What's with these Pajama Jeans?

Have you heard about Pajama Jeans?  I just recently saw an infomercial for them.  For those of you not “in the know” about these things, Google it.  I’ll wait.

Now that we’ve all seen them, I’m confused (not always hard to achieve in case you’re wondering).

A pair cost $39.95 plus shipping and handling of $7.95 for a grand total of $47.90.  I can buy really nice jeans that fit me very well at JCPenny (LOVE that store!) for about $21.99 during a sale.  Granted, sales tax will run me an extra $1.23 for a grand total of $23.22.  Shit, that’s half the cost!

But wait, there’s more!  If I order today, I get a “free” grey t-shirt.  They call the “outfit” a $100 value.  Honestly? The t-shirt is worth $60.05?  Oh goodie, just what I need.  Meh.

Their website says to allow 4-6 weeks for delivery.  Hmmm, if I go to my local store I can have my ‘normal’ jeans almost instantly.  I may have to wait in a checkout line for a couple of minutes though.

They offer a 60 day guarantee.  I can just skip buying the jeans after I try them on in the store if they don’t fit.  Or, I can return them quite quickly (with no extra shipping charges) if I decide I don’t like them or the way the look on me.  What to do, what to do?

The infomercial says “It’s a struggle to get into regular jeans.”  Ummm, no.  I buy the right size and they slide right on!  They even button.  Miracle of miracles.

Pajama Jeans are called stylish and sexy.  Really?  Sweatpants (or pajamas as they call them) are stylish?  Sexy?  Really, really?  Not so much.

I will give them some credit.  They do have sizes to 3X.  That’s the way to go in today’s crazy eating, getting to be obese world (of which, sadly, I’m a part).  They do have small sizes (as low as size 4) for those of you that are thin.  So, they’ve got that covered.  Good for them.

Confusion abounds.  Why do I need a pair?  Why would I pay that much for sweatpants?  Why would I wait that long to get them?  Do I need a grey t-shirt that badly?

And one last question:  Will I order a pair?  I can definitively say NO.

Elevator Etiquette

I work on the 24^th floor of a 33 story office building.  The parking structure I use is in the same building and occupies ten of the floors.  I need to take two elevators two times a day, one to exit/enter the parking structure and one to/from the 24^th floor.

Let’s discuss elevator etiquette shall we?

ü      When the elevator door opens, WAIT for the people on it to exit.  Don’t jump in there and plow the exiting passengers over.  No courtesy = you are an ass.

ü      If someone on the elevator says “hello” or “good morning/afternoon” to you, say it back.  Otherwise, you look like a cranky ass.

ü      Don’t fart in an elevator.  We are all trapped in there and don’t want to deal with your stink bomb(s)!  Don’t be a smelly ass (literally).

ü      If there are a lot of people on the elevator and it stops to let more on, move towards the back and closer to your fellow passengers.  Don’t stand like a brick wall and force everyone else to shuffle around you.  You aren’t that important, you ass.

ü      Don’t sigh loudly if your floor is higher than mine and I press a button that makes you stop (for a few seconds) on my floor.  That makes me move veeeery slowly when I exit!  I become an ass (but you deserve it).

ü      Don’t talk about very personal things with your co-workers or friends.  I don’t want to hear about the new rash you just discovered.  I don’t want to hear about the great (or bad) sex you had last night.  I don’t want to hear about your new hair plugs or boob job.  Please keep this stuff to yourself.  If you don't, you sound like a self-centered ass.

ü      If someone is carrying a ton of stuff and their arms/hands are full, ask “what floor?” and push the damn button!  Bad manners = you are an ass.

CAN STOP BEING AN ASS!

Intelligent or not so much?

I work for a relatively small company with just over 50 employees.  Most of us work in a nice office in a “fancy schmancy” downtown building.  Many of us have college degrees and several people have a master’s degree.  I, along with many of my co-workers, have hard to get but required licenses in our field.

Why is it that many of the well educated, intelligent men in this firm can’t put paper in a printer?

I’ve been here for almost 20 years and I’ve witnessed this often:

Smarty Pants Man (standing in front of printer with a quizzical look on his face):  “I think this printer might be out of paper.” 

Female Employee:  “The paper is right under the printer in the cabinet it’s sitting on.”

SPM:  “What?  Where?”

FE:  “Right there, right under the printer.”

SPM (not really looking for the paper):  “If I can even find it, where does it go?”

