Remember when…

•May 27, 2009 • 6 Comments

Remember when I created a quiz to see how well you knew me?  Turns out not a whole lot of you did, but I loved that you all tried.

Remember when I got hate mail from someone who thought my blog was self-centered?  It took him three hours to figure that all out.  Friggin’ idiot.

Remember when I created my very own poem to wish you folks a good holiday?  That was one of my favorite posts because it was one of my most sincere efforts on this blog and I really enjoyed writing it.

Remember when I posted 5 burning questions for my male readers?  I got the biggest response from that post, a record-breaking 36 comments according to haloscan.  Remember haloscan?  Man, I hate them, they didn’t keep any of your comments.  I have the email notifications of them, but not the actual site/link whatchamacallit.  Bastards.

Remember my first blogmeet and the ones that followed?  Seemed a long time ago.

Remember when Jay left and Jack took down his blog and Gooch went into hibernation?  Remember Fleece?  Well, I’m afraid it’s my turn to say goodbye.  Like Jay, I’m too narcissistic to take down my blog entirely.  I thought I’d leave it up for posterity’s sake or if any of you feel like taking a stroll down memory lane.

This blog has run its course and it was a good run, I thought.  I have 590 published posts, thousands of comments, twenty-nine blog categories, thirteen people on my blogroll and zero regrets.

I’ll still be around to read and comment on your blogs if you have one.  For those who don’t, you have my email or phone number, so don’t be a stranger.  And who knows?  I may still meet some of you someday (that means you, Inanna, Jammie J and Michael).  For those I’ve already met, I hope our paths meet again.

Well, folks, I think that about does it.  I’m terrible at goodbyes, so instead I’ll just say thank you for all the memories.


Protected: Eternal flame

•May 21, 2009 • Enter your password to view comments.

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Sepiatone loving

•May 21, 2009 • 1 Comment

We recently found an old photo album of baby pictures from the Philippines.  It only had about 40 pictures in it, but all 40 were of me!  Imagine that, 40 baby pictures of your favorite Bad Beth blogger!

Since I’m feeling a bit generous, I’ve scanned some of them and have decided to share them with you.  They also uncovered a long, lost scrapbook created by my oldest and dearest group of friends.  The pictures in that scrapbook were taken during my first year in high school, a whopping 18 years ago!  They made that scrapbook for me when they found out that my family was moving to Vegas, isn’t that sweet?  My friends and I spent a good hour holding our sides from laughing at our younger, dorkier selves.  But you won’t get to see those pictures because 1) we were WAY dorky and 2) my friends will kill me if they found out I posted them on the interwebs. 

But I hope you enjoy these baby pictures.  Click on the pictures to enlarge and see descriptions.  And if you want to see more, click here.


If she knew what she wants

•May 20, 2009 • 4 Comments

Confession:  my new favorite show on tv is “Dancing With The Stars.”

When you’re done laughing, I’ll tell you why.

I love to dance.  It makes me feel alive, I get exercise and it’s tons of fun!  Several weeks ago, I took a free swing dance lesson at the Newark Museum (in celebration of their 100th anniversary).  I’ve always wanted to learn how to swing dance, so when I found out how quickly I picked up on it, I have been dying to find a good dance studio to start learning.   And not just swing dancing, I want to learn all kinds of ballroom dancing.  I once confessed to someone that I’d love to learn how to tap dance.  He laughed at me and for the most part, that’s the reason why I’ve never even considered taking a dance class before.   

Anyway, dancing doesn’t come naturally for a lot of people.  And even if it does, it still takes practice, skill and a lot of hard work to do it right and do it well.   So, teaching so-called stars how to dance is something I can truly appreciate.   But watching them do it?  Meh, I actually couldn’t care less, which is why I didn’t even bother watching the first 7 seasons.

But on their season premier 11 weeks ago, out of sheer curiosity, I watched this show and was instantly hooked!  They took 13 “celebrities” totally out of their comfort zones and into the ballroom and it was mesmerizing to watch! 

I loved watching these awkward, graceless, rhythmically challenged “stars” put so much effort into dancing.  I watched them struggle through the salsa, the pasa doble, the jive and the quick step (to name a few).  And week after week, my heart went out to them as they rose to each challenge.

Last night was the season finale.  They had three “stars” in the finals.  I won’t bother to tell you who the other two were because you won’t know who they are, hence the quotation marks.   But the winner was Shawn Johnson, a 17-year old gymnast and medalist from the 2008 Beijing Olympics.  She’s a gymnast, folks.  They’re trained not to show emotion.   They’re extremely focused, slightly uptight creatures and despite their “floor routines”, they are completely lacking in grace and fluidity (well, some more than others). 

But her focus allowed her to learn faster than the others, so that her technique was always flawless.   She went from a tumbling, flipping mass of energy to a sophisticated, mature little dancing queen!  And if she can do it, so can I!!  THAT is what I love about the show.  They took people with little to no dancing experience at all and transformed them into dancing pro’s!  Well, nearly pro.   And each one of them looked like they had so much fun during the whole process!

That and I LOVE the outfits!  I have yet to see a professional dancer who didn’t have fantastic legs and cleavage!

