If You Can't Say Something Nice...
Say Something Vague

Every day on our freeways, I 'meet' more and more fascinating people who express themselves through their license plate/frame. Today's fave: Chess Players Make The Best Mates. Aaaahhhh.

SO, it never ceases to amaze me how people on reality shows whine and complain when the show turns out exactly the way as billed. Like the chick with the guys in the masks. She knew going in that the guys would be wearing masks the whole time. But she complains that she doesn't get to know what they look like until they're kicked off, and then she comments on their looks! Hel-lo! Can we say 'Missing the Point Entirely?' Or the women on The Bachelor that get all mad when he flirts with all of the other 19 girls. Um, which part did you not understand about him dating ALL of you? If you wanted a one-on-one relationship, you might not have wanted to go on this kind of show!

And now, on Manor House. When the volunteers to work as the servants at Manderston were interviewed they were told point-blank that they would work about 16 hours a day. That it would be incredibly dirty and uncomfortable. That they wouldn't have any privacy, or be allowed to address the Master and Mistress. So what did they do last night? That's right, complain about these very things. They had a servants revolt. "We want time off," "Our days are too long," "We don't have any privacy," "The Master and Mistress are so rude; they don't even acknowledge me!"

Yeah. You might recall that this is set in an Edwardian manor in freakin' 1905. This stuff would be par for the course! Bunch o' whiners! Don't get me wrong, I'm still way into it. But the stupidity of people just continues to amaze me...

Oh so much to post today!

First, I want to thank my good friends Ryan and Jenny for making it possible for me to have comments on my site now. I am a teensy bit coding-challenged, and they both took time out of their busy schedules to figure out what the @#$%&* I did to my template. So you can all send your thanks to them if you ever felt inclined to comment to me and were flummoxed by the inability to do so.

Okay, so I take back all of the nasty things that I've said about reality TV. Well, not ALL of them, but some. I am so onboard with this new reality show that debuted last night. As most of you know, I am a bit of an anglophile (which is sometimes misrepresented as a geek). I am a lover of Manor House on PBS. I love it! To find out more about the premise of the show click here. But in a nutshell, it's about the upstairs/downstairs domestic battles of an Edwardian manor house in the 1905 English countryside. It's a show where you can hear 21st century folks remark on the social mores of turn-of-the-century England with such perceptive comments as: "It's hilarious that they've got these trussed up idiots following them around with trays full of crap which some mad French chef has cooked for them." (And believe you me, Msr. Dubiard is mad. He also looks a bit like Mr. Bean after Slim Fast.) This is my kinda show, baby!! I bet Amanda is going to want to check out this puppy!

Next, on the personal good news front, Jason got a letter yesterday that he has officially been accepted to the nursing program through Long Beach Memorial Medical Center. The hospital will pay for all of his training in exchange for his commitment to work for them for two years following graduation. Yea!

By far the only bright spot to come out of this whole Iraq debacle is the rise to fame of Mohammad Said Al-Sahhaf, a.k.a. Baghdad Bob. I'm certainly not the first to comment on how spectacular this guy is (I know, for instance, that Ryan has discused him on his blog; Tom Brokaw even brought it up when he interviewed GWB). Neither will I be the last, I'm sure. But I just had to share this fabulous piece of news from FoxNews. Apparently an Egyptian lawyer is suing Al-Sahhaf for misrepresenting the facts. (NO! Not Bob!) An Arab newspaper in London quotes the lawyer, Yaseri Omran, as saying he faithfully followed Information Minister Mohammed Al-Sahhaf's statements on Iraq's victory, but then "was struck by shock that caused fainting" to learn that "Al-Sahhaf's statements were false...and that he had betrayed the feelings of the simple citizens in all the Arab countries and caused them great sorrow." I heard on KROQ this morning (Doc's news update at 8 a.m.) that Al-Sahhaf keeps trying to surrender, but nobody wants him. This shocks me. Why aren't all of the major news stations bidding for this guy?!

