mine

« April 2007 | Main | June 2007 »

May 31, 2007

Is Spam funny anymore?

To some, spam was never funny. I am, of course referring to my fellow sysadmins and IT folk. For years now, we've been inundated with ads for sex, drugs and bad mortages - not exactly the triumverant we're accustomed to, but surely no one is ever surprised anymore.

Occasionally a spam message sneaks itself past my many spam filters and makes its way into my INBOX. When such a daring trip is made, I take the time to see how this message so cleverly connived my e-mail filters and I read it.

This one came a few days ago.

Could this be our worlds first uniting spam? Regardless of my race, size and age Penis?
Finally, we are brought together by our age penii.

Unity comes by some unamed product that will do *something* regardless of my limiting factors. Finally, I can belong.

In other news, another "Spam King" was busted and is being sent to jail. Let the sysadms rejoice.

Posted by lysa at 9:21 AM | Comments (4)

May 28, 2007

Tyra Banks is my new hero.

I can't believe I'm doing it. I'm home, on a Monday night watching a re-run of "The Tyra Banks Show". I know what you're thinking, I'm thinking it too - this is pathetic. But Tyra, crazy as she is, is actually broadcasting something very interesting. She's "investigating" how different cultures view bodytypes.

This "investigation" is no news to me. Every school research paper, be it Criminology, Math or English has been written to educate everyone who would read it about the gross unfairness of beauty in our society. Yes, you read correctly, I had research papers due in Math, and even then, I wrote about ninnies.

Tyra has a panel of 4 women: 1 Asian 1 Caucasion (and how i wish these fucking people would call themseves white) 1 Black and 1 Latina. Of course, the Asian woman and the White woman like the skinny, no butt, no boob size 0 women, and the Black and Latina woman believe that curves are better. They believe that a size 12 is not fat, a woman should have a booty and some boob. I'll try my best to stay on track here, because what they see as "big boobs" might be laughable.

Giggle ridden or not, I believe these expectations to be true. White women tend to think skinny is in, and I follow in suit, hating "the girls", eating salads, and desperately resisting the urge to confiscate the pie the boy next to me ordered at lunch.

It calms me to know, that not only am I gender confused, but now I know I'm the perfect weight/heght/booby size for any women who is not Asian or White.

Yeah, I'll get right on that.

Posted by lysa at 11:22 PM | Comments (3)

May 23, 2007

Keep your money in your mattress

Hey All,

Sorry for the delay in posts, I was in California. You'd think this post would be all about my trip: detailing how surreal it is to see a friend from high school get married. Maybe I would add a few paragraphs on how proud I was to see him and his new bride. Maybe I would have written all that and more. There might have been a picture, but all these wondrous events have taken a backseat to the travesty that occured the last time I checked my bank account. The people that I trust to save my money for me, have decided to relieve me of a substantial sum.

I checked my balance when I was in Vegas, about to buy this purse when the nice automated account balance checker let me know I had no money. None.

$0.00.

Turns out those money hording people decided they needed to ignore my request to take money out of my account next month, and take it out this month instead.

Remember that wedding I was telling you about, the one in California? That wedding required plane travel for 2, a rental car, a hotel room, a wedding present and food. That pretty much cleared out savings.

I spent the majority of the day on the phone with said institution who, in their defense, worked their asses of to get me my money back as quickly as possible.

You know when you hear that your "phone call will be recorded" - sometimes, that comes in very, VERY handy. After they played back my initial phone call, they realized they were in the wrong and my money will be back in my account tomorrow.

Runners up on my shit list:

Chinese School
Verizon
Best Buy
Cingular
Blockbuster

and of course

WalMart.

Posted by lysa at 4:55 PM | Comments (4)

May 15, 2007

How do you put your bra on?

I was chatting it up with my newly, partially incapacitated best friend the other day about how she's going to put her bra on with a broken arm. She said she just hooks it on the side and pulls it around.

I asked why she didn't just hook it in front and pull it around, and she said the thought had never occured to her. This struck me as odd, as it's my usual way of applying the titsling.

I wonder how much women are missing out on by not being more open about their dressing habits. For instance, do you think if I spoke to more women, one of them would be able to tell me how to protect my stockings against my seemingly mutant toe?

