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Wednesday, November 27, 2002
Things I love on the WWW
So, have I told you people how much I LOVE the local columnists in the Chronicle? For instance, this man must be the long lost twin of my pimp, Big Daddy M. He is AS ONE with the television, and, although he does not share my love of crap TV, I still love him. Also, this guy is always a good time. He can get a little sensitive, even for me, but he is still a certifiably organic component of the love-peace-and-drugs reputation that San Francisco is famous for. Plus, his odd hatred of Dick Cheney’s wife is quite amusing.
It ain’t Kansas, baby.
Posted
by The Amy @ 2:48 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar
Coz the boys in the ‘hood are always hard
People often think of California as a very dangerous place –– one with constant freeway shootouts, drug deals on every corner and gang-related deaths as a matter of course. Personally, I always thought that these people were just over-reacting to the sensationalistic crap the news media feeds them, and that my little suburban community was far from the murderous cities of San Jose, San Francisco and Oakland. I believed I was safe. Oh, how naive I was.
I now have proof that I do in fact, live in the hood. Here’s a recent entry taken directly, verbatim, from the Police Blotter in the free daily “newspaper” that serves our local communities. Brace yourselves –– this isn’t for the faint of heart.
Saturday
200 block Ortega Ave., 3:56pm
A police officer investigating a possible gang gathering was given the finger by a person whom he chased and arrested for interfering with an officer.
That’s right. In broad daylight, in the middle of the day, gang members are brazenly using The Finger.
Is nothing sacred?
Posted
by The Amy @ 9:44 AM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (1)
Tuesday, November 26, 2002
Apparently, The Amy did not like her lunch today
Dear Healthy Choice®,
While I appreciate your attempt to provide busy people healthy meals with your frozen food entrée selections, I have a few comments on one of your products. Since, like all gigantic corporations, I know that the opinion of one person is at top of your priority list, I look forward to a long and rewarding correspondence.
Here is my concern:
I recently purchased the Mixed Grills Chicken with Ginger Dipping Sauce™ meal and had it for lunch. Sitting at my desk, forlornly staring down from my 20th floor window at the rest of the world passing me by, I was looking forward to experiencing the “lean meats” and “tender vegetables.” Imagine how shocked I was when the quality of the meal did not live up to the promises advertised on the packaging!
Let me give you an example: When I first tasted this meal, I did not find the ginger dipping sauce “zesty” nor the brown rice “seasoned” as promised. I instead found the sauce “noticeably like the sweet and sour sauce that comes in packets from Chinese restaurants” and the rice “tasting suspiciously like the cardboard box that it came in.”
Upon closer examination of the box I was confused by yet another claim. Again, if I may quote directly from the packaging, your “chefs created a flavorful dipping sauce to enhance your taste experience so you can eat the meal just the way YOU (sic) want it.” Now I don’t mean to cast aspersions on the people you employ, but I just don’t believe that a staff of well-trained gourmets are sitting in Omaha painting little grill lines on chicken breast chunks. And by the way –– the inclusion of a mysterious “grill flavor” in the ingredient list also makes me question the veracity of your claim that “Mixed Grills get their great taste from grill cooking.” I'm no sucker.
Healthy Choice®, I am saddened by these obvious errors on this product packaging. I cannot believe that a company of your stature would knowingly lie in an advertising campaign, but the evidence seems irrefutable. Unless this misinformation is corrected in future products, I’m afraid that I may have to go public. Can you imagine the uproar –– a product that has failed to live up to its advertising?
Have you no shame?
Sincerely,
The Amy
Posted
by The Amy @ 3:18 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (3)
Monday, November 25, 2002
If you’re being watched but not doing anything, is it still a violation of privacy?
This may not help with the tough street cred I’m trying to establish on this here little blog, but I’ve never been arrested. I know, it’s surprising. But, I am a regular watcher and a very big fan of both Law and Order and CHiPs, so I think that I really understand the whole criminal justice thingy.
Right.
Anyway, I bring this up because I recently had the opportunity to experience the magic of two-way glass. You know- like when the tough cops interrogate the perps and their boss stands on the other side of the window saying something like “Let’s see if he’ll turn on his little friend.” Or “Show him we mean business.” Sadly, I was not being interrogated or brought in for a line-up, but instead was witnessing a focus group. We didn’t have Pancharelli (how do you spell that? Does Erik Estrada even know?), but a moderator named Bob from Texas. I’m pretty sure that was his full name.
The really freaky thing about this situation was that the room looked like any other kind of room- you couldn’t even tell there was two-way glass in there. How many more of these rooms exist? Could there be entire office buildings and apartment complexes full of two-way glass? Yikes- Am I being watched right now???
Really, though, if someone were watching me all the time they would be very disappointed. Nothing really exciting happens in my life. I mean, I have my occasional random interactions with the destitute and/or crazy and sometimes I eat a burrito with salsa so hot that it makes me cry, but other than that, it would just be the staggering minutiae of my everyday life. “See Amy run to her train. See Amy purchase overpriced coffee. See Amy wear black pants or a skirt… again.”
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. It’s taken me years to cultivate this level of overall happiness with who and where I am in life. Drama is highly overrated and I will leave that to the professionals. I’m just content to wake up every morning, kiss my boyfriend, pet my cat and stumble (literally) through my day.
I think I may have just reached a state of nirvana. Does this mean I have to start drinking soy milk and finding my chakras?
Posted
by The Amy @ 12:03 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (4)
Thursday, November 21, 2002
So the weather is great, but...
Today in LAX I saw a fine young gentleman with a T-shirt that read, simply:
BOOYAH
I'm not certain that he had a mullet, because I only saw him from a distance, but I'd like to think that he did. Also, I'm hoping he was wearing Wranglers.
Booyah, indeed.
It's good to be home.
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by The Amy @ 10:13 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (2)
Wednesday, November 20, 2002
Rough Life
We now have a convertible and will be tooling down the coast this afternoon. It's going to get over 80 today. Yes Mom, I brought sunscreen.
Work travel is rough.
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by The Amy @ 11:24 AM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar
Monday, November 18, 2002
Red rum
Well, I’m in San Diego now- first presentation over and only four more to go. I had quite a little experience with the hotel stairs this morning. My key wouldn’t work in the elevator so I managed to get myself trapped on a floor that was under construction in a very “Shining”-like moment. Instead of the evil little twins I had some burly construction workers who didn’t speak any English. Almost scarier.
So, for those of you who stayed in the Doubletree this morning… Hi- that was me running down 11 flights of stairs in a sports bra, shorts and a crappy T-shirt I’ve had since high school. Again, the only word we can use to describe this moment:
Hot.
More to come, I’m sure.
Posted
by The Amy @ 11:35 AM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (3)
Friday, November 15, 2002
If I see Winona, I’ll ask her why she did it
So I’m off to Southern California for the week- travelling up and down the coast giving a presentation for my job. I know it sounds very glamorous, but most of the time will be spent eating Cheetos in a rental car.
Hot.
I’ll be on the lookout for celebrity sightings and brushes with Death on the Highway. I’m guessing there will be more of the latter.
It should be a good time.
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by The Amy @ 3:30 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar
Thursday, November 14, 2002
The Rocking Continues...
And the crowd roars- I think this could be "Janie's Got a Gun."
I hope this means there are mullets in the neighborhood.
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by The Amy @ 10:37 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar
Rocking Out
Right now, from my bedroom, I can hear Aerosmith. They're playing at the amphitheater that's about a mile away from my house. It's so loud that I can clearly hear the words to "Dream on."
Wait... now they're playing "Slow ride." "Slow ride... take it easy."
Where's a damn lighter when I need it?
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by The Amy @ 10:12 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (1)
I don’t care what you say- 25 women vying for the love of some idiot from Springfield, MO IS reality.
We here at The Amy have heard the concerns of our readership (of approximately eight people, four of which are either related to or living with me), and it is the decision of the management to halt the All-Cat Website. I know, you’re sad. We will now be discussing a subject near and dear to our hearts:
Reality TV and Why it is So Good.
This follows my whole “Saved by the Bell” theory of TV watching. If you’re going to watch TV, which is inherently worthless crap, you might as well watch the worst thing available. Why fool yourself? It’s not High Drama, it’s not Art- it’s TV. It’s “COPS” and “30 Seconds to Fame.” It’s “Charles in Charge” and “Blind Date.” It’s the sweet release of not having to think, do or be anything for any given half-hour. Karl Marx said religion was the opiate of the masses- Karl, buddy, welcome to the 21st Century. TV is our smack.
Now, let me make myself clear. This is not criticism- I am a TV watcher. You can say I’m lazy or a lemming- I don’t give shit. I watch TV. You can tell me to read a book (which I do, shut up) or knit a sweater (which I won’t)- I still remain unapologetic. I don’t live my life tied to the Stupid Box and the only thing I tape is “Sex in the City” for my non HBO-having friends, but I do watch on a regular basis. The difference is that I recognize how bad TV is and I don’t take it (or myself) so seriously. I may watch “The Bachelor,” but it’s primarily to point out to my boyfriend that, “I may have an occasional PMS-induced mood swing, but hey, at least I’m not running around talking about how someone ‘hurts my heart’ like that psycho Christi chick.” TV makes complete asses out of everyone. With their poor decision making and deliciously bad wardrobe choices- how can you not feel good about yourself by comparison?
Reality TV is a constant, fabulous train wreck- it’s made 19-year-old kids think being on “The Real World” is a “career” move (for a career as a punchline, maybe) and given Jerry-fricking-Springer legitimacy. [Side note- did he really pay for a prostitute with a check as the Mayor of Cincinnati or is that one of those lovely urban myths that you really hope is true? Can someone research that?] It’s total trash, but at least it’s honest trash. The fact that “The Bachelor” was beating out “The West Wing” in the ratings for awhile cracks my shit up. Stupid, noble, fake President… By the way –– since when does playing a President make you qualified to give your opinion on an election, jack-leg?
Now, I know that some of you may say- “What about ‘The West Wing’! ‘The Sopranos’! ‘Law and Order’! And ‘SEX’, for God’s sake- that’s not crap!” And you are right, those shows, and a few others, have redeeming characteristics, good actors and occasionally great storylines. But they are part of an institution that year after year awards “Everybody Loves Raymond.” EVERYBODY LOVES RAYMOND, people!! Who?? Who loves his whiney ass? I sure don’t. If the best TV has to offer is that idiotic pap, the distinction between best and worst is as tiny Wee Man.
Actually, now that I think of it, the only possible exception to my theory is “Jackass.” That shit IS brilliant.
Posted
by The Amy @ 12:03 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (4)
Wednesday, November 13, 2002
Dr. Rudy
One of my Alert Coworkers brought this to my attention, and in the vein of my new policy of an all-cat blog, I would like to draw your attention to this clever man.
Most cats would probably make better therapists anyway. I know our cat would.
That's it- I'm on it. I wonder what I could charge... $150/visit? $200? How much would you pay for Purr Therapy?
Move over, Dr. Phil. Dr. Rudy's in the house.
Posted
by The Amy @ 10:00 AM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (4)
Meow
So here’s an actual conversation I had a few nights ago with my Mom.
Mom: So I see you have on of those little on-line website things now.
Me: Yeah, Micky made it for me. I think it’ll be fun.
[Silence on the phone...]
Mom: Well, you know, people get fired for those types of things. What are you going to talk about anyway?
Me: Mom, I’m not going to get fired. And I’m not sure what I’ll talk about- just things that happen. Don’t worry, it’ll be very PG-13.
[More silence...]
Mom: It should be more like PG. And don’t tell them your name- that way they can’t trace you.
Me: Uhh, it’s called “The Amy.” I think it’s a little too late for that. And who’s going to trace me?
Mom: Well, you know, PEOPLE. I just think you’d better watch what you say, Missy.
After I dispelled a few more fears, we hung up the phone. Later that night, or maybe the next day, this is the full text of the email I got from her:
“You know, you could always talk about your cat.”
I love my Mom.
Posted
by The Amy @ 9:01 AM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (1)
Tuesday, November 12, 2002
Why hello, Mr. Stapler! And how are you today, Ms. Palm Pilot?
Okay-
This is why I am not nearly as smart as I think I am.
It just took me five tries to leave a decent outgoing message on my voicemail at work. FIVE TRIES to tell people that their call is important to me and that I’ll get back to them as soon as possible. FIVE TRIES to tell them that I would be in meetings all morning and out of the office for the rest of the day. FIVE TRIES.
Apparently certain synapses do not fire on The Amy’s brain before 7 AM. I don’t think I even pronounced my name correctly until the third attempt.
I have put on some major smarty pants this morning. Who knows what I'll be saying by 9. Yikes.
Posted
by The Amy @ 7:08 AM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (3)
Monday, November 11, 2002
Commuter Tales
So I live in the lovely city of San Francisco. Or, I should say I WORK in the lovely city of San Francisco and I LIVE where I can afford to pay rent, have a backyard and not have to step over/around/through bum puke/piss/feces. (Nice) Also, since I freely admit that I am a terrible driver and no more terrible drivers are needed on the California freeways, I take the commuter train. Although it sounds glamorous and romantic- taking a train to work every morning, how very 1940’s- in reality, it does have some frustrations. Namely, my fellow commuters. Let me elaborate…
People who I hate for no rational reason on the train in the morning
(An abridged list)
The Dork Walker- A short, 40-something balding man who always has to be THE FIRST of the train so he can get to his more-important-than-anyone-else’s-job. He walks with his butt sticking out, his arms at 45-degree angles (most likely to hit people as he walks by), and his entire body tilted like he’s a rocket about to take off. I seriously have never wanted to trip someone so much in my life.
The Lady Who Knows Everyone- A large and in-charge woman who misuses stretch pants (stretch pants! hello?!?) far too frequently. She yaks, loudly and constantly, with each of the conductors about the each of the other conductors, referring to them by first name, as if she knows them personally, which she clearly does NOT. Sister, just let the men (and a few women) take your ticket and keep the train moving. It’s a delicate balance between rider and conductor and she is throwing it all out of whack. And she wears stretch pants!!!
That Bee-yatch Who Said “It’s not a phone booth” While Huffing Off to Another Car- Yes, I can make the subtle distinction between a train and a phone booth, however, since I spend almost three hours of my life daily on this hunk of metal, if I want to call my friends or family and quietly chat with them I will do so. Oh, but I can see that you’re the kind of annoying broad that has to have complete and total silence to read your Danielle Steel novel. Go home and watch “Everybody Loves Raymond.” And don’t pretend like you didn’t hear me say “suck it”- you know you can SUCK IT.
But, never fear, there is a little room for joy on the train. To prove that I’m not completely bitter and jaded (yet) here is my corresponding…
People who I love for no rational reason on the train in the morning
(A complete list)
The Cardplayers- Four guys that meet up in one car every morning, share the four-seaters that are reserved for the handi-capable and/or infirm and play either poker or gin rummy. A much better use of space. Not a one is under 50 and they all look like they are having so much fun...in the morning…at 6 AM. That’s what I’m talking about, people. That's the love.
The East Coast Conductor- I’ve never actually seen him, but every once in awhile he’s there in the mornings, telling everyone to have a “won-er-ful, won-er-ful, won-er-ful” day. I believe he’s trying to say “wonderful” but he has such a thick Boston/New York/New Jersey accent that it comes out as “won-er-ful.” Since California is the land without accents it is so refreshing to hear someone proudly speak with a dialect. In fact, it’s won-er-ful.
Okay, so there are more random strangers that I hate than I love. It’s all about keeping it real.
Posted
by The Amy @ 9:21 AM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar (3)
Sunday, November 10, 2002
Oh, I am very nervous. It's like the first day of school and I'm the kid with the little blonde pigtails and the skinned knees. "NEW GIRL, NEW GIRL." "Stop yelling," I say, "Don't be mean. And stop calling me Pretzel."
Apparently I still have a few tiny grade-school demons. We’ll be discussing those more a little later.
Oh yes. We will.
Posted
by The Amy @ 9:35 PM permalink
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Come on...give us some sugar
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