This is why english teachers fade so fast…

#14, my personal favorite. My friend Mary posted this, I laughed so hard I think I peed a little. Just a little.

Every year, English teachers from across the country can submit their collections of actual analogies and metaphors found in high school essays.

These excerpts are published each year to the amusement of teachers throughout the land. Here are some last year’s winners…..

1. Her face was a perfect oval, like a circle that had its two sides gently compressed by a Thigh Master.

2. His thoughts tumbled in his head, making and breaking alliances like underpants in a dryer without Cling Free.

3. He spoke with the wisdom that can only come from experience, like a guy who went blind because he looked at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it and now goes around the country speaking at high schools about the dangers of looking at a solar eclipse without one of those boxes with a pinhole in it.

4. She grew on him like she was a colony of E. Coli, and he was room-temperature Canadian beef.

5. She had a deep, throaty, genuine laugh, like that sound a dog makes just before it throws up.

6. Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever.

7. He was as tall as a six-foot, three-inch tree.

8. The revelation that his marriage of 30 years had disintegrated because of his wife’s infidelity came as a rude shock, like a surcharge at a formerly surcharge-free ATM machine.

9. The little boat gently drifted across the pond exactly the way a bowling ball wouldn’t.

10. McBride fell 12 stories, hitting the pavement like a Hefty bag filled with vegetable soup.

11. From the attic came an unearthly howl. The whole scene had an eerie, surreal quality, like when you’re on vacation in another city and Jeopardy comes on at 7:00 p.m. instead of 7:30.

12. Her hair glistened in the rain like a nose hair after a sneeze.

13. The hailstones leaped from the pavement, just like maggots when you fry them in hot grease.

14. Long separated by cruel fate, the star-crossed lovers raced across the grassy field toward each other like two freight trains, one having left Cleveland at 6:36 p.m. traveling at 55 mph, the other from Topeka at 4:19 p.m. at a speed of 35 mph.

15. They lived in a typical suburban neighborhood with picket fences that resembled Nancy Kerrigan’s teeth.

16. John and Mary had never met. They were like two hummingbirds who had also never met.

17. He fell for her like his heart was a mob informant, and she was the East River.

18. Even in his last years, Granddad had a mind like a steel trap, only one that had been left out so long, it had rusted shut.

19. Shots rang out, as shots are wont to do.

20. The plan was simple, like my brother-in-law Phil. But unlike Phil, this plan just might work.

21. The young fighter had a hungry look, the kind you get from not eating for a while.

22. He was as lame as a duck. Not the metaphorical lame duck, either, but a real duck that was actually lame, maybe from stepping on a land mine or something.

23. The ballerina rose gracefully en Pointe and extended one slender leg behind her, like a dog at a fire hydrant.

24. It was an American tradition, like fathers chasing kids around with power tools.

25. He was deeply in love. When she spoke, he thought he heard bells, as if she were a garbage truck backing up.

Football Sunday

Lisa headed off with Dretti for some puppy obedience thingie today, which left me, Q and DeeDee home to keep cleaning the home office and watch football. Q seemed to like football at times, because they are running around all crazy-like.

Game 1: Pats vs. Chargers

In spite of some sketchy play by Tom Brady, the Chargers couldn’t overcome the steamroller that is the Pats. I wouldn’t bet against the Pats the way they’ve been playing. I still think its amusing that the 49ers had a chance to draft Brady years ago and passed (Brady grew up here in San Mateo and always wanted to play for the 49ers). It looks marginally chilly in Foxboro today, but unfortunately, no snow. I really like “Snow Ball” during the playoffs. Makes football more pure IMO – I’ve never liked this closed-stadium, temperature controlled, artificial turf, etc. The best games are the cold, nasty weather mud or snow bowls.

Game 2: Packers vs. Giants

Pretty much a competition of who doesn’t collapse from frost bite first, while tossing around a pigskin wrapped brick. It must have been a pretty unpleasant experience to get hit by the ball tonite. I’m sorta bummed that players are playing with gloves, etc these days. Seems like it gives them an unfair advantage compared to the old days when there were no gloves, just bare-knuckled plays, no matter what the weather. Bummer that the Pack lost – after all the big games Brett pulled off this season, he seemed really off today. Couldn’t connect on much. I kinda expected more from the Pack, considering they are used to playing in these conditions. But in the end, really, it was a battle for who is going to lose to the Pats…

I wish the Superbowl were going to be played somewhere like Green Bay or Chicago – someplace cold, perhaps with snow/rain/mud. Playing it in Arizona seems pretty anti-septic. Good luck to Eli – I’m sorta glad to see him make it, just because he has always been playing in the shadow of his older brother.