Finally, while driving to work this morning I was stuck on the 605 for a loooooong time and got some time to study the vanity plate of the car in front of me. BUSY DBA, it said. Oftentimes when you get something cryptic like this, the license plate frame is helpful, so I tailgated until I could read it. Oh, I'm so very glad I did. It said 'System Administrators Keep It Up 24x7'. I don't know about you, but I've never learned to equate sexual prowess with database administration. Crazy me! The guy was driving a Lincoln Mark VIII. Oooh baby. That sedan just screams chick magnet, doesn't it? I have a feeling that this guy is clueless socially about many, many things, and this is just the tip of the proverbial iceberg.

Whew! I'm out.

If you are a) currently incarcerated, b) an ex-con, c)related to/friends with/married to a convict, do I have the radio station for you!

This weekend Jason was apparently feeling like an old man, so he played Arrow 93 FM continuously. And the radio station played this same commercial about 12x in a relatively short period of time. The commercial was for a bail bonds service. There was a whole little jingle and everything. It was very odd. But what I found even stranger was that the expected demographic for this radio station includes convicts.

I don't claim to be a genius about marketing for radio stations or anything, but it seems to me that people who advertise on stations take into consideration the demographic of the station. I mean, you want the people to hear your message to have at least a minimal interest in your product or service, right? So does that mean a lot of lawless types are fans of Arrow? After all, my dad Mike is, and many of you know about his penchant for toeing the line with the law.

I now understand the appeal of road rage. I never quite got it before. The stupidest people in the world traverse our nation's freeways. Most of them right here in SoCal. More specifically, in OC. More specifically still, on the 55.

So this morning I'm driving to work (allllll the way down in Irvine; 55 miles one way) and hear that the 10 freeway is closed at the 605 in both directions. This makes me very nervous because it means that the 605S is probably a mess. But no! I cruised along past the 10 without incident. I got on the 91E, as I do every day, and found that the transition was surprisingly clear. We were flying once we passed Cerritos. I was making such good time that I was (foolishly) becoming extremely excited. Then it happened. I reached the 55S. It also started to sprinkle at that time. And traffic stopped. STOPPED! It's not like there was a hurricane or torrential downpour or flooding, people! It was a light misting on the windshield. Didn't even require the use of the windshield wipers. But traffic wasn't goin' nowhere! It took me 45 @#$%^&* minutes to get to Jamboree! Not exactly all that far. I got off the freeway and took Jamboree the last leg of the trip because I just couldn't take it anymore. Needless to say, I was exceptionally late for work. Which means I will have to stay later. Grrrrr. [mutter, mutter, freeway system, mutter, mutter]

Today I also received my first paycheck since the dark recesses of ancient memory. A time for rejoicing, right? Not for me. I am making the teeniest, tiniest bit more money than when I lived 2 miles and 6 minutes from work (I mean it. Like itsy. Bitsy even). Yet, somehow WAY MORE of it is going to that dude FICA and his evil twin the SS administration. My check was so puny and sad. I am now puny and sad. How will I support my new-found gasoline habit???? There was a time when I was only "using" gasoline every couple of weeks. I'm now up to every 2-3 days! This is not good.

I have a new favorite commercial. Tee hee! Currently running on KROQ, it's "the President" talking at a press conference (and I use the quotes not in the sense of saying he's only nominally our president, although I do think that; instead I refer to an actor portraying GWB). He says, "Now that the war is winding down, and the terra [sic] alert is dropping, I urge all Americans to go about their lives as usual. Go see Mount Rushmore in Italy. Go pet a koala in Austria. And go enjoy the warm and friendly hospitality of the people of France." I LOVE that! :)