The video below is the dance that won the championship for Shawn.  It’s the cha-cha-cha and its danced to one of my all-time favorite Michael Jackon songs.  This is why I voted for Shawn.  I don’t think I’ve enjoyed television this much in so long!  I was so very happy she won last night, cause she deserved it. 

Problem now is, with the season finale, I no longer have anything to watch on Mondays.  And I just found out that another one of my favorite shows on tv was cancelled, “Life.”  I am seriously considering giving up TV altogether.

Manic Monday

•May 19, 2009 • 4 Comments

I woke up this morning with a start.  It was so bright and sunny outside that I knew I had overslept.  So, I rolled off the bed and landed face down on the floor.  I picked myself up,  headed for the door and stubbed my right toe on a dresser.  That’s when I realized that I didn’t have my glasses on and can’t see a damn thing without them.  So, I blindly searched for my glasses when I stubbed the same toe on the same dresser again!

Oh, fuck it, I said to myself, and headed for the bathroom to shower.  But, without said glasses, I kept bumping into things, made the water too hot and nearly died from scalding.

After the shower, I got dressed and by some miracle, I was able to pull off an outfit in less than 5 minutes (cause it takes me so long just to figure out what I’m gonna wear).  Even my hair looks fabulous with very little fuss. 

I got in my car and got on the turnpike when I remembered that I didn’t get a chance to check the traffic! It’s the one thing I never forget to do in my daily routine for work.  So there I was, driving on the turnpike, getting tense because I knew it was a Monday and Monday traffic is always the worst.

But I was pleasantly surprised to see very few cars on the road this morning and got to work in under 40 minutes.

When I got into the office, everyone checked their watches in surprise.  “What are you doing here this early?” they asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m late, no need for sarcasm.”

“Late?  Beth, what time do you think it is?”

“Uhhh….I don’t know. What time is it?  I forgot to wear a watch today.”

“It’s 8:00 o’clock in the morning!”

“But…but, it’s so sunny outside!  It’s got to be at least 10:30!”


“Damn it!  Oh, well, that explains why the Monday Traffic wasn’t so bad”

“Beth, it’s Tuesday.   Remember?  You were off yesterday.  Man, how much drinking did you do this weekend and why are you limping?”

“Never mind, it’s a long story.”

Notes on the Mystic weekend

•May 17, 2009 • 3 Comments

These are actual notes I jotted down in my handy-dandy little notebook.

  • If you’re still lucid when you’re in a casino at 3am, you’re either pregnant or…well, I just don’t know what’s wrong with you. 
  • I’m too old to be going to bed at 4am  and getting up at 9am the next day. 
  • Krispy Kremes are so fucking good ANY TIME OF THE DAY.  
  • No other town outside of Hollywood has more pictures of Julia Roberts than Mystic, Connecticut.  Sorry, but I don’t think she’s all that pretty. 
  • Mystic’s a quaint little seaport town filled with great seafood restaurants and boutique shops (with funny little names like “Seamen’s Inne” and “You’ve Got To Be Beading”), none of which I got to see because of the dreary, foggy weather and the fact that I had a hankering for steak. 
  • Brutal honesty is something I can only stand from people who have known me longer than 5 years. 
  • There’s something oddly comforting about hearing someone else snore when they’re sleeping. 
  • I hate, hate, hate, hate driving through the Bronx.  Hate it. 
  • There really is nothing better than coming home after a great road trip and being able to be blog vaguely about it.

Have you seen my turkey?

•May 14, 2009 • 1 Comment

I was driving home from work this afternoon, on a quiet country-like road lined with thick, tall trees, when suddenly, a giant bird tried to cross right in front of me!  Luckily, I was only driving 5mph over the speed limit (which was 25mph), so I didn’t put too much strain on my brake pads.  But the sudden stop was enough to throw my purse and its contents all over the place. 

The stupid bird stopped in the middle of the road.  It bobbed its head at me as if to ask, “Well?  Are you going to let me cross or are you going to drive on, pal?” 

I, of course, waited for it to move on, but the stupid bird didn’t.  We played the waiting game for maybe a minute when it suddenly looked behind him, made a few warbling noises, and ran off.  I shook my head, wondered what the hell that was all about and decided to pull over so I could pick up the crap that fell out of my purse. 

I had barely put the parking brake on when I saw someone approaching my car.  Something about this fellow didn’t make me want to reach for my cell phone and dial 9-1-1.  For one thing, he looked dumbstruck.  He had the kind of look on his face that said, “What in tarnation did I do with that chick’n?”  And the other thing was, he was pretty cute!

He stopped at the front of my car and yelled out, “Ma’am, have you seen my turkey?”

Maybe it was the embarrassed smile he gave me, or maybe I had way too much coffee today, but something made me reply, “Your turkey?  Uh, what does it look like?”  I could barely contain my giggles.

“Well, ma’am, it’s a big bird.  It’s black.  It’s got a small, ugly head.  And it’s got, like, that red, flappy skin on it’s neck, you know.”

“Sorry, I was just joking.  Of course I know what a turkey looks like and yeah, he just crossed the street and went that way.”

“He did?! Must be trying to reach the other farm again.  Damn bird’s escaped three times already!  Well, thank you, ma’am, you have a good day!”  With a quick wave of his hand and a boyish smile, he ran through the trees and disappeared into the woods. 

I love how my commute is never boring.