What I learned whilst being sick this weekend

A few things I brought away from having 4 days off in a row, and being sick for all 4 days off in a row:

* If you are truly ill, like, not exaggerating or faking it or anything like that…despite a crappy weather forcast the sun will appear bright and warm, the sky will shine a summery blue and the temperature will vault into unseasonal highs, birds will sing and baby animals will be born and cavort under your bedroom window (seriously, like Disney planned this shit or something)…all just to taunt you through fever swollen eyelids and a virally weakened mental state.

* Enough sleep will cure anything. I cannot imagine the curative properties of a good solid coma. I’m not 100% better, but I slept through Sunday in it’s entirety, and the better portion of today; the sore throat is almost gone, and I didn’t need to take any cold meds to breathe today.

*Nothing in = nothing out. If you are going to sleep off an illness, be sure to take in plenty of fluids. Otherwise you will wake up dehydrated as shit and feel like you just came off a binge drinking spree. Honest.

*Ghost Rider is just as bad the second time around, even if it’s broadcast in HD. Still a stupid flick.

* Legally Blond did NOT need to have a sequel movie made. The first one was fucking stupid, the second one was just….well, retarded. Reese….you should be ashamed of yourself. Really.

* NASCAR was invented by moonshine runnin’ hillbillies in Georgia. No shit. True.

* Despite having every channel, there is always a moment, an hour, or 4, when there is NOTHING on. At least nothing worth watching. This includes the shopping channels. And the pron channels.

* There is something called a SkunkApe rumored to be sneaking around somewhere in the swamps of Florida. An hour long ‘documentary’ on the subject, which included pheromone chips made from vaginal swabs of a multitude of women and female apes (which, according to one female SkunkApe chaser were “phoooweeee, these thangs are RIPE!”….well duh….rank poontang on a card hanging at face level, Dipshit, don’t smell it.)…anyhow, the hour long program failed to prove their existence or non-existence (go figure) but did provide a good deal of very entertaining re-enactments from a bunch of very convinced Florida Crackers.

* There are over 80 different Babtist denominations in the Appalachia…..the deeper into the mountains you get, the more fundamentalist they get.

* Religious snake handling is illegal in Tennessee, Kentucky and Alabama. Snake handling churches can be found throughout the southeast, Tennessee, Kentucky, Georgia, West Virginia, Alabama, both Carolinas, Ohio, Florida and Texas (the largest numbers in Tennessee and Kentucky)

* The founder of snake handling in the name of religion died of snake bite. You see, snake handling tests the faith of the handler, those who get bit are either weak in faith, have sin in their lives, are un-anointed by the holy ghost, or are having their faith ‘tested’ by god himself. Hensley (the founder) was a moonshiner, prone to a violent temper, served time in a chain gang, escaped the law, married and divorced 4 times….so, you be the judge.

* There are over 200 UFO sightings per month in these United States. Go us! Main sighting states are California, Colorado and… guessed it…Texas!!!

* Lemon sherbet will ‘cure’ reverse sneezing in dogs. Uh, okay.

* Just because you think you’re better, don’t push it. Like I did tonight. Oh well, back to the cold meds. I feel cruddy again. Sigh.

Okay, goodnight all. Sleep well. Or, for some of you out there, just try to sleep at all, okay?

New low in outsourcing; my fat ass.

That’s right, my big butt has been outsourced. Okay, so just the folks who provide customer service at my health club have been outsourced, but you know, same diff. I just got off the phone with some indian dude who’s name I had to ask 3 times and still cannot comprehend or pronounce. It took a good 15 minutes to simply renew my membership, yes, 15 minutes to make a simple payment on my membership. I had to spell out the account number ….”E as in egg, N as in Nancy…..” and so on and so on, which might have been helpful if he had known the english word for egg.


Oh well, I swindled a sweet deal 3 years ago….lifetime $49 a year, access to all clubs nationwide, all the amenities, blah blah blah. It’s pretty much the only membership that they will cancel immediately, no come-backsies, if you are even one day late making your annual dues. All other memberships they sit and beg you to keep, this one they would so love to cancel. So I guess I’m pretty okay with spending some time on the phone once a year to renew at that rate. Shit, for most people it’s more than that per month.

