Are You Going To Scarborough Fair?

It's that time of year again when North Texas goes back to the 16th century with the return of Scarborough Fair. Hubster and I made the hour south drive to Waxahatchie, Texas yesterday morning. (Quick tip: go early or be patient with the drive. It's bumper to bumper once you leave I-35.) The Renaissance Fair will be in town until end of May and usually we go towards the end. But last year was so freaking hot, we went now. Not sure that was the brightest move, many of the Artisans were focused on selling and not the demonstrations of their craft.

That said, we had fun with masks. 

 And had some foodies.

Which, were not entirely great; but unless you're camping out in the parking lot and grilling up your own meals, you have to take what you can get. And it's not cheap. 

At one o'clock they have the King's Parade. I felt bad for the drummer whose strap broke and he had to bail out early.  There were some interesting new additions this year. 

The parade was running a little behind and poor King Henry was literally jogging to keep up.

After the parade, we kept wandering around discovering the village. 

 I ended up buying a set of amazing wind chimes, a new leather satchel and a wooden hair clip. 

Right before we left, we visited the "Coin Men" who create customized bronze and silver coins that you wear as medallions. You have a range of images to select from for the front and back of the coin.

They employ a machine invented by Da Vinci that utilizes weight and gravity to stamp into metal. It revolutionized coin making. 

Two years ago I got Pan on one side and Bacchus on the other. As you can imagine, it was a wild year. This time around I asked for two coins: one with the sun and moon, the other with a Fleur de lis and Family Heart.

But the best part of Ren Fair is the cosplay. 

This year had an unusually high number of mythical folk. 

Elves.

And quite a large number of Pirates.

You always get a good show with the men who like to wear skirts kilts.

And the ladies who just want to show skin.

The baby was a nice touch though. 

And the handful of people who pick out their costume from Party City, or make their on attempt to participate. 

 

And then the ones who REALLY get into it. 

Even though it was a mild 85 degrees, I don't know how they do it. Probably why you end up seeing more and more skin as we get closer to summer. 

Fox tails were quite popular this year. 

And at the end of the day, when it's time to part ways and get back to reality in the 21st century, you're reminded why you came here in the first place.

To unplug.

How To Lose My Business In :30

*knock at my door*

50-ish gentleman in a nice suit standing outside my door with a smile and a brochure. I sense salesman.

He: Hello ma'am. I'm so-and-so from such-and-such and wanted to talk to you* about X. How are you today?

Me: (warily) Fine, and you?

He: Well I'm just dandy**! I'm here today because we're having a spectacular deal that your neighbors have been taking advantage of and wanted you to learn more.*** Is your husband home?****

* Talk to me? Or talk at me? Not talk with me?
** No one says dandy.
*** I don't care what my neighbors are buying. I don't even know my neighbors.
**** What does that have to do with anything? Why would he need to be here? What if he just passed away tragically and you reminded me of it. Or, what if I was a lesbian?

Music Monday - "A Little Respect" by Erasure

True story.

I was a freshman in high school, only 14 years old, and had a crush on our marching band's 2nd Drum Major*, Kurt Aufderheide. He was blonde, blue-eyed, tall and Mormon. (Now that I think about it, I had a thing for blondes in high school.)  I do not think that I ever had a real conversation with Kurt; he was a senior like my brother and ate lunch on the upper quad, whereas I was with all the other freshmen by our lockers, too scared to leave the safety of a mass group.

One afternoon, I called our local pop radio station, Star 100.7, and requested that they play a song.  The conversation went something like this:

DJ: Star 100.7! Who is this?
Me: Ummm. Glynis?
DJ: Hey Gwyneth, what's going on?
Me: Uhhh, can you play a song for me? A Little Respect by Erasure?
DJ: Sure thing, who do you want to dedicate this too?
Me: (not expecting this) Oh, um? Kurt Aufderhide? *stunned that this came out of my mouth*
DJ: Ooo! Is this your boyfriend?
Me: NO!!!
DJ: Well does he have your number?
Me: I'm sure he can figure out where to get it.
DJ: Alright then! Here's Erasure with "A Little Respect" going out to Kurt Aufderheide from Gwyneth!



Even though the DJ called me Gwyneth, everyone knew it was me. Didn't matter though because I taped it onto a cassette (did you know they record those conversations during the commercials, not live?) and planed to give that tape to Kurt.

