tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-59852048424768693162024-03-13T17:09:22.541-07:00... as I see itandreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.comBlogger106125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-39292391329668806322010-07-01T21:58:00.000-07:002010-07-01T21:58:47.723-07:00Oops...I <i>totally</i> forgot I had a blog! andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-80470725346110655452010-01-22T13:58:00.000-08:002010-01-22T15:04:08.911-08:00Speaking Of...I'm going to play a fun game and YOU get to... read as I play. You'll figure out the game because you're smart... and if you can't figure it out - then get off my blog.<br /><br />So it's been VERY stormy... unusually stormy... here in the OC. And you all know how <a href="http://andreapetty.blogspot.com/2008/12/its-raining-in-oc.html">I feel about OC people and rain.</a> I personally love the rain - being from Texas, it's familiar and homey. I will admit that at first I was a little nervous about it, but that lasted, oh until 1 minute after the pouring started. And it's been a blast laughing at people all week who aren't used to it... they even closed down college classes so that the students didn't have to walk in the "pouring rain." PUH-LEASE!! How are these kids going to learn how to take care of themselves? Anyway... so today the rain followed me... literally. I had to go out in the lovely cloudy bliss to run errands for work. I started about 8 miles north of my office. As soon as I parked, it started POURING and little hail balls came from the sky (and of course every facebook status of friends nearby displays "HAIL!!"... with pictures. The hail balls were the size of a pea). I watched and waited for it to let up before walking in the rain. Then I stopped for gas about 3 miles north of my office. For all you non-mathematicians, I drove 5 miles north toward my office... not that that matters. (I've always been incredibly annoying about the details in my story-telling. I've learned to accept it and I encourage you to as well... you'll like me more.) As I'm pumping gas, it started POURING and little hailing again. By the time I left the gas station it stopped. Then I stopped to pick up my lunch right by my office. And as soon as I parked, guess what? Yep, it started POURING and little hailing again. It made me chuckle and want to say aloud "Hi Hail! I JUST saw all your little brothers and sisters up in Mission Viejo! How was your descent?" But I refrained because I remembered they wouldn't be able to answer me and that would get really annoying!<br /><br />SPEAKING OF hail... when I was in college my 1993 red Pontiac Grand Am got hammered by softball size hail, causing $3000.00 worth of damage. Is that how you say it? $3000.00 worth? It caused damage worth $3000? My insurance company had to pay the body repair shop $3000 to fix it? Which is correct? Oh hail... who cares...<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWUw0NMbuJfebqT3eIsJffoX7LZrfzwJlk2l2ZE4DsCBC5iAcOnFflvLej-cYkazbSumR2ycHYQP4Iwy1Z2H-FeS0BnMDV4k94SAtI7vyTMQ5AZjmvULK2bnDyifWDXpb1nx-ojXEhJV-T/s1600-h/Grand+Am.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 150px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWUw0NMbuJfebqT3eIsJffoX7LZrfzwJlk2l2ZE4DsCBC5iAcOnFflvLej-cYkazbSumR2ycHYQP4Iwy1Z2H-FeS0BnMDV4k94SAtI7vyTMQ5AZjmvULK2bnDyifWDXpb1nx-ojXEhJV-T/s200/Grand+Am.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429695711754522130" border="0" /></a><br /><br />SPEAKING OF my Red Pontiac Grand Am (you're already catching on!)... that thing was a PIECE! At first I thought it was super cool because it looked way better than my 1986 Chevy Nova... but after the 4th alternator in 6 weeks one year, I was over it! I named it Grand-Ma... Get it? Grand-AM... Grand-MA. Because it ran like a Grandma and it was red like a Granny Smith Apple. But then I learned that Granny Smith apples are only green and thank God Grand-Ma wasn't green because then I would have REALLY hated it!<br /><br />SPEAKING OF Grandmas... I was called a "Bitch" by a Grandma at the grocery store the other day... well, I'm assuming she's a grandma... she was like 80. She ran over me with her cart but stopped while the wheel was still on my foot (she ran it into the shelf which is what stopped it)... and she hung on to the cart. It hurt! So I say patiently "Excuse me, you're on..." Then she sighed loudly and turned her head away from me (but held on to the cart). I kept trying pull my foot out but it wasn't budging. So I say again (with a little less patience) "Umm.. You're on my foot." Nothing. Nada. She just stood there trying to find the beans she was looking for. "Ma'am, you're on my foot!" I say sternly. She then growl-sighed and rolled forward while also rolling her eyes and says, "Bitch!" I didn't say anything. I just sat there with a look of disbelief. I gave Granny the benefit of the doubt while I bent down and gave my foot a little "<span style="font-style: italic;">I </span>care" tlc.<br /><br />SPEAKING OF TLC (this is fun!)... my old co-worker was on a show on TLC called "This Is Why You're Single." It was kind of like a cheesy intervention show where all of her friends and family waited in a room where she thought she was going to be interviewed. Then they all had to go around and say "______ is why you're single." Then she is supposed to learn from it and go on a blind date the next day and apply what she learned. ISN'T THAT HORRIBLE? What a stupid show.<br /><br />SPEAKING OF being single... my friend, <a href="http://megancarson.com/">Megan</a>, is a published author of a book called <span style="font-style: italic;">A Year of Blind Dates</span>. It chronicles her, well... year of blind dates. It's funny, brilliant, honest... a great read! I'm so proud of her! You can order it off of Amazon! Go do it!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ic0Gt0gmWk9WCLUxmT0pzwI_rgyNiU3nk7fwGrZ3kQPVpJABoQmznX0O6vMeuk5kt96FQuvmzeHnGPkdfLGGeVWoipkOTV6Xc9ZZyoygZOfoR4PuD_QqxMDZCBTwCTR-pJN5MMk9xVyd/s1600-h/a+year+of+blind+dates.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 100px; height: 155px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2ic0Gt0gmWk9WCLUxmT0pzwI_rgyNiU3nk7fwGrZ3kQPVpJABoQmznX0O6vMeuk5kt96FQuvmzeHnGPkdfLGGeVWoipkOTV6Xc9ZZyoygZOfoR4PuD_QqxMDZCBTwCTR-pJN5MMk9xVyd/s200/a+year+of+blind+dates.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5429701911415841410" border="0" /></a><br /><br />SPEAKING OF funny, brilliant, honest and a great read... wasn't this blog post game totally fun?!?!andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-63712547114781032842010-01-20T09:59:00.001-08:002010-01-22T09:48:37.672-08:00So.... I'm Back... Maybe... I mean, Kinda...It's been like a year... I know. And I understand if you've left me and are never coming back. I mean, I think you're incredibly rude if that's the case (give a girl a chance!)... but I understand. And I know that some of you might be expecting an apology... something like: "I'm so sorry I haven't blogged. It's been (enter a meaningless excuse)." Well, I'm sorry to disappoint. There will be no apology. There are many reasons I have not blogged... I don't feel a need to explain it... and I don't feel a need to apologize for it. And I'm not going to make promises to internet-land that I'll write every day, every week or every month. I know what I WANT to do, and that's that. So, now that we're all on the same page...<br /><br />I was going to write a blog catching you up on my life since my last post. But, I'm not going to do that either (I know! I'm such a little witch!). Mainly because I don't want to diminish the meaningful happenings over the last year into bullet points. (But I did gain a <a href="http://gregandalissa.blogspot.com">precious little blue-eyed nephew</a> AND I've fallen {deeply} in love with a man you ALL would just adore). You'll be able to catch up on your own because you're smart like that. Kind of like starting 24 mid-season... It'll take you 2 or 3 episodes, but you'll get it. If it were like LOST on the other hand...<br /><br />What I will say in today's post is Thank GOD Michelle was sent home on the Bachelor! That girl was out of her mind CRAZY! Like, stalker-crazy. She made me all squirmy every time she talked or glared at the other girls.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCK2bnVP9ag6jEN226E2cicyE9xFCfG-8Yf9Bg2L5LAqFeYrjuk830vXwgdQXWzmA8Kybpvflu4nxK5EUApVUTeXyAAHlS3yUmgkrF3-ySQ-7AQdgeho1wCQoOrN7QL3TscK7QTlcbloan/s1600-h/michelle.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 180px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCK2bnVP9ag6jEN226E2cicyE9xFCfG-8Yf9Bg2L5LAqFeYrjuk830vXwgdQXWzmA8Kybpvflu4nxK5EUApVUTeXyAAHlS3yUmgkrF3-ySQ-7AQdgeho1wCQoOrN7QL3TscK7QTlcbloan/s320/michelle.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428902018262170146" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I know... trash, right?<br /><br />You're totally judging me. Now you're <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> not going to come back!<br /><br />Well I, Andrea, watch this trashy show. But so does my roommate, Cathi. And in OUR defense, we watch it (only) together and laugh through most of it... especially when they play awesome songs like Jeffrey Osborne's "On the Wings of Love" while soaring through the air in an airplane. (I had to look that up because I kept wanting to write Joe Cocker, but I knew it wasn't his.) We're convinced that the show's producer's are like 70 years old... and they're single, living through the bachelor on his dates... because who else would play "On the Wings of Love" and be such an amnesiac that they forget that they JUST did a helicopter date! (Seriously... there is at least one helicopter in every show!) Oh, we have a whole shpeel conjured up about the behind-the-scenes stuff.<br /><br />Just like you're all still conjuring up my reasons for leaving Blogland right now... Get over it! I'm back, okay!andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-14754247034285141592008-12-20T21:36:00.000-08:002008-12-20T21:43:43.441-08:00Talk About an Eye Roller!This is a really horrible commercial. And I shouldn't have to explain why. The last line is my fave.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="344"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AYRDSniLVZo&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AYRDSniLVZo&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="425" height="344"></embed></object><br /><br />ps - Thanks, dude, for displaying who the "artist" is throughout the entire commercial. Can't wait to look him up and see what other magic he has for us.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-84845915786173107602008-12-19T14:54:00.000-08:002008-12-20T10:39:44.537-08:00Plea LetterDear Shops of M.V. Manager or whomever this affects the most:<br /><br />We have a problem. Now, I'm all about solving problems, so I will offer the solution.<br /><br />The problem: the kiosks, namely the Kiosk Sales People (let's call them the KSP)... you know, the ones up and down every inch of the bottom floor in your mall. You know, the ones who step in front of you, mid-stride, to ask "Can I ask you a question?" And no matter how friendly you say, "Not now, thanks," they continue with something stupid like, "You don't want shiny, luxurious locks?" You know, right?<br /><br />The solution: Please be a dear and kindly remove them. Please.<br /><br />Your Valued Customer,<br />andrea<br /><br />ps - Could you also do something about the pungent scent that wafts out of Abercrombie and into every nook and cranny in your mall?andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-44345526131228924782008-12-17T09:48:00.000-08:002008-12-17T13:32:15.265-08:00It's Raining in the OC*This post is long. But, get over it. I promise it's worth reading.<br /><br />So, it's raining here in the OC. That's very uncommon... very. Now, being a Texas girl, I love it. I love the change, love the gloom, love the sound of the constant rhythm of the water tapping on the wet concrete. Memories of splashing around in puddles flood my mind. I remember huddling with my sister under the plaid umbrella I loved so dearly. I remember pinching the crap out of my finger every time I went to close it. I remember having to play "Heads Up - Seven Up" during recess. I remember Lance Woods cheating every time. I remember my sister falling in the mud as she ran to make the bus. I remember sitting in our suburban at the bus stop while it rained all around us, even though we were only two houses away from the bus stop. Literally, two houses away. I remember our front yard would often flood creating The Petty Lake (we were so clever).