FE:  “In the paper drawer.  That’s right underneath where your printed documents come out.”

SPM:  “I still don’t see the paper.  There’s a drawer on a printer?”

FE:  “You’ll see a ‘handle’ that you can pull on to open the drawer and put the paper in.  The paper’s right there in that cabinet”

SPM:  “I don’t see it.”

FE:  “The drawer or the paper?”

SPM stands there looking around as if things will magically get done.

At this point, the Female Employee jumps out of her chair or office, gets the paper out and puts it in the printer with Smarty Pants Man looking on.  She usually always shakes her head as she walks away.

Putting paper in a printer is not rocket science brain surgery difficult.  I used to think about how dumb these men are.  After all these years, I’ve come to a different conclusion.  They know exactly what they are doing and want someone else to do what they consider to be the “crummy” work. 

Maybe a lot more intelligent than I first thought?  I’d bet.

The Packers better beat the Bears today. - UPDATED

That is all.

Hey you Bears, you're gonna lose!

Go Pack!

Update:

WE WIN, WE WIN, WE WIN!!  SUPER BOWL XLV, HERE WE COME!

He ruined it for me!

I have always been a huge fan of amusement parks.  I have very fond memories of visiting Marriott’s Great America (now Six Flags) many, many times during the summer.  I continued to go all the way through college.  I was also lucky enough to visit Disney World two times with my family when I was a kid.

I loved, loved, loved the rides!  Toss me on anything that twirled, swung, or dropped and I was happy as a clam.  Roller coasters were my favorite and when the developers started adding loops, I was overjoyed.

Thanks to Angry, that all changed. 

On our third date (over 21 years ago) we went to a local church for a festival.  We had a great time doing what one does at church festivals:  eating lots of food, drinking beer, enjoying live music, playing games, and riding rides. 

Angry bought a bunch of a ton of a million tickets for the rides.  After the fourth or fifth go around on the Tilt-a-Whirl, I felt a little woozy.  I told him I’d had enough.  He held up the remaining tickets and said with a frown, “I’ve still got tickets left. We can’t let these go to waste!”  I gave in to that poor, pathetic looking face and figured one more ride would be alright. 

It was the longest, most sickening ride of my life.  I begged him to stop the bucket from spinning the entire time, “Pleeeeeease make it stop!”  When it was finally over, I made it to the exit and tossed my cookies!

Angry took me home to clean up.  I figured since I’d thrown up, that was going to be our last date.  We’ve been together ever since so true love must transcend puke.

From that moment on, I could no longer ride in or on anything that spins or drops.  Sadly, my beloved roller coasters became a thing of the past. 

He ruined it for me!  I guess I forgive him.

Farting = Funny?

I'm in my 40s.  Supposedly that means I'm a mature, mellow, and secure woman.  That’s what “they” say anyway. 

Angry and I bought our first smart phones this summer.  We’ve had a great time searching for cool apps and games for those phones. 

As a supposed mature woman, can someone explain to me why I take great joy in the farting component of my favorite app, Talking Tom Cat? 



Isn't he cute?

When I open the app, the very first thing I do is press the fart button.  I giggle like a little school girl when I hear him let loose.  Obviously, the cartoon character makes it even more humorous.  He lifts his leg and tail to squeeze the farts out.  He also looks around guiltily like he hopes no one heard him.  The farts are a little different each time you press the button (farting randomness!).  And, the phone vibrates in your hand when he farts.  It's funny  HILARIOUS!!  Just thinking about it makes me smile and want to giggle. 

Quite often I’ll open the app and fart for the hell of it (Angry usually shakes his head and rolls his eyes).  Giggles ensue and I sometimes say to him, “Take that!”  

What the hell is wrong with me?  Whatever it is; I’m not sure I want to fix it.

Who sings in the shower?

I’m lucky to have married someone who has a great singing voice.  Angry enjoys belting out a tune and I love to hear him do it.  He sings a lot.  Sometimes I think he’s talking to me but I don't hear him clearly.  When I ask him what he said, he tells me: “Nothing, I was just singing.”

One of my favorite things in the world is hearing him sing in the shower (the acoustics are great!).  What I find interesting is his strange way of mashing his musical choices together.  He may start with a snippet of Nelly followed by a few bars of Elvis.  Then, he’ll suddenly break into some Johnny Cash with a little bit of Motley Crue tossed in for good measure.  Sometimes he even hums music that doesn’t have lyrics (maybe something from the Big Band Era).  I often ask him: “Where did that come from?”  His usual response is: “I don’t know; it just popped into my head.”

It’s almost an adventure to see (or should I say hear?) where his songs will go.  One that puts a smile on my face and joy in my heart.

Celery is evil.

You may be asking yourself “why?”  Or maybe not.  Either way, please allow me to explain:

1.   It tastes yucky gross horrible!  I feel the taste is like old sweat socks if you dared to eat them.

2.   It’s an ugly shade of green.  I am a big fan of the color green.  I own lots of green clothing and several pairs of green shoes.  But celery is the most unappealing, almost sickening, shade.

3.   It smells funny.  Sort of like a cross between old wet grass and puke.

4.   It is stringy.  Who really wants to get those strings caught between their teeth?

5.   People try to “jazz it up” with things like peanut butter and Cheese Whiz.  If it’s so great, why the need to add stuff to it?

6.   It spoils a pretty plate of chicken wings.  What’s the use?  If you need something to cool the heat, use the blue cheese dressing!

These wings would rock if the celery was gone.

 My Grandma used to add celery to almost everything she cooked.  I'd constantly remind her of my disdain for it.  She would say: "You can't even taste it."  Then why use it?  She'd also say: "It adds crunch."  In soup?  Not so much.


I can find the most minuscule piece of celery in any food item you place in front of me.  I can taste it and smell it in ANYTHING.  I spend inordinate amounts of time picking it out of stuff.


Stop the madness.  Outlaw celery immediately.

A really good weekend or a really bad weekend?

I pulled into the parking garage in my office building very early this morning (before 5 am).  Something caught my eye and I thought to myself, "What kind of animal gets into a 10 story parking garage in a Downtown office building and gets itself run over?"

Upon exiting my car, I noticed that this "thing" I saw wasn't really an expired animal after all.

Good god; it was someone's hair weave!!  And yes, for blogging purposes, I stopped to take a photo.

Was it a good weekend or a bad weekend?  From the look of things, I'd say bad.  Very, very bad.

Taking My Fortunes Too Literally?

I had two fortune cookies at lunch today.  I LOVE them.  I will try to enlighten you, dear readers, by telling you that these make a good snack or dessert at only 30 calories and 0 fats each.

I read my fortunes and I have some questions.

"You are going to have a very comfortable old age."
Comfy how?  A nice chair to sit in?  Good, arthritis free joints?  A warm blankie when it's cold in the house?  Lots of money to buy shoes and other necessities?
How old is old?  Do I have to wait until I'm in my 90s or will it be sooner?

"Everything will now come your way."
What's everything and how's it coming?  Some good movies delivered by Netflix?  A giant check delivered by Publishers Clearing House?  New shoes delivered by UPS?  Money falling from trees (where I wish it did actually grow)?  Some cute new clothes from a favorite store (hmmm. . . I think that means I'd have to go get those instead of them "coming" my way)?
What defines now?  Will it all come my way this instant?

Am I taking these things too literally?  I think not.  I believe I have legitimate questions that need to be answered.  And don't forget, I haven't even added the necessary "in bed" to the end of these things.  I am certainly not going THERE now.  That will create even more questions that are probably best left unasked.

I swear like a drunken sailor!

Please don’t take any offense all you drunken sailors out there!

I've never been one to mince words, even if they include some of the four letter type.  I am careful to keep the colorful language to a minimum when I'm out and about in public (especially if kids are around).  I tend to swear mainly when I'm in my office at work or at home.

The biggest reason I drop an eff-bomb or two (or 100), is sports.  While I'm watching or listening to my favorite sports teams, I become an emotional wreck.  If the game isn't going the way I think it should be, I become agitated and tend to swear like crazy a drunken sailor.  Eff-bombs spout faster than oil was gushing from BP's well.  I also, much to the chagrin of my hubby (a/k/a Angry), do a lot of fist pumping and use a very loud voice.  Timid and meek, I'm not.

Bad as this may be (at least for those around me); I've also become just as emotional while watching sports teams that mean virtually nothing to me.  I can watch an NFL, MLB, NBA, or NCAA game with teams in games that don't affect my team or division and still get way too emotionally involved.  It's the same eff-bomb, fist pumping, and loud voice scenario. 

I think I need some "help."  Angry explains to me that "it's just a game" over and over.  How do I adjust and stop this silliness?  I don't think that will ever happen.  I'll keep the eff-bomb brigade alive and well!