The next day at school, I got up the nerve to take the tape to Kurt (I think my phone number was written on the outside.) He was surrounded by a bunch of girls and somehow I got the nerve to break in and give him the tape, say a squeeky "Hi!" and run away.

He never called.

And I think he got a Mormon girlfriend a few weeks later. She was blonde, blue-eyed and played the trumpet. AND A FRESHMAN!

Where's Kurt today?

In Baghdad. Being awesome. Getting awards. And political stuff. Working on labor issues and probably solving world hunger.

Me?
Jets for the 0.01%.
Living the dream!

We won Tournament of Champions that year. 1992 Field Show. And if you don't believe how awesome marching band can be, you gotta check out this video... of us... THE EMERALD BRIGADE!



*The 2nd Drum Major is at the back of the field, so that when you march facing away from the front, you can still keep in time. 

Belated Music Monday - "Reflektor" by Arcade Fire

You know when you have a project and you're procrastinating because you are not really in the mood (nor will you EVER be in the mood,for that matter) to complete the task at hand, so you play around on YouTube for a bit, watching videos and then suddenly stumble upon a song that you meant to download (legally) a few months back and never seemed to get around to doing so?

It's just a reflektor.

Well, THAT'S Not a good sound!

I’m sitting at my desk this afternoon, doing my googlies, and shift in my seat. All of a sudden, I hear the tell-tale riiiiiiiiiiiiiip. I think to myself, Oh you have GOT to be kidding me!

I stand up and feel by buttocks area… there is a fuzzy delineation between one portion of my jeans and the other.  (These are a pair of my favorite jeans, I paid almost $100 for them {Seven brand} and love wearing them.  Granted, as I have lost quite a bit of weight, they don’t really fit right in the buttock area… my colleagues were getting frustrated and said I had a saggy bottom.  I went out and bought new jeans that fit, but those are in the hamper and need to be washed.  Running late this morning, I just grabbed this pair. Anywhoooooo…)  

I cautiously walked over to MM’s cube where KelBel and MM were chatting.

KelBel: What’s wrong? Your face is bright red.

Me: Ummm, how bad is it?

I turn around and both break into giggles.

Me: That bad??

KelBel: (Still giggling) No, no. Only when you point it out.

MM: Yeah, you can barely notice. (smirking)

KelBel: Let’s find some duct tape.

We couldn’t find duct tape.  So here I sit. With plastic packing tape on the inside of my pants that makes noises.  I bet people think I’m wearing a diaper.  I’d go home and change but there’s only an hour left to the day.  

I’m going to be called Tapey Butt for the rest of the month, I can tell.

Trish's Toes

I've mentioned how awesome Trish the Dish's feet are. Check out her Halloween inspired tootsies!

Strong Enough for a Man, but Made for a Woman

Recently, I went with Trish the Dish to Staples to pick up some supplies (SUPPLIES!!!) for work.  Walking past the pen area, I noticed the new "Bic for Her" pens. Yes, the much joked about lady-pens. A much better written posting about Bic for Her pens

I. Had. To. Have. Them.

Initially, I gave them to JJ as a joke. But he is far too manly to use them. Likely, his deathly gorilla grip man paws would break the writing instruments into a thousand sad pink and purple shards. So I not-so-secretly took them back and decided to keep for myself.

I couldn't decide if I wanted to start with the purple or the pink first. Being the VERY girly girl that I am*, I decided to go back and forth between the two like a cheap harlot. Taking both pens in hand, I dialed in to a conference call and got ready to take notes.

Little did I know, Bic for Her pens have been magically enchanted for ladies!

I couldn't seem to write about the latest sales forecast and measured media impressions; instead I ended up with a scary looking pig, a unicorn, roses and a rainbow!  OMIGOD Bic Pen for Her? What the frak!

Next I took the pens to Adame to see what would happen if he used the super special lady-pens.

"Bic for her pen and in two colors!!! What makes this different from a regular pen? It's a nice pen, for a girl. - Adame"

So apparently men can still communicate effectively with the Bic for Her pens. Albeit, in two colors and a slightly sexist way.

Bic for Her pens. Next up: Bic for her staple removers.




*So not a girly girl.

A couple of Jebus moments.

Saturday morning I had boot camp with Amazon Amy. Since the weather was “nice” she thought we should start off with some laps around the building. (“Nice” being only 90 degrees.) I had a new, fresh playlist for the hour and it motivated the six of us. It was the usual gang (Red, Mike, Dennis, me) and two n00bs – a black couple in their thirties, didn’t get their names. Mike especially liked it when we got to “The Cave” by Mumford and Sons. Noted! Will get n00bsters names next week. I actually lapped them in the work out, so they're going to need to catch up. I excelled in abs and flexibility, not so much on cardio. I swear, if you removed all this chub, I'd have a rocking six pack.

