I was online. Work has exploded...we have something like 30 active proposals on my team of 3 full time and 3 part time people, and since our capacity at full staff is 20 and we have one person on holiday you can imagine my consternation. That, combined with my final three weeks of MBA work and trying to find my stuff amid my still packed boxes and a genuine desire to get some rest so any minor damage from my tumble could heal have made this a less than pleasant week. I had two big accomplishments this week. 1) I turned in my Glo

Checking in

Don't have time to write today, but in case you thought my silence was related to my injury I figured I'd better update you. Those of you who've joked about me having a thick skull were apparently much more correct than you knew. I'm just fine.


I'm not so coordinated in the morning. Today, I lost my footing on the steps and went careening headfirst into a wall. I was trying desperately to regain my balance, and had my head tipped back so I hit first with the bottom of my chin, scraping the underside of it and slamming my upper front tooth well into the flesh of my inner bottom lip. In a split second my forehead followed, smacking dead center into the wall with a little nose-slam follow-through to boot. I don't really have a headache but I look like a unicorn, eating or drinking is painful, and my right knee and my left shoulder sustained some sort of strain, as well. I can move around just fine, though, and while I'm sure I won't feel great tomorrow there is no nausea, forgetfulness or other symptom of concussion so I think I'll live. That said, I had serious trouble buttering my seemed like a minor depth perception thing. But I figure that since I just wrote a 1500 word paper maybe it was j

Old vs. new, or why being a housemate isn't all bad

Old Friday Night: Leave work at 7pm or so. Go to the grocery store for something to make for dinner, end up going home with some snack that you shouldn't have. Watch Eastenders. Make a cocktail. Make dinner. Eat. Half-heartedly work on a paper. I mean, you're busy and all, but it's Friday night. Mostly you surf the internet and watch Ugly Betty. Fall asleep watching Jonathan Ross and make catty remarks about Girls Aloud and how stupid Gordon Ramsey's boots are. Go upstairs and get into bed, but now you can't sleep, so you toss and turn and then drift off around 2. New Friday Night: Leave work by 6 because you have plans. Go pick up housemate, go to Ikea and walk around looking at things. Buy a chair and a throw and a few necessary household items you weren't planning on (this time some pretty little juice glasses.) Go to local Chinese restaurant for some delicious food and conversation. Go home to watch Ugly Betty. Unload car during commercials. After UB finish