Thursday, May 7, 2009

Rock On ... Rock Out

Much to my dismay, Creed has reunited to release a new album (do they still call them albums?) and go on tour this summer.

I don't care about the touring part, but I do care that my ears will be assaulted if I listen to the radio -- just as they were with this and this.

And what's with the Grateful Dead touring? How are they even still a band without Jerry Garcia? And who goes to those shows? I really don't get it.

There are, however, some tours that would interest me. Some are rumored, some are confirmed:
  • No Doubt - Go Gwen!!
  • Tom Petty & The Heartbreakers (Yeah!!!!! One of my favorite bands of all time)
  • U2 - never saw them, so they're on my list
  • The Stones -- Saw them, would definitely go again. I know at least one person who probably would too. (Ahem ... Los?)
I would also like to see Il Divo perform, but they seem more appropos for Christmas-time, for some reason.

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Stinker

A funny thing happened yesterday in the hallways of my office ....

As usual, I took my daily post-lunch excursion to our little gift shop for a bottle of water and a tootsie pop. The return route from the gift shop takes me down a long, dark hallway where the restrooms are located. Yesterday was no exception. (I wonder why our building maintenance people think we don't need lighting in a bathroom hallway? Every other spot in the building is bathed in blinding fluorescence. Hmm.)

Anyway, the cleaning lady walked down the hall in front of me, then stopped and parked her cart in front of the men's room. Everybody out, time for the afternoon scrub-down. She knocked on the door, and then I heard her say:

"Hi Stinker!"


Whoa horsey!! Back that one up. Hi Stinker? Stinker!?!?!?!

That one stopped me dead in my tracks. I was far enough past the scene to know she wasn't talking to me, but I turned around to look nonetheless. There was, in fact, a man coming out of the bathroom. He looked at her, then looked at me.

Dude, I did NOT call you "Stinker." Can you see she has a cell phone up to her ear? I hope so. I like to think "Stinker" is the nickname for whomever was on the other end of that phone call, but am guessing Bathroom Man may have a been a bit taken aback by the putrid greeting, and was probably a bit embarrassed. I would've been.

In fact, MORTIFIED probably would've been my reaction to the perfect storm of name-calling: 1) at work, 2) loud and in public, 3) upon emerging from some of the nastiest bathrooms in the tri-state area. (Note: Being called 'stinker' at home or amongst friends would be fine ... I've been called worse.)

But at work I'd be pretty embarrassed. Would someone hear her and incorrectly deduce that I am the one with a mid-afternoon ritual that thoroughly pollutes the restrooms rendering them unusable without gas masks and full-on riot gear? God forbid!

Is that what he thought? Did it even phase him? When he sees me in the hallway will he think "there's the girl that probably thinks I stunk up the men's room and got busted by the cleaning lady?"

Monday, May 4, 2009

Calling All Dream Analysts

The dream I had this morning is just too funny not to share. I know I won't do it justice because you really had to be in my head to see the visuals for the full effect, but here's a quickie recap:

So I was working in a gigantic high rise in Center City that looked like none that I've ever visited. Mirrored walls, funky music in the elevators .... much more Austin Powers than Liberty Place. It was fairly late at night, and for some reason everybody had to leave the building and go home at the same time.

I was pissed because Farrah Franklin (formerly of Destiny's Child) was holding up the line at the coat check while she and her entourage put on gigantic furry coats. Remember the big coats worn in "Coming to America" by the King of Zamunda and his family? Yeah, that's it. (She was probably in my dream because I watched an episode of "The Millionaire Matchmaker" yesterday afternoon where she was the featured millionairess looking for love.)

I patiently waited in the coat-check line with my "co-worker" Herbie. In non-dream life, Herbie a close friend from college whom I rarely get to see. I have no idea why he was in my dream ... go figure.

The coat check girl? One of my Facebook friends, Allison, who I have not seen since 7th grade. (Probably in my dream because I've spent too much time on Facebook lately.)

And to top of all off, Margaret Thatcher also made a cameo appearance in my dream. I was particularly annoyed with her because her coat had to be stored in a place where they needed one of those library ladders to get it. Then she moved v e r y v e r y s l o w l y, as she inspected her coat for any problems it may have incurred during it's stay in the plebe closet. The funniest thing about her was her hair was done up and molded into the shape of a crown and spray-painted silver. (Your guess is as good as mine on this one!)

Then my alarm clock went off and the crazy dream was over. Damn. I was actually enjoying that one.

Any dream analysts out there who wanna take a crack at that one?

Sunday, May 3, 2009

I'm Doing an Indian Rain Dance

Well, my Derby bets didn't pan out, but that's okay. I got to wear my fancy hat and it was an exciting race, nonetheless.

Moving on to today's plans ...... I have tickets to see the Phillies play the Mets this afternoon. Sounds great, eh? It would be, and I'd already be decked out in my Phillies gear walking down to the stadium to wander around for a few hours before the game, BUT ...

... it's 56degrees and rainy outside.

Boo hiss. What is it with me this weekend? I can't catch a break.

At this point, I'm crossing my fingers for an all out downpour so they cancel the game before I even think about whether I should bother going to the ballpark. Even if it doesn't downpour, it's going to be rainy and cold all day.

The big question is: Will it rain hard enough for them to cancel the game?

The forecast says increasing rain throughout the afternoon, but I really need for it to begin by noon and be really heavy. With thunder, lightning, and hail. Worst case scenario is that it continues to drizzle, just enough to play the required innings and torture any fans devout enough to brave the weather. I don't think I'm that brave. I don't like sitting in cold rain.

If my luck over the past few days is any indication of what will happen, it'll keep drizzling on and off and the game will go on, as scheduled. There'll be no replacement ticket, and my choice will be: a) suck it up and watch the game in the rain; or b) stay home and forget about the tickets.

Here is my game plan:
  • I am now going outside to my backyard to do my best version of an Indian Rain Dance.
  • Next, I'll sit down at my piano and sing a round of "I hope raindrops don't start falling on my head."
  • And if all else fails, I'll opt for Plan B.

Saturday, May 2, 2009

Betting on the Derby

Today I'm going to be watching the Derby and betting on some horses. It's a little tough because there's no clear favorite, but that makes it quite interesting. For a better, it means better odds. I'm not trying to make a living from this, but it's fun to put a few dollars on the race.

Here are my Derby bets:

$1 Exacta Box (a $20 bet that 2 of these horses will finished 1st and 2nd)
6 - Friesan Fire
7 - Papa Clem
11 - Chocolate Candy
12 - General Quarters
15 - Dunkirk

$2 to Win, Place, Show (a $6 bet) on #11, Chocolate Candy.

10cent Superfecta Box (a $2.40 bet that these 4 horses will finish in the top 4 positions, in any order)
6 - Friesan Fire
11 - Chocolate Candy
15 - Dunkirk
19 - Desert Party

I'm not betting on Pioneer of the Nile (one of the top 2 contenders) because he's never raced on a dirt track and his times are compartively slow. Who knows, he could blow everybody away, but these reasons are good enough for me to rule him out.

By the way, I'm no handicapper and I don't have ESP (just ESPN). If you choose to make these bets along with me, don't complain to me if you lose your $28.40. But if you win ... well that's another story.

Chloe is a Loser

Last night I went out to dinner with my friends Mira, Anthony, Sonj, and Scott to a restaurant in Old City (a section of Philadelphia) called Chloe BYOB.

None of us had ever been there but heard the food was excellent, and being a bunch of foodies we elected this spot for the gathering of our little dinner club.

There were some good points, which I'll share, but ultimately I will NEVER go back and will tell everyone I know and don't know they should never patronize this place.

The good:
  • The macaroni and cheese was the best I've ever had. Hands down, it was the #1 food choice at the table. It's baked and served in a little ramekin with a browned truffled crisp on the bottom of the dish. If you ever saw the episode of Top Chef where the guy made a truffle mac and cheese -- this was it.
  • The menu is small, but delicious, and there is a daily specials menu that will blow your socks off. We order a couple of appetizers that came a very close second to the mac and cheese.
  • One was a homemade gnocchi topped with a ragout of pork, beef and duck. The other appy we really liked was baked oysters topped with bacon, cheeses, and sumpin sumpin that tasted like a party in my mouth.
  • It's a BYOB, which I always love. We brough 5 bottles of wine plus a bottle of dessert wine. Scott picked out the dessert wine, Essentia, which was absolutely delicious. I'll be looking for that next time I'm at the liquor store.

The bad:
  • The ribs were terrible. I've had better ribs at Lone Star, where they fall off the bone. Not only did the meat not fall off the bone, but I felt like a savage beast trying to eat them. And not enough sauce on them to compensate for the extreme char. Very bad.
  • Some of the people at the table liked the salad, but I thought it was terrible (except for the goat cheese pancake on top.) It tasted like a pile of grass and didn't have any salad dressing on it. Terrible, as in inedible.

The Ugly (aka why I'll shout from the mountaintops not to go here):
  • We had barely finished our dessert and were drinking the last of our wine, when the owner/manager came over and asked us to leave. Um, what? We just spent $450 in your restaurant, we're not finished and you're asking us to leave? Yes, because people are waiting and they need the table.
  • To that, I say a big eff you!! There were open tables, and we weren't finished. And even if we were, why would you EVER treat your customers like that? Not only did they ask us to leave, but then they got nasty and indignant about it -- I thought there was gonna be a brawl in this teensy tiny place. We got up and left, with a few parting words outside that were not so nice. I was and still am completely baffled by this. Assholes.

See, the thing about dining in Philadelphia is this: there are hundreds of really excellent restaurants. Lots and lots of choices ... each one, better than the last. The competition is stiff, so it's not enough just to have good food, the service must also be impeccable. If the entire dining experience from top to bottom isn't flawless, there's no reason to ever go back.

I'm appalled by the way these people treated us after spending our time and money in their business. To her credit, our server was wonderful and very apologetic, but it wasn't enough to erase the major faux pas of the management.

So Chloe gets a unanimous 2 thumbs down. All of us agreed we'd never go back.

Friday, May 1, 2009

I'm Having A Little Temper Tantrum

I'm having some serious motivational issues this morning. Everyone I work with in Kentucky is enjoying the Derby festivities, and today is the big Kentucky Oaks race. Most people are off, but I'm here in Philadelphia holding down the virtual fort.

Here are some things I'd rather do today instead of going to work:
  • Watch a car rust
  • Hang upside down from the clothesline (if I had one) by my toenails
  • Scrub the toilet
  • Go to the Walmart in South Philly (which, as you may know, is the most horrific place on the planet)
  • Get blood drawn
  • Watch CSI Miami (okay, I take that back)
  • Rub my face with a ball of cat fur
  • Touch a raw chicken
  • Walk into a random fart in the grocery store

OK, now that I've gotten that sorta out of my system it's time to suck it up and go. On the bright side, today is one of the few days I'll actually get to head out of the office for lunch. Sushi with Schue is always good.

Thank you for indulging me and my temper tantrum.