Also, I am happy to report that I have had my first email response to my blog from someone who is not a current or ex-employee of GNP. Some guy was searching for information on the 'net about Rob Zombie's House of 1,000 Corpses (see my blog of April 11) and he came across my blog. And he felt so strongly that I was in error, that he wrote me an email to tell me that it was a great movie and that I had completely misjudged it with my review based entirely on the radio commercials. I think that's so cool! Although it still sounds like nothing I would be remotely interested in, I like that some stranger read my blog and replied to me. Besides, my friend Mike Axeen (who neither has nor reads blogs, so I can slam him here if I want) loooooooooooved that movie. Well, he loved the concept anyway. He thought the execution of it (pun intended) wasn't the best. I wonder if this has moved me up in the Internet searches?!?! I should definitely go check that. Wait here, I'll be right back...

Hmmm. Apparently not. So I haven't moved up in the search for my name, nor am I easily found in the list when searching under House of 1,000 Corpses. But freakin' Stephanie Zimbalist STILL has WAY more hits than I do. Beotch! Sorry, I had to do that because I just love that the urban dictionary a) exists, and b) includes words like this!

I have to say, I now admire this email guy's commitment and dedication (if not his taste) more than ever, since he searched so zealously for information on the flick. So zealously in fact, that he eventually found my blog, which is probably buried on pg. 3,000 or something!

ARGH! I am SO busy at work! This is a totally new position, so basically they just saved up all of these projects and are off-loading them onto me all at once. I like being busy, and I like my job, but MAN do I have a lot to do! My inbox has 43 items in it, and most of those are action items. And that doesn't include the email list my manager sent me before she went on vacation, the items that the president has asked me to do, or the HUGE project that the VP of Sales & Marketing asked me to do last night! (The VP also expects me to have made a dent in the project by the end of the day tomorrow--teehee!) I need more hours in a day. I'm drowning in MarCom!

At my new job, I work in a small office with three very nice women. Three very nice women with bad taste in music. The first day that they put the radio on KIIS I thought, "I'll live; it can't last forever." The funny thing is, it really can. It's on when I get here in the morning, and it's still on when I leave at night. I've never liked Rick Dees to begin with, so the last thing I want to do is listen to him all morning long. Followed by the world's next most obnoxious DJs throughout the rest of the day.

In case you didn't know this, radio stations like KIIS have a play list of about six songs. I'm SO beyond tired of the following songs:

1) That song about it getting hot, so take off all your clothes
2) Some rap song that says, "It's your birthday" and then a bunch of other stuff I don't care about
3) Jewel's new sell-out song Intuition
4) Madonna's new song
5) Christina Aguilera's new song that goes on and on about how someone being mean to her has made her grow as a person
6) No Doubt's latest--Now, don't get me wrong, I've long been a fan. I went to their concert with Garbage in Long Beach. I have all of their CDs. But I just can't take listening to the same song 500 times a day!

I was actually becoming homicidal. I was plugging my ears at my desk. It's very difficult to type this way. I couldn't take it anymore, and went out last night and bought myself a $30 radio/CD player and some $10 headphones. This way I can listen to whatever songs I want, whenever I want. I'm not saying that my musical selections are for everyone, but they work for me. And now I won't have to hurt anyone at the new job.

I wish someone would kill him

I hate that guy from the Sit 'n Sleep commercials. I have nightmares about him. He's not clever. He's not funny. He's just annoying. If only Larry tried a little harder, I'm sure he could succeed at knocking him off. Then the rest of us wouldn't have to endure him anymore.

One More Reason to Hate Reality TV

We live in a very disturbing culture. A culture where ordinary (and sometimes not even that) people become famous for the stupidest things. Things like being the cutest girl on Survivor, or marrying a total stranger, or being the most hatable person living in a bubble for a month.

Once upon a time celebrity required talent. No longer. Now you simply need a famous last name (Hilton, Firestone, etc.), or to humiliate yourself on a grand scale. Or to be a washed-up, has-been, one-time quasi-celebrity. (What was that show with Emmanuel Lewis and Corey Haim/Feldman [I can never remember which is which]?)

