blast from the past

Tiff at age 22:

My old website from 2002.

Don't laugh too hard.

Also, my web design skills are not *quite* this shitty anymore.

Hey-Yo!

Fear not, I'm still around.

After talking to Ryan yesterday...I realized that I should probably...at the very least...update the Randonimity on a weekly basis.

I mean, people are kind enough to subscribe (usually after my throwing a tantrum and stomping my feet on the ground. Usually...but not always.)

So, it's been some time. A lot has changed, and it's still early in 2009.

Second City has been a God-send. No, really. I don't know if any of you have noticed, but I'm far more likely to make a complete ass out of myself...without feeling bad about it. It's really a good thing, actually. Instead of being afraid to let myself out, I just do it...if it works, great. If not? Well, that's okay too.

Still loving my job and the company in general. It's a great experience and I'm learning quite a bit. Still as excited to walk through those doors now as I was on the day of my very first interview.

Also, I like Palmer's fudgy hearts.

Speaking of which: Valentine's Day. *pfft* I've never really liked it, but being single again, I realize how much it's EVERYWHERE. I think my disdain stems from that year in elementary school when no one gave me a Valentine in my Valentine shoe box. (Which, by the way, I spent the WHOLE NIGHT BEFORE decorating with enormous amounts of iridescent glitter and doilies.)

Shit like that can scar a kid for life. There I was...like what? 8? 9? With an empty shoe box, while the rest of the class...even the kid who picked his nose and ate it...had at least one.

I think that if I got a shoe box full of Valentines some year, I might think differently of the holiday. *Might* being the operative word.

Of course, I'm long past the days of decorated shoe boxes and paper Valentines. So I don't think that's going to happen anytime soon. Ha!

Anyhow, until next week!

P.S. Check the link list. New blog/podcast added (second link down). It's the project of a friend of mine and it's good. So check it out or I will eat your face. Thanks.

slothy...but you love it.

Yes, yes. I know. No updates in for-EVER. Look, with the holidays and whatnot, I've been busy. Forgive me?

Great, let's just move forward and put this all behind us.

Don't give me any of that lip. I know, I know. I've failed you. I've let you down. Now sit down, shut up, and open wide for a heaping helping of randonimity.

1.) My cell phone is suffering from a hefty case of dementia. How so, you ask? Well, first of all, it tells me it's charging...all the time. And it actually believes it's charging itself...without the use of a charger. No shit. It even goes so far as to show me that it's fully charged, before being sucked back into reality and proceeding to show me that in the real world it only has one battery bar left.

Hell, the damn thing doesn't even shut off anymore. Nope. It likes to pretend it's charging when the power is off. And, when the charger is plugged into the phone? Well, it doesn't charge.

It also doesn't like me to tell it what volume it should be set at, and has lost all use of it's motor skills, as it no longer vibrates. It's kind of like a volume lottery; I turn the phone on, and it randomly chooses how loud or soft it chooses to ring. Fun.

So, this prompted me to speed up the process of buying a new cell phone. And I have now officially entered the 21st century: I bought an iPhone.

I feel sort of bad. The first day my phone started showing symptoms of its circuit board deterioration, I said to it (literally), "You know, Phone, I always defended your simplicity. For 4 long years I stuck by you, regardless of how out-of-date you are. And now this? Could you please snap out of it?"

The phone was quiet for a few seconds, after which it replied, "Beep! Charging. Beep Beep! Not Charging. Beep! Charging. Beep Beep not charg-Beep! Charg-Beep beep! Not-Beep! Charging!"

I gave it a few days, after which I discovered I could no longer control its volume.

I became very introspective over the holiday. I realized that this would be my cell phone's last Christmas with me. I could not trust it alone, and I could no longer take care of it the way it needed to be taken care of.

So Sunday afternoon, I switched to AT&T and ordered my iPhone.

I still haven't broken the news to my old cell phone. I'm hoping that by the time my new phone arrives, Old Celly will have gone into full-blown amnesia and won't realize that when people dial my number, it's not her/him that rings, but the iPhone.

I plan to let him/her live out what's left of his/or her battery life until one day, well, one day I'll wake up and his/her screen will be forever dark.