Hopefully dude who’s name I cannot comprehend didn’t screw it up, he seemed to have some issues with MY name, you know, the one that’s on the account and my credit card? Heh, we’ll see.

Of trees and disk drives

Rare nice weather today – sunny and warm (for January – mid-60s). Lisa couldn’t enjoy any of it since she’s so sick with the flu. She ended up sleeping most of the day and the dogs mostly slept with her (except for potty time which is when they came to find me).

I had to deal with a bunch of work stuff today, but in between I managed to clean up the driveway from our mini-hurricane weather a week+ ago. While I was at it, I cut down the redwood next to the driveway that died – damage from voles finally did it in. Jack and Izzy watched me go at the tree with a handsaw – it would have taken longer just to get the chainsaw started again – its pretty cranky. I did get some cleaning up done – the diningroom table has been covered junk from the homeoffice for the past week. And watched football and hockey.

Lisa finally got up around 6 and mustered the energy to make some crab stuffed salmon and prosciutto wrapped scallops for dinner. Yum! I’m glad she has tomorrow off – she can rest more.

In the process of cleaning up, I discovered one of the hard drives on my computer has the ‘click of death’ – crap… I don’t remember what was on it, but I’m sure there is something important. Time to pull out some tricks to recover it long enough to back it up. And a new drive I got at Frys on Friday magically is a DOA. I’m having a bad disk drive weekend.

An entire Saturday……pissed away!

And so, another IKEA project attempted and mastered. Despite the following photodocumentary, it wasn’t really that difficult. I just had to keep taking breaks when the pictures got to bleary for me to follow. Fever, you know. Slows you down.
The Box, heavy beyond belief. I’ve included a greyhound, for scale.

Before doing anything it was vital to have a team. AtH had to go into work, so I made do with who I could find hanging out with me, the sickie. Titles were assigned according to natural talent and interest in the project.

D-Square thought the whole idea was laughable, what with me being sick and all, but agreed to play along.

Here’s everything laid out, it’s good to be organized I reasoned. Especially when one is not running at full mental capacity. Q agreed and added a toy. Toys help make it fun.

Q helped a lot, you know, because he was the technical lead and everything. This was a very technical project.

Interesting fact: IKEA caters to many MANY different cultures, and so their instructions come in no less than 18 different languages. Okay, the title instruction page comes in no less than 18 languages….the rest of it is in ‘picture talk’ so that the literate, illiterate and everyone in between can be equal in their confusion.

There were 15 pages of picture-instructions. No really, all pictures, no words. Lots of international signs for “no”

To further the confusion, if a mistake is made at the factory in the packaging of the MULTITUDE of small parts, fixtures and fittings, they simply throw in a packet of the correct small parts, fixtures or fittings and label them as ‘these, not those’

How thoughtful.

As cluttered and confusing as this looks, it wasn’t really that difficult. I only had to disassemble one part because I put the railing on backwards. Oh, and I stripped two screws, so AtH had to scrounge up two larger ones in between coming home from work and heading out to the feed store to get some hay.

The entire team was constantly checking my ass for quality control.

Dretti did a lot of posing, looking like he was working, but true to project manager form, he slept through most of the development and only made an appearance when the camera was out.(no offense to any project managers in my immediate circle)

Amazingly, no parts got misplaced and everything came together well.

We watched Clerks 2 towards the end, and most of the team fell apart due to the distraction

But that’s okay, I can work independently just as well. Here’s the finished cyborg, ahem, sideboard. Note Q, still hard at work in the background, checking all the technical tecnicalness of the finished product. Note the project manager nowhere to be found:

Q celebrated by getting himself a little beaver.


I celebrated by taking a shower.

I hate being sick.

But I love projects.

The stomach flu was just an opening act. Craptastic.

Seems the Virus that Resides in my Guts was the opening act for The Flu, which is now residing in my head. You know that moment that you realize You Have a Sore Throat? Yeah, that was exactly 6:14 pm Thursday night. I was sitting at my desk at work, finishing some stuff, smiling about meeting Art the Husband for sushi and I realized “I have a sore throat…SHIT….I HAVE A SORE THROAT….CRAP-SHIT….I’m getting The Flu!!!!” I think I even said that out loud. Everyone at work is getting this shit. I was hoping to get off easy with just a quick stomach flu and be done with it.