After the workout, Hubster and I went to Bullet Trap for some funsies. Didn't even shower, went all grubby since I'd get GSR all over me anyway. When we got there, the line was ridiculously long and a 30 minute wait. WTF peeps? Ya’ll wanna go shooting on the same day at the same time now? Jebus. I was informed that my driver’s license had expired and technically they shouldn't let me on the range, BUT since I’m a member, it would slide THIS time. Thanks guys! We got lane 9 between two couples who couldn't shoot in the red at yards. Jebus. Either I'm getting MUCH better or they really stunk. Maybe it was a first date thing, I hear that's popular.

So now I have to get a new license. Today, went first thing to the DMV, or as Texas calls it: the Department of Public Safety. What they are trying to be safe about, I haven’t the foggiest. Monday morning and the line was at least 100+ people deep.

Left Hubster in the line (since he had to renew his as well) and went off to get some breakfast and a coffee. Came back with and got in line with him, he’d moved up quite a bit. He looks down at me and says “Really? You got Chik-Fil-A?” And I said loudly, “Oh crap. I bought homophobic food. Jebus!” *shakes fist at the sky* I only ate the chicken, threw the biscuit, tots and coffee away. Not that it makes it better, but it was symbolic. (The chicken died for my stomach, so I felt compelled to honor its death. The tater tots? Not so much.*)

Two hours later, we got out of there. But not before Hubs almost didn’t pass the eye test. That would have sucked.

A hysterical conversation about carrying a weapon and protecting one’s bum was had on the way home, but I cannot repeat any of it here. Let’s just sum up: I was right, he was not so right. My bum is insecure whilst walking to the truck after work.

So I get to work and Bueno told me that she’s looking for the Jew-pacabra and I almost lost it. You’ll have to ask her to explain, or read her blog if/when she posts it.

And this afternoon was wrapped up by a ridiculous conversation including super straight golf balls, why Chik-Fil-A would love them, Steve Carrell, and urinal cakes. I know... you have no idea how we got from Chik-Fil-A to urinal cakes either, but we did. JJ summed it up best with "I'm not going to take drinking advice from a urinal cake."

Finally, I had to get a new bike helmet to protect my "big brain" (as Hubs calls it) so I made a stop at Wally World. (Jebus, I hate Wally World.) I was hoping for a super cute, fun one, but they don't make them in adult sizes. So I ended up with this:

I think I have a Dudley Do-Right chin in this pic. But, as Bueno would say, my eyebrows look fantastic!

Until the West Nile mosquitos are gone and it's not Agent Orange rated allergens outside, my new helmet is living on The David.

He's got a lot going on. 

*I wouldn’t eat tater tots anyway because they are bad for you and fattening and make me have to work out harder with Amazon Amy.
Well, maybe I had one or two...

Fun with Paint

From: G

Date: Thu, 26 Jul 2012 08:50:43 -0700
To: Devo
Subject: hahaha so true

From: Devo
Sent: Thursday, July 26, 2012 10:54 AM
To: G
Subject: Re: hahaha so true



YES!! I've seen this before and I absolutely LOVE it!!





From: G
Date: Thu, 26 Jul 2012 08:58:40 -0700
To: OMS
Subject: RE: hahaha so true



Cept you two are more like this…

From: Devo [mailto:DevoIsAwesome]
Sent: Thursday, July 26, 2012 11:02 AM
To: G
Subject: Re: hahaha so true



HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAH!!!!

 
 
(Because Devo and her husband are ridiculously tall.)

The One Where Parul Shocks Us All

Holy Krishna in a Cheesebasket... Parul's wearing a COLOR! And it's blue! And vibrant!

I think hell hath frozen over.

So Not Hobbit Feet

This is my friend Trish the Dish, who has the prettiest feet I know.

A Bunch of Animals

We started off with a dog named Coax. Dad named him, I think he was a terrier mutt. Don't remember him very well.

Then Ky and I each got rabbits. Mine was a dwarf white named Skipper. His was a grey French lop named Thumper. Let's just say that Thumper thumped my bunny and killed her. I came out to the hutch one day to find her dead with little bunny feet poking out of her hoohaa. Thumper died of heat stroke while we were on vacation. That's the story at least.

We got parakeets the next year, and I let the caged birds sing ... Off to their death, most likely.

Then a hamster I called Whopper who was let free in the avocado orchard. Ky had a number of snakes, one that got loose in the house and wrapped around a TV to keep warm.

Crystal and Samantha were our first dogs. Both of which my mom had to put down while we were in college.

And now? We each have our furry boopins. Flash Jordan, the peekapoo fluff ball that yips but loves my brother with its little fuzzy feet. And us with the four pugs: Mooch, Rugen, Odin and Nadia.

Oh, we had fish at one point too. I think the angelfish ate their babies.

That's a lot of pets.

Real Eck Abode House Convo #333

Me: Wouldn't it be weird if we were driving down the street and we saw Brad Pitt walking along the road?
Hubs: Yeah it would. What, did his car break down or something?
Me: Sure. Would you pick him up?
Hubs: Nah, I'd let him keep walking.
Me: What if it were Morgan Freeman?
Hubs: Oh, I'd pick him up.
Me: Why? Is it an age thing?
Hubs: Well yeah. I mean, if it were Brad Pitt, I'd just roll down the window and say "It's hot out there ain't it Mister Pitt?" But if it were Morgan Freeman, I'd offer him a ride.
Me: What about Tom Cruise? He's 50.
Hubs: He's healthy and has Scientology on his side. Walkin.
Me: Clint Eastwood?
Hubs: Pick him up.
Me: Jim Carrey?
Hubs: Walkin.
Me: Dustin Hoffman?
Hubs: Pick him up.
Me: Kim Basinger?
Hubs: Oh she's DEFINITELY walkin.
Me: Dolly Parton?
Hubs: Pick her up. She's old as dirt.

Meetins Iz Ovah!

Our internal business quarterly meeting ended this afternoon.

This is the outfit I wore on Monday.

I was feeling like a "Betty" then.

Pretty happy and excited for the presentations and new learnings.

Aaaaaaaand this was the outfit today.

Believe it or not, that top is pink sequins and sparkles.

You can't tell, but it does.

My ten minute presentation was shortened into 2 minutes flat.

I nearly hyperventilated, that's how fast I spoke.

Meetings are over. Colleagues from out of town hugged. Time to get back to work.

The Dating Game (not used by permission or even based in reality)

Goooooood evening ladies and gentlemen! Tonight's single lady is Ms. Fancypants who will be going on hypothetical dates with a variety of interesting lads. All so that she can fall in love and leave her job and become a woman of leisure. You with me? GREAT! Let's get started. 

Bachelor Number One is a businessman who splits his time between Dallas and New York City. Born in  Dubai, he went to Eton College and graduated Summa cum Laude from Oxford with a Masters in Business. Speaks fluent Arabic, Farsi, French and English (but with a lovely British accent... imagine him saying "herbs" and "collecting his belongings from the trolley".) Loves his parents and little sister, enjoys mountain hiking, dining out and listening 80s music. Meet... Ammon!

Ammon will fly you to NYC for the weekend. With separate suite rooms at the Waldorf to uphold your reputation, he'll wine and dine you, take you for a lovely afternoon at the Met, carriage ride through Central Park, sweet kisses at the top of the Empire State Building.  His downfall? Well, he's just so damn NICE!  Attractive? Yes. Wealthy? God yes. But just doesn't flutter your leg warmers. Sorry Ammon... time to try Bachelor Number Two! 

Bachelor Number Two is a twenty-six year old Pharmaceutical Rep who moonlights as a fitness trainer. Surprisingly bright, he's an avid reader (well, he listens to books on tape as he runs. So that kind of counts.) He has also had some success developing products to remove unwanted body hair with some of the chemical creams he sells to plastic surgeons. (All on the down low - you need to know the secret word ... "mango".)  He frequently travels to Baja for the surfing and dreams of riding the sweet waves in South Africa.  Meet Brody!

Brody will pick you up in his door less Jeep and whisk you away to a little Mexican place he discovered one drunken evening. Incredibly flirtatious, he will gaze into your eyes (and likely at your legs) and ask you all about meaningless things. You'll have a great time and feel like a million bucks, until you realize he's wearing a silver cross around his neck. Nervously, you wonder if he's a Christian (which makes absolutely no sense when his hand is on your thigh and you're barely through your third Corona.) His answer? No ma'am, it's because of the vampires. You laugh heartily, but he doesn't join in. That's it Brody... belief in the undead is a deal breaker.  Let's go ahead and meet Bachelor Number Three!