We no longer have discretion with what we'll put on television for the viewing pleasure of the American public. People will eat bugs or much, much worse on Fear Factor; be shamed mercilessly by a Brit with no more claim to fame than his pure, unadulterated hate on American Idol; or dating 25 people at a time and (I'm sure), really getting to know each one of them individually on The Bachelor/ette.

And now the topper. Monica Lewinsky is going to host her own reality TV show. Like her fame wasn't ridiculous enough. Yes, dear reader, this has provoked my diatribe for today. Freakin' Monica Lewinsky will have her own show. (As does Shannen Doherty, one of the few people who I think I might actually hate).

The end is nigh, people. Nigh!!!!

Good Earth tea quote of the day:

"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm"--Colette

I like both the wisdom and playfulness of that--it's inevitable, so you better enjoy yourself. Good life lesson!

So today I have two things to rant about. The first is the Texas-centrism of the current administration, and the second is the amazing sounding movie, House of 1,000 Corpses.

Okay, it's a well-known fact that I have many problems with the current administration, but seriously--could they really be any more old boy network about 'rebuilding Iraq'? So, first I hear that Haliburton has ALREADY been given the contract for oil development when this little ol' war is over. Then today I find out that they were awarded the contract without any competitive bidding from other companies because it was considered a "Pentagon Emergency". Need I remind people that VP Dick Cheney made a good deal of money heading up Halliburton? And, isn't it located in Texas? Where GWB is from? On top of all that, I find out that the businessman that has been selected by the Bush administration to govern Iraq until they can develop their own democratic government (a whole other topic for discussion), is a Texan and an old friend of Bush. Go figure. Gee, I'm so glad that there's no favoritism or anything like that going on!

Have you heard the radio commercials for this Rob Zombie movie House of 1,000 Corpses? It sounds like the Blair Witch Project, except that the bad guy being hunted goes by the dubious and oh-so-scary title of Dr. Satan. (If you've heard the commercial, you've heard the obnoxious guy going, "Dr. Satan! Dr. Satan" until you want to strangle him) Um...is Rob Zombie considered a credible director? This sounds like an incredibly bad B movie that's only getting press because the commercial is being run on KROQ, and occassionally they get suckered into playing his music. Also, the dialogue that they've chosen for the trailer really shows the (non) range of acting abilities represented by the cast. "Durrrr...you've found the boogie man!" Ooh. Scary. Or Chirpy (and therefore soon to die) Chick asking, "So what are you looking for?" Presumably lead guy: "Dr. Satan. Have you heard of him?" Chirpy Doomed Chick: "Sure. C'mon, I'll show you!" Isn't she just a little too peppy for someone who's about to lead some people to their inevitable death? If Dr. Satan is soooo bad, shouldn't Chirpy Doomed Chick want to avoid him? Makes no sense. And what, exactly, qualifies Dr. Satan for his title? Does he have a Ph.D. in badness? Did he spend 8 years studying for his post-graduate Serial Killer degree? Ugh. This type of thing just really irritates me. So many things out there could use the money, and RZ gets funding for this ridiculous waste of time. Good choice, people!

So I saw that Jenny had this pirate quiz on her blog and I gave it a go. It turns out that my pirate name is Bloody Ethel Cash. Not half as cool as her name. And apparently I am Bloody Ethel for these reasons: Every pirate lives for something different. For some, it's the open sea. For others (the masochists), it's the food. For you, it's definitely the fighting. You're musical, and you've got a certain style if not flair. You'll do just fine. Arr! The fighting? Really? Huh!

So, at 8 a.m. I was patting myself on the back for figuring out a more efficient way to drive to Irvine that didn't take 90 minutes--up to now every route I'd tried came out to 90 minutes. I should be able to just shoot down the 55 for the last leg of my trip this morning and make it to work in a staggering 75 minutes. SHOULD being the operative word. [incipient road rage] It took me 30 minutes to go a couple of miles on the 55. Wanna guess how long it took me to get to work? That's right, 90 FREAKING MINUTES! I just can't win.