I bet, if women just talked more about things they assumed other women already knew, we'd all be a lot smarter.

I'll start:

...

Ok, so I have no useful tips - I'm a clueless gal, so I'll leave you with this: You're probably wearing the wrong sized bra. Get a professional fitting, you'll be very surprised at the result.

Posted by lysa at 10:07 AM | Comments (5)

May 13, 2007

The Benefits of the BooBoo

I don't follow the usual naming conventions on cell phones. For instance, my brother, let's call him Scott, is filed under Scott, Brother. My fellah is listed under "BooBoo".

This came in quite handy when we were on the LIRR on Friday going to a Met game. My fellah peeks at his phone, sees a missed call from me, and checks his messages. The message sounded something like this:

Hey, umm, Booboo? This is Ted, I'm assuming your going to SomePlace on the LIRR. Call me, you've left your (brand new, very expensive) phone on the train.

At this point, the BooBoo turns to me and says "where's your phone?"

I calmly look inside by bag where my trusty phone always is and exclaim "Shit!" in front of the 6 year old girl sitting right across from me.

I apologize of course, and try to get Good Samaritan on the phone.

It went down like this. Amtrak switched trains on us at the last minute. During the rush to get to the other train, I dropped my phone. Not much of a story, I know. Here's the good part!

We made arrangements with the good samaritan. He'll be calling BooBoo at 10am today to let him know where I can pick up the phone.

Any ideas what to get a seemingly well-to-do gentleman for being a decent human being? Bottle of wine?

The best part of the story is that the Mets won!
Let's Go Met's!

Posted by lysa at 9:33 PM | Comments (4)

May 10, 2007

Happy Feet

So, I left work last night at 4:30am. Before you ask, no, I don't have a night job. No, I was not trapped in a web of chocolate, and no, there was not an Indigo Girls concert.
In addition, I was not being seduced and held against my will by some adoring gentleman, unless of course, you count getting groovy with a group of programmers, which, in my case, might actually constitute a seduction.

Why then, would anyone be at work that late? Well, we had work to do, and that is, after all, why it's called work.

However, there are some perks to this crazy job of mine. For one, people tend to be understanding about these curcumstances. Another perk is the recent purchase of patio furniture my company has acquired. This acquisition brings me to another perk - we have an awesome roofdeck which makes working the occasional all-nighter, reasonable.

Look how happy my feet are!

Posted by lysa at 8:39 PM | Comments (5)

May 7, 2007

The Interview, submitted by "The Average Blogger"

Much obliged to The Average Blogger for not only replying to a perfect stranger, but in addition, for offering me cognitive development drills in the form of an interview for me to complete while I wait for lunch.

The way this works, is I commented on AB's blog, and AB sent me 5 questions. If you comment on this blog, and request that I interview you, I have to send you 5 questions that you must post the answers to (along with this lengthy explanation) on your blog.

Capice?

1: What is the saddest word in the English language?
Limited, as in "I am."

2: If you had a band, what would you call it? (Or do you have a band?)
Jello on Springs - stolen directly from "Some Like it Hot"

3: When going out on a date, (not a first date, just a date,) do you prefer nights out that are structured in nature -- dinner reservations, having to be at a theater at a set time, etc., -- or ones that free-flow from one event to the next, like a pub crawl?

I like things structured - it stinks to be all dressed up with no where to go. However, if we're on said scheduled date, and something cooler comes our way, i'd be totally in to ditch our plans and try something new.

4: Parking lot carnivals: Awesome fun and great rides? Or filthy and frightening deathtraps?

Awesome, totally cool, get-me-on-a-scrambler-and-I'll-love-you-forever, deathtraps!

5: You wake up late for work. Do you a: skip breakfast, b: skimp on the hair-makeup front, c: take your time and call in late, d: call in sick and try again tomorrow?: e: do something else? And if something else, what?

This is pretty funny because I don't do my hair or makeup. I also don't get breakfast on my way to work, which pretty much leaves calling/emailing in and letting the boss know I'll be late.

Posted by lysa at 12:42 PM | Comments (10)

May 6, 2007

Man, I was a downer.

I'll have you know, the original title of this post was "Wow, I really was a twat in my youth" But i'm still harboring fantasies that more than 4 people read this blog, and I thought maybe that would be a smidge offensive. Semantics aside, whether I was a twat, or a downer, or an all around bitch, the message is clear: I'm so glad I got over all that fucking misery.

You'd never know it if you met me now, but I really was a downer in my hay days. I realized this when I look at old pictures, or heavens to betsy, read old poetry (something no one should do, ever - why did we always rhyme life with strife? Horrid. ) but today it was really apparent when I went upstate to see some buddies.

When I went away to school, my goal wasn't to obtain an education, meet new people, or even party. My goal, the one and only, was to get out of my house. Today I went back to that college town and went up to the local mountain/lake and had an awakening. Why the hell wasn't I up there more often when I had the chance?

And the the answer hit me: I was a twat.

Surely, I was complaining about allergies, or nature, or the severe lack of concrete in the skyline, or something else that would make my having fun virtualy impossible.

I'm glad I can go back and relive my youth. Isn't this beautiful?

Posted by lysa at 9:50 PM | Comments (5)

May 3, 2007

Geronimo!

That's me, when I was about 5, maybe 6, or even, 7. I'm not sure. What I do know, is that I loved my Big Wheels.

I grew up in a project in Brooklyn, New York. For those of you familiar with the stigma of "The Projects", let me assure you, that when I was there it wasn't quite as dangerous as they are known/thought to be now, but scary enough that my mom paid someone to walk to me school everyday. I was in ignorant bliss about my surroundings.

My parents were lower middle class, a bus driver and a secretary, and they eventually saved enough money to move us out of the projects, and directly across the street. My story is not unique. In the early 70's there were plenty of families in their position. They were hard working people tryng to raise their kids. Amidst all the dysfunction of my family, it makes me happy to know, that I could always find a reason to smile.

Way before Action Park let us break, fracture and filet our bones, the Big Wheels was my primary source of injury. The projects had one thing going for it, and that was a shared park between several buildings. Every few buildings had it's own park, and the park was, undoubtably, at the bottom of a steep, paved hill. Seriously, could life get any better than that?

Scores of children who were lucky enough to have parents able to afford the Big Wheel, zoomed down with wild abandon and pulled that back brake up at the base of the hill. Skidmarks decorated each and every park entrance, and the wide eyes of a child were never far behind.

These were glorious times to be a child. Rain was our worst enemy, and "happy" could always be found tearing down a hill, on some wheeled plastic, hoping to take the 360 to the next level.

It's no wonder that I love to rollerblade or ride a bike. It's crystal clear why I have to stop at every swingset I see, put some tunes on, and feel wind through my hair.

Childhood doesn't have to end because we're too big for Big Wheels. Take a moment, feel the breeze, find a swingset and live.

Posted by lysa at 10:20 AM | Comments (5)

May 1, 2007

Some girls want ponies...

I want a stun gun. Badly. Unfortunately, I am a (mostly) law abiding citizen dwelling in NYC and it's illegal to carry one. What's worse, is that no one has had the decency to buy me one. It's like that stupid calorie bullshit, where cookies don't have calories if you're baking ( and eating ) them for someone else.

It's horseshit, I know, but I like having a stupid excuse handy when planning on breaking the law.
I figure, if someone *else* buys me one, I'm not *really* being deviant. I'm merely being polite by carrying it every where I go. I'm sure Miss manners would agree.

Anyhoo, someone out there in inventor land has solved my problem. Ladies and Gents, please introduce ""The Pink Stinger"

The Stinger is a tampon sized taser that shoots out its "cotton", which is actually the heads of the tasing mechanism, and tases your attacker (boss, brother, co-worker).
What officer of the law is going to believe someone has been tased by a tampon? I can see it now - some criminal who had the unfortunate instinct to fuck with me, getting tased by "The Pink Stinger". Seriously, how great it is that it's pink?

Now, if only my Pocket Rocket could serve a more sinister purpose than healing my lifelong condition of hysteria.

Picture borrowed from http://www.americaninventorspot.com/security_system

Posted by lysa at 4:21 PM | Comments (7)