It's sad, but it's for the best. You were a good friend to me you old hunk o' junk. You and your llama screen saver and your poorly made homemade ringtones. I'll miss the midi version of the Perfect Strangers theme song that you played as my alarm. I remember we won that one together...during a rousing game of Name That Tune- TV and Movie Edition back in December 2005. Ah...the memories.

Any how, the first app I plan to get for my iPhone is iFart. I think Old Celly would have enjoyed it.

2.) Christmas was pretty good, aside from the fact that I was PMSing like nobody's business. I swear, you could have seen this storm of irritation and destruction on a radar map. I was crabby as hell, and for no good reason.

Luckily, however, it quickly passed and left little damage. Which is good, because although celebrating Christmas with a hellfire attitude is pretty awful, starting the New Year with one is much, much worse.

3.) I've had a lot of time off of work due to the holidays (and this nasty chest and sinus cold). It makes me realize how much I love what I do and how great the company and the people I work for are. And how blessed and lucky I am to have what I have.

4.) Quitting smoking in March. Will keep you posted. Which reminds me, I need to track my cigarettes.

5.) Going to try and lose 30 pounds...again. To prepare, I've been stuffing my face with all things fattening...and drinking massive amounts of RC cola. Gotta get it while I can.

6.) Second City classes start in 2 weeks. Holy crap. I. Am. Stoked.

7.) Gonna learn to play guitar. That said, I'd like you to meet Otis:



I haven't yet purchased this glittery blue gem of a girly guitar (with a boy's name...after the great Otis Redding...one of my musical heroes...), but I'm saving up. Then it's lessons at the Old Town School of Folk Music for me. Can't wait.

8.) I think that's it for now. And I will try really hard to update more often.

9.) Oh yes! There is other news. Part of my many New Year's Resolutions stems from the fact that I haven't seen enough movies. So, I will be resolving to watch at least one movie per week, and write what I learned from it. This also means there will be a new blog from me for you to be able to follow my progress and see what I discover: Cinematic Resolution

Feel free to take a sneak peek and bookmark it now. I plan to start promptly on January 1, 2009.

10.) Happy New Year to you all!

zig a zig---what?

Real quick, as I drove into work today I got stuck in a little construction traffic.

No matter, really, as I had the radio to keep me company. Of course, when the radio started playing the Spice Girls, I found myself at a crossroads.

Do I leave it on or switch the station? And for some odd reason, I was just pulled into the song...seriously. I could not turn it off to save my life.

What the hell does that mean?

@@!$%^@!#%^@#*^#@!!!!!!!!!

Aw, fartknocker, dick hammer, douche bag, Muesli, banana nut bread, fermented olive loaf, monkey tail, whale taint, bunyon muffin, cracked egg, jelly skunk, rat fluffer, pudding wrench, starfish, pucker face, bicycle peddle, toot horn, frog nuts, spunk monkey, tractor breath, oat bran, fish Walter, funk drawer, butt rocket, crotch gun, mint nose, pineapple papaya, Dirk Diggler, poo poo beard, potty head, poot face, swamp sock, dick feed, jerky beefer, rank moldy toaster, Boxcar children, fruity tart, lacy poop, urine luck, potty cake potty cake bake this in your freakin' pan!!!!!! Argh.

...yes, I'm a little distressed at the moment.

weird menu items: part one

Jeff and I go to a lot of family restaurants which has lead me to notice something about family restaurant menus: They contain some pretty entertaining typos and meal choices. Take the above for example. "Sophie's Choice."

?????

Now, I have never actually seen the movie or read the book Sophie's Choice, however, I know what it's about. If you don't, I welcome you to read the synopsis here (but keep in mind, it will spoil the movie for you): Sophie's Choice Synopsis

If you don't want to ruin the movie for yourself, here's the drift:

Holocaust
Concentration Camps
A mother and two children in an impossible situation
Death

(That's a REALLY watered down list of things involved in the movie.)

So naming a menu item Sophie's Choice? Darkly funny and quite unappetizing. Brilliant.

google strikes again!