So yesterday my boss forwarded me this email about bread. I know, you're thinking, "uh...why?" But it was actually interesting. So I will share with you, my fine readers (all 3 of you). Bread is delivered fresh to the stores five days a week. It goes like this:

Monday, Tuesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday.
Each day has a different color twist tie. They are:
Monday - Blue
Tuesday - Green
Thursday - Red
Friday - White
Saturday - Yellow

The colors go alphabetically by color Blue-Green-Red-White-Yellow, Monday thru Saturday. Very easy to remember. Weird, huh?

I had a good day at work yesterday. I worked on creating a presentation for the company that was different than their standard PowerPoint presentation (if you don't already know this, trust me that executives looooove PowerPoint). I gave it to the VP who was all impressed with it, and then told me that we weren't going to submit this proposal after all. I know this sounds like I should be really angry, but this is actually quite common in Marketing. Don't ask me why. Anyway, I talked to my boss last night about Marketing--this poor woman is currently sporting two job titles, she is the MarCom Manager as well as the Customer Sales Service Manager. She's going nuts. So I asked her last night about the two title thing, and she told me that it was because there was nobody else here to do Marketing stuff. But now that I'm here, she's going to transition away from that. So the idea is for me to handle all Marketing functions. She told me flat out that the idea was for me to eventually take over that title. Pretty cool! Speaking of which, I have to go write two press releases....

Don't ask me how I did it, but I fixed my own blog. Little ol' me!!

Today I spent half a day at my new work. I'm jazzed! I spent some time with editors from some of the trade journals, and it was suddenly exciting again to be planning press releases and articles and how to handle communications stuff. It was fun to be back in all that again, and to know what people were talking about with the technology. :) I missed the excitement and the pace! The only problem was that driving home took 1-1/2 hours. Definitely the downside to the equation...

Last night when I tried to post my good news, Blogger was down so here goes: I got a job! I'm very excited. It's working for a small company in Irvine (I'm sooooo looking forward to that commute), doing all of the Marketing Communications. Basically, handling all of the PR needs, any writing that needs to be done for web or print, advertising...you name it, I'm there. I start next Monday and I'm suddenly, frankly, terrified. I'm going to be running the show essentially alone. I'm going to have a lot of responsibility. I've been out of work for 3-1/2 months. I've had trouble remembering words when speaking with friends. What have I lost out there in the world???? But I'm not going to panic. Well, maybe a little....

So, I searched my name on the web to see if my blogspot came up (yes, sadly, I DO have that kind of time on my hands right now). Here's the surprising thing, after a lifetime of people saying to me with faux jocularity, "So, Stephanie Stage, you must be in show business", I find that there are, in fact, a surprising number of Stephanies who DID choose to pursue stage work. Who knew? After searching through about 15 pages of Stephanies who were stage managers, or performed on-stage, or suffered from Stage IV Lymphoma, and who were, most importantly, NOT ME, I found a reference to the one and only, actual me. Anybody want to take a guess where?....we'll wait for you....OK: it was for a GNP press release (GNP Expands Line of Communications Platforms, ...) Oh goody.

In other news, MISTRESS STEPHANIE LOCKE is the INTERNATIONAL MS. LEATHER '97... We are a prolific and proud bunch, we Stephanies are.

Oh yeah, and I never found my blogspot referenced. I guess I would have had to go through about 1,000 more pages of Stephanies performing the stage works of Mozart, singing the lead in La Traviata, and a startling number of websites dedicated to Stephanie Zimbalist (Remember her from Remington Steele? Little trivia fact: she was on Crossing Jordan briefly on Monday as a distressed mother and the catalyst for Lily having her tattoo removed, and thus losing part of her identity). Hmph.