<br /><br />But what I think it absolutely hilarious... like, knee-slapping, side-splitting, bust-a-gut funny (ewww... I just realized how horribly violent that is)... are the people's reactions here. Y'all, it would appear as though a tsunami has hit. Or better yet... Armageddon in the form of raindrops. This morning on the news, the segue into the weather portion went like this: flashes of photos of lightning, people being blown away against forceful winds, palm trees being uprooted, power lines crashing down creating thousands of sparks, with these spoken words, "For all severe weather updates, stay tuned to ABC 7... LA and Orange County's weather leader." Then a brief moment of anxiety-driven tones/beats and "Storm Watch 2008" all but comes to life on the screen before Dallas Raines (yes, that's our weatherman's name) comes on to talk about the severity of this weather. Ok, let's gain some perspective, folks. Severe weather?? Really?! Severe weather??? IT'S RAINING!! I understand that because of the flash of photos you just threw up, it would appear to be severe... but let's be honest, those weren't even photos from LA OR Orange County. IT'S ONLY RAINING! And now Dallas Raines (have to say his full name) is telling us to "stay inside unless we have to go out." Really, Dallas Raines? Stay inside? Why? For fear that a few measly little raindrops will decide to go rogue and form an all-out attack? I don't get it? IT'S JUST RAINING. Oh, also he tells me it's "really cold out there. So bundle up!" IT'S 51*!!!! 51!! Cold is what the mid-west is facing with the below 0 temps. 51 is not cold, it's "colder than we're used to," but it's not cold.<br /><br />Then, I get on the road with a bunch of these people who have spent the morning on Storm Watch 2008 listening to Dallas Raines. This is already an anxiety-filled town... the last thing they needed this morning was Dallas Raines talking about rain. Again, folks, road rules don't change just because it's raining. Sure, slow down a little... maybe break a little sooner, but what is up with the swerving? Are you swerving around the little puddles? Because you do realize that your car is larger than those puddles? Relax... look at your knuckles... they're snow-white from gripping the steering wheel. Yes, your child can see the rain hitting your car, you don't need to continue to point to it as though it's a blink-or-you'll-miss phenomenon.<br /><br />And then you hear about the severity of the weather all the livelong day. "Man, it's POURING out there!" No, it's raining. Just raining. Pouring is when you have to pull over because you can't see no matter the speed of your wipers. "This weather makes me want to snuggle with my blanket and watch Love Actually as I sip on hot chocolate." Got nothing cynical to say about that... that sounds nice. "This weather is weird. It's kinda like end-of-the-world weather." Who did you get that idea from? Dallas Raines? IT'S RAINING!! We are not dying! It's only water. It is not infested with an unknown virus. It's just raining. Breathe. It's only rain. This too shall pass.<br /><br />And it seems as though some people have taken Dallas Raines up on his offer. Because out of the 25 people who work here, 1/5 of them did not come in yesterday or today. "The rain made them sick." Really?! The <span style="font-style: italic;">rain</span> made you sick? What happened? Did you sleep out in the rain all night? And even if you did, do you honestly believe that the <span style="font-style: italic;">rain</span> is what made you sick? Really? I mean, don't you think Seattle-ites (Seattle-ins? what is it?) would be in a constant state of "ill" if <span style="font-style: italic;">RAIN</span> is what makes us sick. Seriously, folks. IT'S JUST RAINING! Oh, but the dear in my office swears the rain gave her a migraine for 2 days. Yes, a 2-day migraine from the rain. (I happen to think it's because of all the chocolate she's been inhaling, but I'm no doctor). So today is her first day back after the rain-induced migraine. She loves details, so at 8:45 am this morning she tells me exactly how she's been treating this headache. First she says, "... even Dallas Raines says this weather can get you sick..." WHOA! Whoa! Whoa! Dallas Raines? Who the hell is this man and why is everyone acting like he's some all-knowing god? He's a weatherman... on the morning news... who explains what the colors on the screen mean and he pushes his hands around thin air to try to show which direction this "storm" is moving. And he READS A PROMPTER! Anyway, back to the 2-day, rain-induced migraine. So Dallas Raines confirms that indeed this is the worst form of migraine to have. So she laid in bed for 2 days straight and took "800mg of IBM every 6 hours." Really?! IBM? Well, honey, that explains your migraine. It's not the rain that caused it... anyone who swallows computers and printers to treat a headache is going to heighten the pain. Welcome back.<br /><br />But now she's perplexed. "What do I do with my umbrella now," she asks. "It's really wet and I don't want to keep it closed in case it gets moldy, but you know what they say about opening umbrellas indoors." What are we? 7 years old? As she walks off, umbrella dripping, she turns and says, "Hey, Andrea! What do I do when my car glidroplanes? Or is is skidroplanes? Is it best to brake before or after?" Huh?! Glidroplane? Skidroplane? I don't know. "You know, when your car like glides in the water puddles." HYdroplane... she meant hydroplane. That question totally helped me understand the swerving around the water puddles thing: people here don't know how to drive in the rain. They just don't. And unfortunately, until Dallas Raines tells them how to, they may never.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-81733014672671122492008-12-10T16:31:00.000-08:002008-12-10T17:11:02.284-08:00"Want a Thing-a-ma-bob? I got 20!"Twenty (20) things about me that may (or may not) surprise you:<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1.</span> i like to read news on news.bbc.co.uk. every day. more than once a day.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2.</span> i'm crazy about fonts. the good ones.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3.</span> i still don't consider myself a california girl. don't know if i ever will.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4.</span> i like country music. but i don't like songs about ticks, the fans or badonkadonks. (i don't even know if i spelled that correctly).<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">5</span>. i also don't like songs about thongs, cisco! but that's not country.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6.</span> i've read the first few books of the Left Behind series. hahaha. ya... i laughed too.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7.</span> most of my travels occur in my head... in the wishing region of my head. if i had lots of money, they would occur more in reality.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">8.</span> my room is messy right now. matter of fact, my car is too. (sorry, mom and dad - it's not you.)<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">9</span>. i cry - about sad things - about happy things - about average things. it's a way i express. and i don't apologize for it. and it's not a girl thing.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10.</span> i don't think there's anything about me - anything i've done, anything i've said, anything i've felt or feel - that at least one person on this earth does not know. anything. unless i don't know yet.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">11.</span> cats are not my favorite.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">12</span>. i l-o-v-e writing with an ultra fine point Sharpie pen.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">13</span>. i have two (2) friends in my life i would consider my SOULmates.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">14</span>. sometimes i whine. i don't like it when i do. in fact, sometimes i punish myself when i do by sending me to my room to sit on my bed and think about a better way to respond. then i apologize to myself and move on.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">15</span>. apologizing is healing for me.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">16</span>. i have a very, very uncomfortable bed. one time i whined about it.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">17</span>. my senior year in high school i was elected "best smile." but then the yearbook came out and the picture they showed under "Best Smile" is HORRIBLE. my eyes are almost closed and my smile look like i'm talking and smiling at the same time. oh, and my eyebrows are like an inch thick.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">18</span>. when someone says "where should we eat?" and i say, "it doesn't matter." i really mean, "it doesn't matter." it's not a mind game. promise.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">19</span>. i'm eight (8) minutes late to work every day.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">20</span>. i have a list of things to do before i die. it's not as morbid as it sounds. some people call them "long-term goals."andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-69362504803744408862008-12-04T09:43:00.000-08:002008-12-04T16:29:19.417-08:00I Don't Get It"You don't get what?" you're asking. This:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabuhvELRGLK6FPRBEOW4khesQ8mLiWupzioLSkBZNUGmL52PnhyTIoLTV8tK-fOfjVWKwRPNfQt_aIXQUUxxTpCNFkJ9le-R2HwJDQu1-a_y20Ji000f5cE_FziWTgBp6roZ6v-jdjYtZ/s1600-h/car+decals.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjabuhvELRGLK6FPRBEOW4khesQ8mLiWupzioLSkBZNUGmL52PnhyTIoLTV8tK-fOfjVWKwRPNfQt_aIXQUUxxTpCNFkJ9le-R2HwJDQu1-a_y20Ji000f5cE_FziWTgBp6roZ6v-jdjYtZ/s200/car+decals.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5275998457825340370" border="0" /></a>1. When people put window stickers of their families on cars. I especially don't get it when they put each family member's name below the corresponding cartoon-y stick figure with their last name sprawled over the top. And don't get me started on the pets.<br /> <br /><br /><br /><br />2. When people say something like, "It's a shame that nobody has snatched you up yet." Ummm... I don't get it. Who or what exactly did you just shame?<br /><br />3. The Christmas... excuse me... the <span style="font-style: italic;">Holiday</span> decor at my work. I have 5 events over the next two weeks and somehow I was given the task of making sure all of the clubhouses were decorated this week because "I have good style." And let me remind you that this community is made up of very nice, expensive and classy homes. Sounds fun, right? Well, like 50 bins of decor was dropped off in my office to use. It seriously looks like we all went through our junk drawers and dumped them in these bins. So this is what I have to use... TO DECORATE CLUBHOUSES! I have to. And yesterday, this put me in a bad mood (well, I <span style="font-style: italic;">let</span> it put me in a bad mood) when I had to decorate this HUGE (ginormous) wreath - or as my co-worker would say, "reef." They handed me the wreath along with the "items" to decorate it. These items consisted of: a string of gold beads/leaves long enough to stretch around 1/3 of the wreath, a string of bright red and green jewel-y beads to stretch across another 1/3 and a bunch of little pixie things to just stick around the stupid wreath - some that look like glittered gifts, some that look like flat, gold grapes, some that look like a bouquet of holly... you get the picture. And that's it. That's it??? What the hell am I supposed to do with all this crap? So we have a beautiful room with gorgeous wood floors, huge elaborate chandeliers and a big 'ol tacky wreath hangin on the wall. I don't get it.<br /><br />4. Why people still come to work when they're sick... coughing on everything, snotting on everything, hacking. I get you're a hard worker and you feel okay enough to work, but now it's two weeks later and we're ALL sick. And then, when someone else decides to stay home, you say proudly, <span style="font-style: italic;">"I still came in when I was sick."</span><br /><br />5. Ugg boots. I don't get it. Especially when you wear them with your mini-skirt.<br /><br />6. Why Kenny Chesney keeps winning Entertainer of the Year at the CMAs. Why?? I don't get it.<br /><br />7. Why people tell me I look like this when I put on my glasses. I don't get it.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYE7gs0K2D4ybsu42QHehnGT_gQr0-Oi2pRzge_lM4Wmm8stfezjUMpc_ml3XCl3TvnJmmgxELm87SPOP7clp6WZZcjcH08hNMNEviwtirVxcHXwIs1gTIBhneJ0zuRafIE1iZKuhqSRL2/s1600-h/tina_fey.jpg"><img style="cursor: pointer; width: 144px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYE7gs0K2D4ybsu42QHehnGT_gQr0-Oi2pRzge_lM4Wmm8stfezjUMpc_ml3XCl3TvnJmmgxELm87SPOP7clp6WZZcjcH08hNMNEviwtirVxcHXwIs1gTIBhneJ0zuRafIE1iZKuhqSRL2/s200/tina_fey.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5276096005502129794" border="0" /></a>andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-25559624391834211462008-11-10T09:16:00.000-08:002008-11-10T09:19:21.651-08:00ReminderThis morning I was watching the news as the chill in the air was coming through my open window on this beautiful autumn morning. I loved it. Then I saw that this weekend the temperatures were going to be 90+. Then I remembered <a href="http://andreapetty.blogspot.com/2007/11/maybe-next-year.html">what I wrote</a> last year around this time.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-71249530421123492432008-10-29T09:25:00.000-07:002008-10-29T14:07:22.041-07:00I'm It!I've been tagged by <a href="http://philchenery.blogspot.com/">Phil</a>... see!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeM5v_O1X2rOGdMRL4jiSuJtm1aZ5aItfaOCTpzGYrzcNf9mUvabvofffCB-Q4y5YdtiatJssUBYhJYiJU2wqwtWdki1Gf2WWUBnjDkb8kTJVFd7OizIygc8sX7cquyIAqCRQtwasawNr/s1600-h/tagged%5B4%5D.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 249px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheeM5v_O1X2rOGdMRL4jiSuJtm1aZ5aItfaOCTpzGYrzcNf9mUvabvofffCB-Q4y5YdtiatJssUBYhJYiJU2wqwtWdki1Gf2WWUBnjDkb8kTJVFd7OizIygc8sX7cquyIAqCRQtwasawNr/s320/tagged%5B4%5D.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5262613060359436498" border="0" /></a><br />So, here I go. 7 random/weird facts about me:<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">1. </span>In the morning when I'm getting ready for work, I love to turn on Good Morning America. Sometimes if it's boring, I'll turn it to the Today show, but I prefer Diane Sawyer and the gang. I learn a lot that first hour of the morning.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">2. </span>I only check my work emails 3 times a day. It took awhile to get used to, but I can get so much more done this way... it forces me to be less reactive and my emails become a task, not an interruption. My team knows that if it's an emergency, they need to come to my office or call me because I only get the emails at 9am, 12pm and 4pm. The only exception is when I'm waiting on someone to email me something that I need to do my task.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">3. </span>I had kidney surgery years ago and have an 8 inch scar to prove it... a very straight line that goes around my waist.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">4.</span> Sometimes when I can't focus at work, I'll play one of those games that's supposed to help your brain. It actually works most of the time, but sometimes it's annoying because I'll see math equations or will be unscrambling words in my head for the rest of the day.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">5. </span>I love football season. I love college football (Big 12 especially... go Aggies!) and NFL. I will Tivo a Cowboys game and watch the entire thing by myself. I will cheer out loud, I will talk to the TV, I will get mad if we turnover the ball, and I will be a ball of anxiety if it's a "good" game.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">6.</span> "Save the best for last" is a theme I live by... but not on purpose. In everything I do... eating - I like to save the best bite for last; at work - I like to save my favorite project for last; at Disneyland - I like to save the best ride for last; and on and on.<br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">7.</span> Okay. I'm going to admit something... something that very few people know about me. I honestly don't care if you judge me. I LOVE Dancing With the Stars... like, LOVE it! I think it is so entertaining. That's not the embarrassing part (well, maybe a little). Here it is: I am that emotional viewer that the producers strive to entertain. I am so glad there is not some secret live webcam recording me as I watch it... seriously. This week as I was watching it, I became aware of how incredibly nerdy I am. I found myself on the edge of my couch with this ridiculously huge smile on my face, or I'd laugh a loud boisterous laugh as though I'm right there, I'd applaud with excitement and cheer for my favorites... seriously - SO nerdy! I wish I was a star only so I could be on that show. Judge away!<br /><br />I'm not a rule follower, so I'm not going to tag 7. I'm only going to tag <a href="http://gregandalissa.blogspot.com/">Alissa</a>, <a href="http://www.hollemanhouse.blogspot.com/">Kristyn</a>, <a href="http://www.gregmelton.wordpress.com/">Greg</a><a href="http://www.gregmelton.wordpress.com/"> </a>and <a href="http://heywarrens.blogspot.com/">Vanessa</a>. You guys can do it if you want to.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-1627164442613796502008-10-03T10:51:00.001-07:002008-10-03T10:53:54.071-07:00Okay... seriously!1. OJ Simpson is on trial<br />2. We are at war in the Middle East<br />3. 90210 has just started (again)<br />4. Bush is president<br />5. New Kids on the Block just came out with a new album<br /><br />WHAT YEAR IS THIS?andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-27954319777592024982008-09-24T15:02:00.000-07:002008-09-24T15:28:09.246-07:00THAT was awkwardI've had a couple of awkward moments recently that are worth sharing:<br /><br />1. A young man (late 20's??) was in front of me in line at the grocery store. He pulled out his wallet to pay and I noticed something fall out of his wallet. He didn't notice, so on my way down to pick it up for him I say, "Oops! You dropped something! Here." As I handed him the dropped item, I noticed it was a condom and I said, "Oh... umm... here. <pause> Awkward." What made it more awkward is that he darted out and didn't say anything. Not even "thanks!"<br /><br />2. One day a while ago I was crying at home; I had to leave so I went to grab tissue to take to the car with me only to find out I was out of tissue. What's the next best thing? Toilet paper. So I take a roll of toilet paper to the car with me and when I was done crying, I stashed it in my glove box. Then a few weeks ago I had a friend in the car with me who was having "tummy issues." She had to make a pit-stop at the drugstore for some Imodium while we were in my car. She took her pill, "tummy issue" was solved and shoved the box in my glove box... and forgot it when she left. Ya... you see where this is going. So the other day I had someone in my car (who I don't know that well). He was helping me fix something in my car and I told him to check the Owner's Manual that was where? In my glove box. I'm sitting in the driver's seat. He opens my glove box and in slow motion I see the box of Imodium fall into his hands, followed by my 1/4 roll of toilet paper. He looks at me, Imodium and toilet paper in hands, confused (rightfully so!) I quickly respond, "oh, the Imodium is not mine and the toilet paper is here because I was crying and I had no tissue... I promise." He just chuckled... I mean, could I sound any more defensive? He lays the items in his lap and then reaches for the Owner's Manual. As he pulls it out, my entire stash of feminine products fall out with it. I look at it all laying at his feet and just say, "Oh. Here. I'll get those." He just sat there as I picked each one off the floor. "Well... this is awkward," I said as I closed the glove box.<br /><br />See - told you it was worth it!andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-16238513100261261532008-09-04T14:38:00.000-07:002008-09-04T14:53:44.550-07:00Be a Fly on My WallI've told you <a href="http://andreapetty.blogspot.com/2008/01/my-daily-entertainment.html">before</a> about how the Communication Manager, Lisa*, at my office always says things wrong. Let me tell you a conversation that occurred yesterday:<br /><br />Lisa walks in on a meeting my boss and I were having and said, "I feel so frazzered today." <br />(Translation: "I feel so<span style="font-style: italic;"> frazzled</span> today.")<br />When she was corrected, she said, "Oh. Huh... I've always thought it was frazzered. Oh well."<br />We chuckle.<br />Then she says, "I don't know what the deal is; I just can't seem to get my work on."<br />(Translation: "I can't seem to focus.")<br />Boss laughs and says: "That's not something I want to hear."<br />Lisa: "Oh, don't act like you've never been flazzered." She looks at me. "Did i say it right?"<br />We laugh and correct her as she walks off.<br />As she's walking off she says, "What does that really mean anyway?"<br /><br /><br />*to protect her privacy, the name has been changed. ;)andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-91026381838394011832008-08-27T17:54:00.000-07:002008-08-27T18:11:59.612-07:00Does this mean I'm stressed?So, let's enter my world for a sec: I have a big event in 3 weeks. I'm moving this weekend. I'm visiting my sister for a couple of days this weekend. (Yes, I will be gone during the "move." This is more stressful than it sounds because this means that I MUST get it all done before I leave 'cause I can't do it as we're moving). I had a blowout on sunday. Took my car in the shop on monday to get it fixed where I was told I actually have to get 3 tires. My roommate's car completely died on her yesterday. **Breathe.** As you can see, I'm a little stressed.<br /><br />Then this happened...<br /><br />When I'm having a stressful day/week, I make sure that I do things for myself, like get a pedicure, rent a movie, treat myself to a fancy coffee drink. Today I chose the latter. So after work, I get my drink; I get back in my car. Put it in reverse. But wait... it won't go in reverse!! What??!! "NOT NOW," I screamed. Is it stuck? Let me pull harder! OH MY GOSH MY CAR IS STUCK! I can't go backwards! I can't even go forward! What the crap?! I start to panic as I opened my door and grab my keys from the ignition. Huh... where are my keys? They're not in the ignition. OOOOHH... they're sitting quietly on my lap. OOOOHHH... <span style="font-style: italic;">that's </span> why it wouldn't go in reverse. Nice.<br /><br />Probably the stupidest thing I've EVER done... but I'm chalkin it up to stress.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-28825168219680951672008-08-24T12:05:00.000-07:002008-08-24T12:20:30.501-07:00Local News ShameThe NBC Channel 4 News team in LA makes no excuses for their motive... they don't even try to hide it.<br /><br />1. They make it clear <span style="font-style: italic;">why </span>they hired the weather girl. 'Cause there's nothing that says, "hey guys, tune in to watch our weather girl," quite like this commercial.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/h29exH7ZUxk&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/h29exH7ZUxk&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br /><br />2. They also make it clear why they hired the news team. 'Cause there's nothing that says, "we're a bunch of bad-asses" quite like this commercial.<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/P4pBbRKeeCI&hl=en&fs=1"><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/P4pBbRKeeCI&hl=en&fs=1" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowfullscreen="true" height="344" width="425"></embed></object><br /><br />No wonder ABC news is the most watched here.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-89655882879045124942008-08-05T15:27:00.000-07:002008-08-05T16:08:08.083-07:00Two of a KindYou know the One Republic/Timbaland song, <span style="font-style: italic;">Apologize</span>? You know... the one that came out close to a year ago that was really good and then radio began to play it back-to-back, over and over again; they performed it on every Awards Show, Talk Show, Late Night Show that exists? And finally you said "Okay! We get it! It's too late to 'pologize!" You know which one I'm talking about, right?<br /><br />And you've heard me mention the dear that works in my office. You know, the guy who likes to sing his flavor-of-the-month song over and over again, but he doesn't want to sing it too loud so as to not disturb anyone, so he does the Whisper-singing thing? You know, the whisper-singing thing that's not <span style="font-style: italic;">really </span>whispering and it's not <span style="font-style: italic;">really</span> singing? It's just kinda... annoying, breathy tones? And, you know, this is the <span style="font-style: italic;">same</span> guy who likes to beat his fingers, hands, feet, elbows, WHATEVER he can on the desk, floor, book, monitor, WHATEVER he can to the beat (or close to the beat) of the song. You remember this guy, right?<br /><br />Ya, these two <span>just</span> met today.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-77029902911256698652008-08-01T13:53:00.000-07:002008-08-03T09:22:01.890-07:00Really?!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80h2AJ94ldYRz2p-7QbsR8kbzaKOu-AiJOjG2vkeVUgrStcTE1U6UzAA5u0P7hmSTNu9YgdfiAUve1VOzPDyu5kWyemoW3FLsCZgti4qa90NklDpq0-1_PmLMYXCTiECd-llHj6yLQvqr/s1600-h/santa.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg80h2AJ94ldYRz2p-7QbsR8kbzaKOu-AiJOjG2vkeVUgrStcTE1U6UzAA5u0P7hmSTNu9YgdfiAUve1VOzPDyu5kWyemoW3FLsCZgti4qa90NklDpq0-1_PmLMYXCTiECd-llHj6yLQvqr/s320/santa.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5229655823941714498" border="0" /></a> 2 days ago - on July 30 - I saw a commercial that had Santa as the main character (who recognized it was summer by wearing a Hawaiian shirt). Really?!andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-12435446587953123062008-07-25T10:59:00.000-07:002008-07-25T11:23:55.915-07:00Just Some Random Stuff<ul><li>I really like that I live in one of the best climates in the world. It's been PERFECT lately. Love it.</li><li>About 4-5 months ago I learned that I'm allergic to certain foods that happen to be in everything (like wheat/gluten and corn, among others). I've avoided blogging about it because I was in the process of accepting that my eating style has completely changed (and grieving that I can't have foods that I want sometimes). I'm now the "picky" eater that is hard to eat out with and I found myself being kinda insecure about it. However, I'm now at a place where I am totally okay with it - mainly because I feel SO much better. But it's changed my mind about food (again!) in general - I eat to fuel my body.</li><li>If anyone tells you that you don't really get <span style="font-style: italic;">that</span> wet on Splash Mountain, they're lying. I got drenched. And was dramatic about it.<br /></li><li>I learned something new about me this week - well, I knew it about me, but I actually heard it and felt it this week - BREAKTHROUGH. It is in these broken moments when I discover how precious my heart is.</li><li>Cathi and I are moving next month... right next door. The new condo is more updated... by like 20 years! And I am SOO excited!</li></ul>LOVE YOU ALL!!!andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-70356611620761441432008-07-20T21:31:00.000-07:002008-07-20T22:57:19.924-07:00Take a Stroll With MeToday :<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">I woke up later than usual. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Listened to church online. Very good.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Completed some domestic duties.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Watched (off and on) an interesting show on National Geographic about Antarctica.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Updated my itunes by importing old cd's while doing the above.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Listened to: Amos Lee, A Fine Frenzy, Ray LaMontagne, Coldplay and Patty Griffin while doing most of the above.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Which obviously put me in a mellow mood.<br /></span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Cleaned up and got ready for the day. Finally.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">To hang out with myself. Lovely.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Once cabin fever set in, I headed to the Spectrum.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />I drove slow. Still mellow.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Grabbed a fancy coffee. My treat.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Tried on a few things.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Bought one thing. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Walked into Anthropologie. Immediately inspired.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />"i want... i want... i want," I said continuously.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Reminded myself of who I am. Smiled.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />I left wishing the store designer to be my friend.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Remembered my friends. Smiled again.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Enjoyed the perfect weather as I strolled to my car.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Drove home. Slowly. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Walked in the empty house. Roommate's out of town.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Turned on the lamp. Simple light is the best.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Made a veggie omelet. Delicious.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Sat on my comfy couch to tell you about my day.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />And thanked me for hanging out with me today.<br />It was a delightful day.<br /></span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-wOWr-sSRpusbejDCtBsI0331zR5UmITWf4PS7EBAAH27Z75VlJfO6qGKb_kABW3YTk9iGGfqhaCvXghzyb67Iel72MTfOhtaOfNNRsw1UDwnECdKcwZBeaM-qDWjxdH1dyuc9JJ1z7s/s1600-h/Andrea+193.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 126px; height: 168px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-wOWr-sSRpusbejDCtBsI0331zR5UmITWf4PS7EBAAH27Z75VlJfO6qGKb_kABW3YTk9iGGfqhaCvXghzyb67Iel72MTfOhtaOfNNRsw1UDwnECdKcwZBeaM-qDWjxdH1dyuc9JJ1z7s/s200/Andrea+193.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5225341710223602402" border="0" /></a>andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-4867813388786475032008-07-16T15:39:00.000-07:002008-07-16T15:47:32.064-07:0010 Things I Love About YouI was thinking today about how much I like my roommate, <a href="http://cathiworkman.blogspot.com">Cathi.</a> So I wrote a Top Ten list in honor of her.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">10 Things I Love About Cathi:</span><br />1. We have intellectually-stimulating conversations.<br />2. We have dumb conversations that include phrases like, "it's all volumed."<br />3. She can laugh at herself.<br />4. She tries hard not to laugh at me when I fall on by butt at Blockbuster for no reason at all.<br />5. She can recreate the Love Song Medley scene in <span style="font-style: italic;">Moulin Rouge</span> with me (we both play both parts).<br />6. She's a great listener.<br />7. The way she talks about Ned, our plant... well, not technically "our" plant.<br />8. She doesn't like the pink hue on the walls of our new place either.<br />9. The way she says "I'm sorry" when I tell her about my bad day.<br />10. That she's not super giddy, talkative or a ball of energy in the morning.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-71246132157818507022008-07-01T23:21:00.000-07:002008-07-01T23:30:50.004-07:00I Broke the LawToday in California is the first day you can't talk on a cell phone while driving unless you are using a handsfree device - like a bluetooth. Ya... I've broken the law a few times today.<br /><br />And while I'm on it... I don't mean to get technical, but I saw a lady holding up the cord with the phone mic on it while driving... not <span style="font-style: italic;">exactly</span> handsfree. I mean if you hold up the cord, you might as well hold up the phone. I've never understood that.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-89144334614438343412008-06-25T21:44:00.000-07:002008-06-25T22:13:25.280-07:00So You Think You Can... Shut up!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TGgfKRp8g5NfZ948hVmzDK6VoLX6NT2GcvmF_NG-r0J1k83Ik5Okb5xJabcVN79Ef7kgPsNLiURBW81Hx9STC-7K2MXCVjuDWJnty_1u_csnj3LkHzNKm-LWU7FbMGbK30flMCatQkZu/s1600-h/mary+murphy.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 299px; height: 199px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2TGgfKRp8g5NfZ948hVmzDK6VoLX6NT2GcvmF_NG-r0J1k83Ik5Okb5xJabcVN79Ef7kgPsNLiURBW81Hx9STC-7K2MXCVjuDWJnty_1u_csnj3LkHzNKm-LWU7FbMGbK30flMCatQkZu/s320/mary+murphy.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5216046719947093490" border="0" /></a>I enjoy watching So You Think You Can Dance. And while I feel like I need to rationalize that to prove that I'm still cool, I'll refrain. Mary Murphy (in the pic) is a judge on this show and every time she comes on, I have to mute it. Her voice is the most absolutely annoying thing to listen to. As if the shrieking tone isn't enough, she has to yell things like "YOU HAVE JUST BOUGHT YOURSELVES TWO FIRST-CLASS TICKETS ON THE HOT TAMALE TRAIN! WAAAAOOOOOOOO!" All in one breath. And don't get me started on the laugh.<br /><br />This video though makes me laugh... Mary makes The Soup often (another great show).<br /><br /><object height="344" width="425"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/f5xH3MozQ1o&hl=en"><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/f5xH3MozQ1o&hl=en" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" height="344" width="425"></embed></object>andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-51381391570347743442008-06-18T15:42:00.000-07:002008-06-18T16:03:34.636-07:00What Was That?Here is <span style="font-style: italic;">my </span>list of Top Ten worst lyrics... ever. As you read them, remember someone wrote them and said "perfect!" Someone else listened to it and said "yes." And quite possibly a third person heard it and said "I want to record that." And then YOU bought it and sang along. What I'm saying is that multiple people thought it was good before you heard it and cringed. (side note: I'm not saying I hate the song, I just don't like this particular lyric. Some songs I do hate though. ahem... Fergie... ahem)<br /><br />10. <span style="font-style: italic;">Wake me up before you go go/ Don't leave me hangin on like a yo-yo." </span>Wake Me Up, WHAM!<br /><br />9. <span style="font-style: italic;">God must have spent a little more time on you. </span>N'Sync (or Backstreet Boys... one of 'em)<br /><br />8. <span style="font-style: italic;">Fergilicious definition make them boys go loco. </span>Fergilicious, Fergie<br /><br />7. <span style="font-style: italic;">You're on my heart just like a tattoo/ I'll always have you. </span>Tattoo, Jordin Sparks<br /><br />6. <span style="font-style: italic;">Whatcha gonna do with all that breast/All that breast inside your shirt. </span>My Humps, BlackEyed Peas<br /><br />5. <span style="font-style: italic;">Between the red cells and white/ Somethin's not right </span>Sara Beth, Rascall Flatts<br /><br />4. <span style="font-style: italic;">I don't like cities, but I like New York/ Other places make me feel like a dork. </span>I Love New York, Madonna<br /><br />3. <span style="font-style: italic;">Let me see that tho-o-ong/ Thong th thong, thong thong. </span>The Thong Song, Cisco (now admit it, you totally sang along)<br /><br />2. <span style="font-style: italic;">'Cause my swag is serious/ Somethin heavy like a first-day period. </span>Feedback, Janet Jackson<br /><br />and the #1 WORST lyric ever. I almost go into a full rage if I hear it:<br /><br />1. <span style="font-style: italic;">And I miss you like a child misses its blanket. </span>Big Girls Don't Cry, Fergie<br /><br /> What are your least favorite lyrics??andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-77080190150527766052008-06-14T13:28:00.000-07:002008-06-14T13:46:07.930-07:00Hey Smart OneIn case you didn't know what to do at the counter along the wall in the restroom with the silver water faucets and big white bowl-like thingys which also contain a lever that once you pull, pink smelly-good stuff comes out... Disneyland (on behalf of Sparkle) has provided you with helpful instructions.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6cwe__oQ0YHTMYUsT5_Dl6_Zrn91_zK3MUuyL0OpyeByLIc9PxcrsCVKEED3Gv77CgU-eBKqK6BBF7rbwHcqqKgRG7U-JmewS-MRBXv07w0BPQ7gO6EjjZ1uZdiy1V4gI_sbMwJyl8M8/s1600-h/Andrea's+161.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU6cwe__oQ0YHTMYUsT5_Dl6_Zrn91_zK3MUuyL0OpyeByLIc9PxcrsCVKEED3Gv77CgU-eBKqK6BBF7rbwHcqqKgRG7U-JmewS-MRBXv07w0BPQ7gO6EjjZ1uZdiy1V4gI_sbMwJyl8M8/s320/Andrea's+161.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5211837651561693762" border="0" /></a>andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5985204842476869316.post-80056933245935498262008-06-11T14:06:00.000-07:002008-06-11T14:13:12.281-07:00Stop and StareSometimes when I feel like someone is staring at me too long, I say "What?" in my head... especially when it's strangers.<br /><br />Today I kept running into this lady at Target who kept staring at me down every single aisle... like STARING. After the 5th time, I exclaim "What?" in my head... but it accidentally came out of my mouth too. I felt like such a jerk.andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06003384190066582893noreply@blogger.com3