So I complained, and observed my body going thru the motions of getting sick. The swollen lymph nodes, the hot sticky-itchy eyeballs, the fatigue, the inability to control my body temp (this is a moment to moment phenomenon…awesome) This was all just during dinner. It gets better. But I’ll spare you.

End result: Sleep, and lots of it. Yesterday I slept late, got up, made coffee and took a shower, went back to bed until 2. Two. O’clock. In the afternoon. Shit. Coffee went cold. And I still felt like crap. But not so much I didn’t get my ass up and out. I went out and got some cd’s (I’ll buy cd’s if I really really really like an artist, otherwise it’s download download download) and hit IKEA again for a cyborg. Sideboard. I meant sideboard, like this:

On the way home I was trying to explain to Elizabeth what the big complicated box of wood and parts was, and between The Virus that Resides in my Head and crappy cell reception it turned out I bought a cyborg. To go on the back porch, you know, to pot plants on. Anything that ventures onto my back porch will be assimilated. Neato.

So me and the Virus that Resides in my Head will be spending the weekend loading the new cd’s onto the laptop (lots and lots of Elvis Costello, some Dolly Parton (I feel like such a schmuck pirating her music for some reason), a couple of soundtracks and the Donnas), finishing up the office project, putting IKEA storage units and cyborgs together and sleeping a lot. I’m sure orange juice and soup will be stand out features in the weekend venue. The weather is supposed to be gross, at least for tomorrow and Sunday, so being sick might be acceptable.

I told Elizabeth I would post pictures of the IKEA cyborg project, and I will, when I can get the heavy motherfucker out of the mom-mobile. That will happen when I am able to pry AtH away from The Day the Earth Stood Still. Oh wait, he says it’s over, the Earth Stood Still, and the movie is finished. I shall give him a project. I will not tell him how heavy it is. I will not make him help put it together. We’ll see how far I get.


xoxo, L.

Observations on a Monday morning…

A few monday morning observations:

– adding breakfast cereal including milk to your laptop keyboard is not a good combo – I’m hoping my attempts at cleaning it worked so I don’t need to explain to the Apple folks why I did this
– someone up our way must have some real clout at the county level, as a street sweeper came up the road this morning
to clear all the storm debris away
– horses don’t like to be penned up in their stalls for 4 days straight (and will end up inside for a couple more at the rate
the weather is going)
– overhead florescent light fixtures in the barn aren’t strong enough to hold a cat (or raccoon)
– a home office left uncleaned for 2 yrs really does take 6+ trash bags and a stack of folded cardboard to get cleaned up
– dogs which would normally wake my ass up at 5am decide today that since Lisa is home sick, that magically they don’t need to go potty
– Jeeps that leak in a storm turn into rolling saunas the next sunny day

Lisa’s day…hell, new year so far, in a nutshell….er, teabag…

Not so great. I mean, not horrible, but not great. Here’s the shitty-list, for anyone interested:

* New horsie has respiratory grossness (just a cold, but not what I wanted to see)

* Window on the mom-mobile EXPLODED for unknown reasons, have cut myself twice now on leftover glass bits.

* Beloved friend sick in hospital too many states away from here

* Popularity at work declining at a record pace, for reasons I cannot fathom. I love them, they most certainly do not love me.

* Caused intern to run crying from the building. Go me!

The ‘Wow, that’s awesome!’ list:

………i’m still waiting on this one…….waiting……still waiting…..

oh, hold the boat….

* AtH has almost finished cleaning out the office, a task that is 2 1/2 years in the making.

“But Lisa, you’ve only been in that house 2 1/2 years, how is that possible?”

Uh, yeah. It’s possible.