Bachelor Number Three is a soulful musician. He sings, plays the guitar and piano, and while his persona screams "rockabilly", he's actually more of a blues guy. Grew up in Georgia on a farm in the middle of nowhere, he's the youngest of seven brothers. (And oh yes, he has a loverly southern twang that could melt icicles off of Santa's netherbits.) Though he's a night person, he likes to spend his free time in the park flying a kite and spouting impromptu haikus about TV shows. Meet.... Jack!

Jack is a pretty chill dude. He'd take off his leather jacket and drape it around you if you're cold, then dance around you and sing a love song. He'll take you on the first date to a little speakeasy where you'd try absinthe, wax philosophically about Ayn Rand and The Peanuts, then laugh merrily as he takes the stage to perform a number inspired by your eyes. He's a good bloke. Sexy? Yes. Dresses well? You betcha. And he has perfectly coiffed hair. You run your hands through it to muss it up and he doesn't care. Is he a keeper? Who knows... but he doesn't own TV or have Internet capability. Plus, he sleeps on the floor with a duvet. Yeeeeaaaaaah, you're a little over that scene. 

But that's all we've got for the Friday Evening Date Night! Tune in next week where we meet a Martial Artist, a Chef and a really hot guy who weaves baskets and chants.

Thanks folks! We outtie!

The Nonexistant Workout Wednesday Haiku

Was a holiday
I didn't work out at all
That's why I'm chubby

Where the heck did that come from?

Ran a little bit late this morning because I didn't know what to wear. I'm spending the afternoon at one of our ad agencies and they are so freaking hip and thin... it's a little frustrating. I'm the client. So I'm more important, right? We pay them to work for us. Yet, when I walk through their doors, I feel like my first day at Painted Rock Elementary School where it's January of 4th grade and everyone has their friends and I'm the new kid wearing a jean jacket and jean skirt, because that was what was cool in San Jose, but definitely not cool here in Poway. And then the next week, when I am wearing my Girl Scout uniform and super proud of my patches, Dana Rethmeyer comes over and pulls down my knee high socks because it's not cool and makes fun of my shoes cause they aren't Keds. They're just white sneakers, but missing that important blue square is what makes it or breaks it on the playground. Effing Dana Rethmeyer.

So yeah, I was late because I was trying to find a hip outfit and finally just decided to wear jeans, flats and a flowey blue top that is comfortable with bright red lipstick. Eff it. I'm hip in my own way. I drive a 1972 Chevy Nova. I throw the best Halloween parties in North Texas. I don't care about their Mad Men coolness.

Which is why when I picked up my triple Espresso Con Panna at Starbucks and the lady asked for my name, I said Judy.

Judy? Who the eff is Judy? Where did THAT come from? Couldn't I have thought of something more cool like Raven or Cassandra or Chk!Chk!Chk! ???

(sigh) I'm hopeless.

My Office Door

Come on in.
It's not like I have an iffice.
With a door.
And a window.
And sunlight.
And a nice place to put a plant.
A philodendron maybe.
Or a hardy fern.
Come on it.
I mean you're already there.
Looking right at me.
It's not like I have walls.
It's not like I have someplace to hang my college degree or photos of my loved ones.
Or even a calendar.
A calendar would be nice.
With photos of golden retrievers.
Who doesn't like a golden retriever?
Have you ever tried to hang a calendar with push pins?
They fall right out. You find them later in your lunch bag or stuck to your coat.
A coat rack.
It'd be sweet to have a coat rack.
Or even a hook.
On the back of the door.
Sweet Ezekial, I want a door. Then I could tell people about my "open door policy" without it being a sad joke.
I'd close it sometimes.
When I needed to focus.
Or sometimes just to collect myself.
I'd hang holiday deorations on it.
Something nondenominational.
Like a snowman holding a banner that says, "There's no business like snow business."
Or maybe it's half melted, and the banner says, "Don't talk to me until I've had my coffee."
Yeah.
That's it.
That would be the bomb.
- credit to Bailey Lauerman

The Ugliest Purse in the Galaxy

Was grabbing my sammich from the office break room when I saw this.

I happen to know who put it out there "for a good home" but I won't tell.

I've removed incriminating marks.

$70.00 for this ugly purse? Areyoufreakingkiddingme!

A perfume bottle and purple bow embroidered onto a camel colored vinyl bag with black trim.

And the interior is hot pink.

The little yellow sticky is my response.