I've learned three things over the past two days:

1.) This blog is getting more popular in terms of Google searches. This morning I checked my Sitemeter to find that someone from Jonesboro, Georgia had found my blog by searching Google for "dunkin donuts vanilla chai".

If you search about 4 or 7 entries down you'll find my entry on my first week at JV.
(It changes. One time Daily Randonimity was 4th, then is was 6th or 7th...but whatever.)

2.) People search for a lot of random things; and typically it's those random things that lead them to my blog. You would think they'd find it by searching for my name, or where I work, or even the blog title itself. But no. They find it completely at random...which means that I've aptly named my blog. Woo hoo!

3.) Even though Dunkin Donuts is a pretty darned popular establishment, more websites use some combination of the words "how to make your hair look like George Washington in the pool" as keywords, than "dunkin donuts vanilla chai." (Although upon a check just now, Daily Randonimity was the last listing on the first search page. Success! Note: This is only because I put that exact phrase in my post yesterday. It links to yesterday's post...not the actual post on George Washington pool hair...but still.)

See? Web analytics can be fun.

sometimes they write themselves...

Saw this while driving into work last week.

Now, I realize that there are a million jokes here; however, I will leave the captions and wisecracks to you.

But I will say this: I'm sorry for the raindrops in the picture. Although I think it's sort of funny how it almost seems as though the environment is censoring the picture.

oh mr. coffee...

A few months ago, our old coffee maker decided to spaz out on us at work. I had noticed that we had Mrs. Tea sitting on the shelf in a very lonely condition, so I suggested that we replace our broken coffee maker (which was not a Mr. Coffee...) with a Mr. Coffee.

I felt that the previous situation was mildly adulterous.

So, our office manager went out and, upon my suggestion, picked up our new coffee maker: a genuine Mr. Coffee.

Unfortunately, though the thing makes a nice cup of java, the carafe is prone to spills. Doesn't matter how you hold the thing, or how slowly you pour; inevitably, while preparing a cup of coffee or filling up the machine, you will create a large puddle on the counter top.

I recently went in the kitchen to find that my coworker, Chris, had aptly renamed and relabeled the machine: Mr. Spilly.

I should add that shortly after we brought in Mr. Spilly, we threw out Mrs. Tea. This could be the reason for his unsavory behavior...but I digress.

skinny jeans!

So, last night I decided to go balls out and try on my skinny jeans. It was a pivotal decision. I mean, did I run the risk of feeling good about the fact that 5 pounds have released themselves from my ass, only to find that my skinny jeans would refuse to be pulled up over my calves?

Or did I hold out another week or so, in the hopes that by then they would fit?

After weighing my options, I decided to try them on---for shits and giggles.

Lo and behold, they not only came up over my butt with *minor* issue, but they actually buttoned and zipped. I mean, sure, they're snug, but they fit much better than they have in almost a year. A YEAR.

As I looked myself over in the mirror, it was like a new wave of confidence came over me. Suddenly, more clothes in my closet looked appealing. I mean, even though the skinny jeans still give me a *slight* muffin top, it was like I was a new person.

I found myself packing tops in my overnight bag that just a week ago I had written off forever. Surely when paired with these skinny jeans, these jeans that have faded to just the right color and hug my butt in a way that shows her off in all of her glory, those tops that I wouldn't have dreamed of wearing would now not only be acceptable, but flattering.

I mean, we'll have to see about that of course, but I did wear my skinny jeans to work today. And yes, they're more snug than my usual variety, but I can breathe and digest without issue. Also, I've noticed that their current state of tightness is just right for holding every jiggly part up and in, making walking around (or movement in general) a much more pleasant experience.

I don't think it's the fact that I'm thinner when I can fit into these jeans. I think it's more the fact that these jeans and I have formed a bond. And for a while, that bond was broken.

But now? Now I'm even more motivated to continue my quest for a trimmer figure and a healthy lifestyle.

So, in hindsight, risking the the loss of my motivation was ultimately the right choice.

(Of course, had they not fit, it might be a different story...)

Also, took an interesting picture on the way to work today. Will post it very soon.

leetle tiny blog...

I must admit: I have nothing witty, smart, interesting, or even boring to report today.

I'm sitting here at Jeff's, drinking wine and relaxing, excited for him to get home so we can catch up on Season One of Mad Men and begin Season Two.

That show is fantastic. And...I think I've found my doppelganger...sort of.

Well, you be the judge:

Elizabeth Moss (AKA "Peggy" on Mad Men) :





And me (AKA, um...me):

(I'm on the left, in the gold...)


Okay...so this is not the best picture of me. As a matter of fact, it's pretty awful...just check my pit stain. Hot.

But I'll tell you this much: When I took this picture? It was 2005...and I was wearing my skinny jeans...

and you're telling me i don't have enough experience?!

Back in my job hunt days, my lack of experience in copywriting made it difficult for me to even get a response. Sure, my writing skills in terms of the advertising world weren't polished, but I don't think that makes me any less of a writer.

Luckily, I found a job that I adore and that tests me every day. One that helps me prove to myself that what I bring to the table is pretty darn delicious.

Even so, there are times when I have to roll my eyes at my past experiences looking for writing jobs.

I present to you, Exhibit A:



If I had been writing this ad, I would have made it perfectly clear that they got married...and now they have 5 kids. As opposed to writing it in a way that suggests that these two lovely folks have tied the knot,and now you must procreate 5 times.

I'm just sayin'.

the plan

Here's the plan for tonight:

1.) Leave work by 10pm

2.) Drive home--remember to enjoy Lake Shore Drive at night...it'll make the drive feel shorter.

3.) Arrive home, check for spiders near the front door, struggle with key---all the while fearing that a face-eating spider is slowly creeping up behind you, next to you, above you (cripes! They're EVERYWHERE!).

4.) Frustratedly open the door. Let out a huff. Probably say "Jeebus Chrisssssse..." under breath (but loud enough to really express discontent).

5.) Fumble through the dark to find the light switch, any light switch, all the while carefully avoiding glass coffee table.

6.) Flip on dining room light, although actually wanting to flip on the kitchen light. Remind self of which switch is which. Forget which switch is which in about 5 minutes.

7.) Plop purse on counter/chair/table/floor---whichever's closest.

8.) Pee. This is inevitable after the amount of water and coffee consumed today.

9.) Come up with ways to justify that the pizza you ate for dinner (Hey. It was free Lou Mal's...), does not count as cheating on your diet. Remember that you only had one piece...even though you thought you wanted two.

10.) Turn on radio. Probably something AM. Remember how fast 30 is approaching.

11.) Walk into kitchen. Pour a glass of wine, wait, no, have a beer. Wait. A margarita. Go to computer, check which option will be less detrimental to your diet. Choose that one, all the while knowing you'll still have a margarita, too.

12. Fill up bath tub. Use Jeff's shampoo to make bubbles.

13. Top off wine glass.

14. Soak in a nice, relaxing bath.

15. Towel off, put on pj's, have a cigarette on the back porch. (There are no spiders out there. Well, none that I can see, at least.)

16. If Jeff's home, give him a big kiss. If he's not; try to stay awake just a little bit longer.

17. Get some much-needed (and well-deserved) sleep...

...start all over in the morning.

(Podcast coming shortly.)

crazy day

So, my wisdom tooth cracked. This caused my tongue to swell up and my jaw to feel like a cow had just kicked me in the face.

Not fun.

And wouldn't you figure it happened during one of the busiest times of my life to date.

So I took a trip to the oral surgeon this morning and found out that in addition to needing the sucker yanked out, I also have an infection.

Yay.

Of course, the initial plan was to get a consultation, and then drive into work. That didn't happen. Figuring that the effects of an infection in my jaw would not be good, I thought it best to stop into Walgreens to pick up my prescription and be on my way.

I should have known by the percentage of slow drivers and oblivious pedestrians on the way to the pharmacy that the rest of my day wasn't going to go as smoothly as planned. After waiting for what seemed like 10 minutes for a driver to get a "primo spot" in the Walgreens parking lot (for chrissakes, it's Walgreens...the farthest you'll have to walk is 10 goddamned feet...), I wrestled my way through the door.

It smelled like a goddamned fart in there.

I hurried through the noxious cloud of ass puff, only to be told that my prescription would take 40 minutes.

I had 2 options.

1. Go to Chicago and turn back around to pick up my prescription before 10pm, and then head back into Chicago.

or 2. Call work, see if I could work from home until my prescription was ready and head into work.

After calling, we all decided that 2 would be my best option. I mean, I don't think anybody wants my jaw to explode right now.

I went home, did some work and headed off to Walgreens to pick up my prescription, nervously wondering if the place would still smell like a public restroom at an IBS convention.

Click here to listen to the Podcast of this entry!

oh skinny jeans. why hast thou decievest me?

So, I'm dieting again.

Not really, dieting, per say...but watching what I eat and investing in a shitload of 100 Calorie Snack packs and meat that really isn't meat.

Why? Because 30 pounds ago I felt fit. But now? Now, more often than not, I feel bloated and unstylish. When you can't fit into 70% of your wardrobe, usually that means that you've resorted to wearing worn out t-shirts and unflattering jeans.

This is true in my case. So true, in fact, that my last pair of hip jeans are officially too small.

This is unheard of.

I mean, my skinny jeans and I have had a love-hate relationship for about 2 years now. But there was always that one pair of jeans that, even if my gut, ass, and hips had outgrown my skinny jeans, well, that other pair of cute jeans still fit.

And I'll be damned if I tried to try them on over the weekend and I couldn't get them over my knees.

So, I've decided to lose the weight. 30 pounds. This is kind of a big deal, because in addition to a slimmer waistline, I will also be losing my butt and *gasp* my boobs.

But it's a sacrifice I'm willing to make, because honestly? I don't want a new wardrobe. I have plenty of clothes...they just don't fit. Or, if I do manage to squeeze them on, they cut off all circulation below the waist AND make digesting food near impossible do to their restrictive nature on my intestines.

So that's the scoop. But you know what's great? I actually eat MORE when I'm dieting than when I'm not. Why? Because to keep your metabolism working, you need to eat more frequent (albeit smaller) meals throughout the day.

I've eaten 3 times already and I still have 2 snacks and a meal to go. Woo hoo!

Also, I'm going to start exercising.

Today, I set my alarm for 6am in order to do a free workout on Comcast On Demand. Unfortunately, I couldn't pull my sleepy ass out of bed.

The good news? The biceps on my right arm are going to be bulging from hitting the snooze button for the better part of an hour.

Hey...

...it's a start.

One more thing: I am going to start a podcast of this blog very soon. I realize that sometimes, well, you just don't feel like reading. But more on that later.

I have a snack to eat.


Click here to listen to the Podcast of this entry!

oh syntax!

Since Chicago's installed these push-button Emergency-Generation Machines, I'll never again find myself asking, "Where's an emergency when you need one?"

i'm a mush

I was getting something out of the closet the other day at Jeff's house, when I noticed his clothes just chillin' on their hangers.

I took a step back and looked at the collared shirts, and the slacks, and the pajama pants on the top shelf. (I usually manage to steal a pair or two of those pj pants for a few months before he even notices they're missing. Now, his socks? I steal a pair of those and it's like he's got some kind of damn radar! But I digress...)

But looking at all of his clothes, I just got all mushy and sentimental, like, "This is all of my baby's stuff. All organized and pressed, just hanging there, waiting to be worn."

Maybe it's weird, but when he's at work and I'm home alone, sometimes I walk to the closet and take a quick peek at his shirts. I guess it just comforts me a little.

That and he's got this one shirt that has these flaming mutant pineapples on it--which totally makes me laugh.

new digs

The games division at work moved upstairs, which resulted in a mass migration downstairs where I'm stationed with the other writer/directors. So here's my new desk.

And yes...that is, in fact, a gigantic Twinkie.

not very appetizing...

So, I was perusing the JV kitchen for lunch the other day when I found a brown jar of B&M tucked away in the back corner of a cabinet. (Apparently, B&M is baked beans.)

Note: When making a food product that is A.) brown and
B.) known to cause gastrointestinal issues and/or music, so to speak, it's probably best not to name it anything remotely close to "BM." (That ampersand (&) does not make the situation any better, if that's what they were hoping...)

triage?

I still find this situation disturbing.