Today, I went to IKEA to get shelving and storage shit for AtH to organize things with. Gladly went to IKEA on a SUNDAY. Silly girl. It did not impress me, the parking situation at that place. One way in, one way thru the maze, one way out. And jam packed full. I only circled once before pulling into the recently renovated handicap lot. No, I’m not such an asshole that I’m going to park in a handicap spot. No, I’m the asshole that rolled her eyes and ranted when she saw that IKEA had taken half of it’s gi-normous handicap parking lot and converted it into “Family Parking”. You heard me….special parking for fucking breeders. That’s right, if you’ve stretched your uterus to the max, if you’ve fertilized and manufactured as many eggs as you can, if you are a contributer to the overpopulation of this planet, YOU can get special parking privileges at IKEA. Oh hell I say. Fuck that shit. I positioned my ass to take the next available ‘Family Parking’ slot. That’s right. I had no sprogs, but I had the mom-mobile and the attitude. And parking spots were at a premium, as evidenced by the circling endless circling of Those Who Circle. Not that it would have mattered if 10 spots had opened up right then and there, it was the principle of the matter at this point. I waited 15 minutes while some green-earth hemp wearing birkenstock sporting breeder couple strapped, padded, coddled, bottled and generally loaded their brood into their oversized SUV. It’s okay, I had a few magazines. And an attitude, did I mention my attitude*? I snagged their spot and hoped, nay, prayed someone would say something to me as I flitted (overbred moms don’t flit; their heavy thick-from-child uteruses won’t allow for it and they don’t have the energy) out of my mom-mobile (sans children, aka, family) and meandered my way childless into IKEA. Sadly, nobody challenged me. Dang. I got what I needed, including lots of paper for bbkf and ami, and swaggered my way back to my illicit parking spot, still, void of the requisite passel of brats. I took my time loading my crap, I didn’t even pretend to bark at unseen children in the car as a cover. I squinted my eyes several times and wished to be confronted, because man, I was locked and loaded. No luck. Only two Family Packed SUVs vying for my coveted spot. Dang again. I was so ready to unload on some self righteous breeder, and was denied the pleasure. Double dang. (P & P, you don’t count. You have to have more than two children to officially qualify as a breeder, over 4 to gain the title of Fucking Breeder (in case anyone was wondering))

I hit up Sweet Adelines on my way out of town. Berkeley is a feast for the brain, let me tell you. It boasts so many hippy-dippy joints with the most Berkeley of names: The Aquarius Cafe, the Life Loves You Diner and my personal new fav….the Nut Cruncher Cafe which was closed when I passed it. I can only guess it’s either a new age all organic tree hugger lunch spot, or an Extreme Feminist Lesbian joint. Either way, it piqued my interest and made me grin and shake my head.

Now I sit, with my tea from Sweet Adelines (I picked up a tin of Harney and Sons ‘Pomegranate Oolong’ for AtH and a tin of ‘Paris’ for me…it’s raining, I felt the urge for ‘a delicious blend reminiscent of the city of lights, Paris’) and a piece of their unbeatable chocolate cream pie. Dretti is waiting for me to come and sew him up. He jumped on a metal cannister I brought home from IKEA and ripped a hole in his chest that I now get to go shoot up with lidocaine and suture closed. This should be fun. But I think I’ll finish my tea and pie first.

A girl’s gotta have her priorities you know. 😉

*The only thing that would have garnered more irritation and rant from me would have been one of those pink lined “Expectant Mother” parking spots. That really gets me going. Aren’t you SUPPOSED to exercise when you’re pregnant? What gives you the privilege of having your own special parking spot, snuggled right up to one of the doors of the shopping establishment???? If you’re SO PREGNANT that walking across the parking lot is going to be a detriment to your health, doesn’t it stand to reason that hoofing it around the mall isn’t going to be such a great idea either? And if that’s the case, then couldn’t you get a temporary handicap permit from your physician? If that, indeed, is the case and there is something that you simply MUST put yourself and your unborn child in mortal danger to obtain, at the…mall. “But Lisa” you say, “you’ve never been pregnant, you don’t understand”. Nope, never been pregnant, but I do tote around two infant sized boobs on a daily basis, and man, phwew…these things are hell on the back. Perhaps there should be special parking for the overly endowed, you know, so we don’t have to tote our huge boobs any further than absolutely necessary. Same concept, precious cargo and all…..I’m just sayin’.

More kitties?


Going out last nite to check on the horses and chickens, I saw a couple cats underneath one of the oak trees behind the barn. They were a hundred+ feet away, but they looked like young cougars – a few months old maybe. I first thought they were bobcat, but they had tails, and we larger than any of our barn kitties (plus, none our our barn kitties are matching tan).

They scampered away after I shone the light on ’em for a bit and I didn’t see any adult with ’em. I hope they were just getting out of the rain on their way back to the park.

We really should just put a sign out: