Send Off

Tonight, it's drinks with co-workers for a fellow co-workers depature to a new agency. It seems to be that adertising is a lot of drinking to celebrate comings, goings, new accounts, and if things have gone badly, you drink too. Just after hours.

We're going to pub crawl in my neighborhood, so that's good news for me. It means that I can drink and walk with no problems. Will it be gin and tonic or microbrewed beer?

Can't say. Don't know yet. I do know the last time I was drinking in Royal Oak, my friend refused to leave the bar, so I walked home. Luckily it was only a few blocks.

In other news, I forgot my wallet today. No money, no ID, nada. I do have a mini can of diet coke, coffee, and a magazine, so all hope isn't lost. :)

Rain Boot Extravengza

Spring is almost here in Michigan. Technically, I think yesterday was springs calendar debut, but it is hard pressed to tell with the 35 degree weather just yesterday.

But, I did notice sprouts of grass and plenty of rain this morning. Which leads to my new obsession: Rain boots. I saw a pair of rain boots of the Kate Spade variety a few months back and suddenly thought, " I need rain boots."

I'm am at times a bit impulsive. I once took a photo of Hallie Berry to the salon and had the girl cut my hair like Hallie's. She can pull it off. Me, you could see my scalp when I turned sideways.

I played golf on the spur of the moment for work when I was a property manager for a HUD property. When I tried to protest, explaining I'd never played golf, they told me, I'd get the day off with pay, drive around in a cart, eat free steak dinner, and subside the meat with free beer. Well, how can one argue with that?

After said golf outing (I was awful), I decided to take up golf so I took lessons. Then I wanted golf clubs for Christmas. My dad told me to wait to see if I really, really liked golf.

Turned out I didn't. Which brings me back to my rain boots. The Kate Spade ones were classic stylish and expensive, but they lacked the fun of a rain boot. They were more for ladies that take the train to work, carry attache cases and never spill their coffee, or smear their lipstick.

Me though: I'm a puddle jumping mess. I drag a ratty tote bag into the office every morning, with my homemade lunch in an old Target Bag. I never have lipstick on, and I've dropped my coffee mug and watched it roll across the parking lot more than once.

So, I hunted online and found rain boots that were cheaper and more me. These were fun and not to pr icy, so I won't have to feel guilty if I don't wear them 800 times.

But I love boots. I used to have a pair of red boots that I apparently loved so much I insisted on wearing even in summer. And it's then that I decided rain boots are not impulsive for me, they're a rite of passage.

Quote This

A few quotes from a few movies that resonate with me.


What is your name?
Butch: Butch.
Esmeralda: What does it mean?
Butch: I'm American, honey. Our names don't mean shit.

Pulp Fiction

Was one of those movies that left me changed to the point where it hasn't left me, even 13 years later. Every time I hear the music, it brings me back to a summer of drinking, being young and carefree.


You're not like my other teachers, Professor Tripp.
Grady Tripp: You're not like my other students, James.

Wonder Boys

A movie about writing that is very funny, but subtle funny. The sort of movie that gets funnier every time I see it.

Is that what you call giving cover?
Sundance Kid: Is that what you call running? If I knew you were going to stroll...

Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid

One of the best movies of all time. Hands down. Redford and Newman are great actors who started the buddy movie trend. Love, love love this movie!

I know there are many more, but this is the kind of post that will require future updates.

Half Optimist

I watched the movie, Half Nelson last night. The subject matter was a tad depressing, (teacher addicted to crack), but it was a good story in that it wasn't all down-trodden and the story didn't wrap up in some neat little bow at the end. The teacher was played by Ryan Gosling who did a great job in my opinion.

He had a line in the movie about, every time the sun comes up we're blessed with a new day." While that idea isn't new, it was nice for me to be reminded of that once in a while. Today is better than yesterday for me, and maybe tommorow will be even better.

Maybe it's cause I went to the gym, or because the sun is out, or because I got a haircut. Who knows?

I'm just looking forward to feeling good for the rest of the day, minus the tiredness.

I consider myself a cynical optimist. It fits me most of the time.

The Quinlan O Family

Happy St. Patrick's Day on this soon to be Irish revelery weekend.

It seems that everyone is Irish on St. Patrick's Day and I'm ok with it. A friend just asked if I was feeling any more Irish today. I'm sure he was joking, but in fact I don't feel any more Irish today than I will next week.

Probably because I don't know how it feels to be anything else. I love to celebrate my heritage but that has meant green beer in the past. Now, it just means that I love my huge family. I love that I may go months or weeks between family gatherings, but as soon as I see one of my cousins, aunts or uncles we hug like it was yesterday. We pick up in the middle of the same joke, laugh about the next installment of certain family stories, all while drinking, laughing and sharing.

My Aunt Pat has started collecting all of the family history into wonderful movies on dvd for us all to enjoy. I love pictures too and seeing all of my uncles, aunts and grandparents when they were young. I look forward to my generation and seeing where me and all my cousins end up. Some things I have learned from growing up Irish.

1. Irish people like to love. We welcome all friends like they're family. If you come to a party, expect to be interrogated and then welcomed with wide open arms.
2. Yes, there is the drinking.
3. I know that I will always be a fighter. I'm a kind and gentle person who often gets mistaken as meek. Go ahead, underestimate me or talk down to me. You won't do it twice.
4. Pride- Irish people in general and it seems my family especially are full of pride. Our last name is revered, tattoted, printed on shirts, and even when the women in the family marry they often keep Quinlan.
5. You can't just leave a family party unannounced, unless your Uncle Tony. He's scooted away a few times. But the tradition is to hug everyone and spend at least 30 minutes saying good-bye. If one has somewhere to be, you better plan for the goodbye to get out on time.
6.We're not a flashy family. I'm sure we all do fine in our respective jobs, but no one is going to suck up to you because you dress in fancy clothes or have a big career. We love our tree-trimmers with as much vigor as our professional althetes. We also have a few teachers, an undertaker, a copywriter, an accountant, speech therapist, marketing person, copywriter, artist, canoe livery operator, producer of a quilting show on PBS.

But as soon as somebody gets a big ego, you'll get knocked down on your ass.

I miss my family but I take comfort in knowing they're all a family party away and if I ever get in trouble, they will be there, which brings me to 7.
7. We show up. When my brother Shane was hurt in a tree accident, the whole family came down by the van-ful to pile into Shane's hospital room.

When my dad was sick with cancer and chemo treatments his brothers and sisters came down in shifts to visit and help me my brother and my mom out. When my cousin Travis died last year, my dad came to the wake even though he was pretty sick, he wanted to be there for his brothers, sisters, neices and nephews.

Well, Irish people like to talk and since I'm finally out of steam, I'll leave you to have your Irish memories, I'm late for a potluck lunch here at the office.

Happy St.Patrick's Day to one and all.

Be Safe.

Apples are not Oranges

I felt like I had to take hand to keyboard today and get something down. Have been under a work cloud lately and haven't been able to pay my blog too much attention.

Did I get my free Starbucks coffee this morning? Yes, I did. I usually make coffee at home most mornings, and I did this morning, but some days there just isn't enough of it.

After work I'm going to the Apple store to buy a new bag for my laptop. I tried to cheap out and buy one at Walmart, but that simply won't too. My computer is too skinny and slides too and fro. So, it's off to Apple I go.

I realize I spent enough money on the computer so I might as well pony up the money to carry it around, or there isn't much of a point in buying a laptop.

No Takers on the Death Express

This morning during my morning commute, I discovered something even more unsettling and nerve inducing than having a cop drive behind you.

A hearst. Yes, a hearst followed me all the way to work and I kept feeling like the Grim Reaper was out for a joy ride and wanted company.

Sorry buddy. Not today. How come he didn't follow me yesterday when I was feeling a bit down, defeated and depressed?

No, he waits till today when I'm rather tired, but in a better mood.

Ah well. I made it to work without taking a turn on the death cab.

So, things are looking up.

Giant Button of Grace

This morning was a good sleeping morning. The kind of morning where the covers are just warm enough, snuggled just so that I was full cocooned and could have slept for days.

But as is custom for those of us who need money, I had to get out of bed to go the gym, and then on to work.

And here I am. But I often trick myself, promising myself if I get up I'll be able to take a nap later. This is a lie I'll tell myself, but I fall for it every morning.

I do notice that the only time I'm an excellent mathematician is when my snooze button is involved. I can calculate to the second, how much longer I get to sleep if I push it, and how many times I can do it, till I've run out of snooze time.

If only we'd cover snooze button math in Algebra rather than FOIL (First, Outside, Inside, Last), I'd have gotten an A+. My snooze button is my magic genie, my granter of sleep in seven minute increments.

I couldn't live without it. Or coffee. Or showering. Or chocolate. Or rambling.

Land Of Oz

For those of you who may have seen the news yesterday, the tornado that hit Enterprise Alabama, is the town where my cousin Colleen and her son Patrick live.

Patrick goes to the high school, but luckily he wasn't in school yesterday and is fine.

So is Colleen, and I'm so glad. Our big family doesn't talk or gather every day, but that doesn't mean we don't care about each other. In fact, it's been a rough week and year for the family.

My cousin Travis died a year ago this week at 28. I was reminded of this and how life is so precious especially again after yesterday, and I'm grateful that we won't be facing another tragedy today.

Not much other news. I'm just feeling grateful this morning that my big huge Irish clan are all doing ok and I take comfort in knowing that even if I don't talk to them all everyday, there are all only a phone call away.

Stop the Maddness

Anna Nicole Smith.

Small town girl dreamed of making it rich.
Got pregnant young and had a son.
Outfitted herself in big hair and fake boobs.
Became a stripper.
Married an old, old man.
Become a Millionaire.
He died.
She lost her money.
Fought, fought and fought again to get it back.
Used drugs.
Got fat.
Lost the weight.
Got pregnant.
Gained weight.
Had Baby Girl.
Son died.
Lost weight.
Did drugs.
She died.


Now please, can we stop? I don't need to hear one more story, one more entertainment show dedicated to Anna Nicole. The amazing part is how little information anyone has, but yet they dedicate weeks and weeks to her death, while she was alive these same shows helped make fun of her.

I wasn't an Anna Nicole Smith fan, but I'd hoped she'd turn her life around. Sadly she didn't, but the news media really needs to stop reporting her every move, lack of move, burial plan etc.

There is a war going on, thousands of young men and women fighting for our own good living are dying and we gloss over that to skip ahead to see where Anna Nicole will be buried.

Listen, I'm no saint. I read gossip magazines. I read because it helps me forgot how sad and unforgiving the world can be. But I also try and keep up on current events and I'm not talking about how a stripper spent her last day on earth.

I pray that between all these handlers, one of them will be looking out for the best interest of her daughter, so that she may grow up in a world where we spent at least some of our energy on things that matter.

I Wasn't Special I Guess

"We need to stop endlessly repeating 'You're special' and having children repeat that back."

This bit of wisdom comes the way of Yahoo and is an exert about college students becoming more self centered, more indulged and thus more spoiled. I tend to agree to a certain extent. My college experience was one of hard work, plenty of drinking, two or sometimes three jobs, and learning all kinds of things that couldn't be taught in any classroom.

1. Living with a slutty girl who would sneak off in the night to sleep with random men, not my cup of tea.

2. Having a single dollar for three weeks, because as soon as I broke it, I'd be left with a pile of change, which was somehow worse.

3. Working late nights in the computer lab, because no one really had their own computers back then.

4. Wasn't allowed to have a car as a freshman on campus. Which actually turned out to be a good thing. It forced me to stay up in Big Rapids, and get to know people.
5. Forced to eat in the cafeteria, which meant on Sundays, the hall was closed at 2pm. Most Sunday nights, I ate microwave popcorn for dinner.

6. My parents did what they could to send me money, but they sort of spend it all sending me to college. Extra spending money was up to me. Over the course of four plus years in college, I worked at the cafeteria as a dish-washer, In the Hockey Rink as a concession stand worker, at a Hot and Now, that I had to stalk till they gave me a job, and my reward was a bright purple T-Shirt that said, Hot and Now on it with a lightning bolt in bold yellow, and my final job, which I held for a few years was the carry out window of a certain dining hall. I worked back there pretty much on my own, took phone orders and handed food out the window. This was mostly fine, until the word got out, that apparently I had a "sexy phone voice", and men would call and order pizza like they'd just dialed a 900 number.

7. Having $8 dollars in my bank account, so I had to go to the bank drive-thru and ask for my money.

8. Living on rasin bran for several weeks at a time, as it was filling and cheap.

9. Going to Casey McNab's on Tuesdays for Quarter taco night, and having just enough left over for one beer.

10. Riding around town on the Dial a Ride, which was this big bus that would take you anywhere for a dollar. Not that great of a treat when the only places you could go were K-Mart, and the Dairy Queen, but only in the summer.

If I ever have kids, I'll make sure they have jobs so they appreciate things more and don't expect things to be handed to them, but hopefully they won't have to hold three jobs, plus school.

I'm not complaining, but I sure didn't whine about my lack of computer or much else. I was and still am grateful that my parents could send me to college. That was my gift. And I never forgot how hard they both worked to give me an education. It wasn't their job. If they chose too, after high school they could've just told me, that's it. You're on your own. But they didn't.

In case either of you are reading this, thanks mom and dad.

I dressed for Comfort

If anyone in cyber space is paying attention, I mentioned in my last blog that I may dress up for the Academy Awards. I didn't though. Opted instead for fleece pajamas.

I was still feeling a bit under the weather and had little energy for pomp and circumstance. I ate what I can only assume was a tainted frozen meal Saturday afternoon, and got pretty sick within two hours after consuming it.

Graphic details aren't needed. Suffice it to say, I'm going to write a letter to my friends at Smart Ones, whose parent company is Heinz to share my joy with them. If anyone deserves to hear about how their frozen goodness made me sick, it's them.

Friday night though, I did go to a trendy eatery, The Clarkston Union, which is renowned for their Macaroni and cheese. I tasted it. Yes, it was good, but I'm not sure it lived up to all the hype. The salad I ate before it was better.

And that's all I've got for this Monday Morning.

Not the Hulk

I'm not an angry person. I think I'm fairly even tempered, and am not prone to emotional bursts of anger. I've worked in close proximiety to co-workers and despite stress, frustration and angst, I'm pretty good about staying level-headed.

There are a few people in my life that can make me angry in 3 seconds flat, but those are exceptions, not the norm. I don't tend to operate out of that mode. Often people mistake that for being a push-over.

That is not true.

Lately, I get angry every morning when my alarm goes off at 6 a.m.ish, telling me it's time to go to the gym. And once I rouse myself out of bed, stumble around, dress myself and brush my teeth and get in the car, when I finally get to the gym, I just want to do what I want.

But lately, it's been crowded. New people standing on my treadmill, crowding their way on to my bike and all I want to do is yell for them to get the hell out of my way.

I don't of course, because truth be told, they aren't doing anything wrong. It just pisses me off. That's part of the reason, I drag myself out of bed at that ungodly hour. Because after 5 pm, it's even worse with gym whores.

I'll continue to endure this torture for a while. I'm a mission, but I just don't play well with others at 6 a.m.

Chocolate Covered

The red cellophane hearts are being sold off today like blankets on the side of the road.

Yes, the holiday aftermath. That sad day when a once festive holiday is turned into a ravaged rack of broken cupids, smashed candy and broken conversation hearts, all things pink, and boxes of leftover kiddie Valentines.

Let's make room for the Easter themed junk. I'm just thankful I don't work in a retail setting because shoving the holidays down people's throats would depress me. And how did I spend Valentine's Day?

Had dinner and went to Walmart to get a birthday gift for Karlene's daughter Gwynn. I thought the store would be pretty empty and thankfully it was. I selected a Hokey Pokey Elmo Doll that dances.

Seemed pretty cute for a 2 year old. Her party is on Saturday and since I don't have kids, I'm enjoying playing with my friend's children. Then I can leave.

My dad did call me last night, which was nice and we had a good conversation. I'm not sure if I was alarmed to find out we share some similar political views.

He asked if I was lonely since it was Valentine's Day?

"Not anymore lonely than I was on Tuesday."

I'm lucky that so many people care about me. I appreciate the cards and the well wishes.

Nothing compares to last V-Day, when Becky and I went to Taco Bell.

Now that's romantic.

Bring in the Stupid

Short entry today as I've got to leave early for an appointment.

Anyway, between the long boring meeting to nowhere this morning, the random construction noises and my Microsoft Word defaulting to German, I haven't gotten a whole lot done.

Which is not that surprising considering I wasn't given any clear direction, just " make it new."

Ok. Check.

In other news, my mom is in town and she is coming over to spend the evening with me on Friday. Should be fun. Yes, I get along with my mom and yes I think she's fun but no, we're not the Gilmore Girls.

Fuck them. :)

Lunchtime and then appointment in Ann Arbor.

And the Oscar Goes Too

The Oscars are just around the corner. Who will win Best Picture, Who is that? and Really? That Movie was nominated?

All kinds of questions surround Oscar Night. This year's question I am wrestling with, is Will I dress up again?

Several years ago, My friend and I got all dressed up for the Oscars and watched them at home. You've got to get some use out of those old bridesmaid dresses. I found a glittery top heavy with Jewel crusted stones and a long black skirt. I did my hair like I was going to the prom, and Karlene dressed in similar attire.

We served snacks on silver platters, had drinks out of champagne flutes, and making a grand entrance by waltzing down the stair case.

I haven't done my Oscar ritual since, but my family still talks about it. I think they think that I'm insane. And maybe I am. But I sure had fun. The problem was that it was just the two of us there.

Now that I live alone, I'm not sure I'll bother to get all dressed up. Because really being all dressed up in full evening gown attire, at home alone, at some point is a little too reminiscent of Mrs. Habbersham in Great Expectations.

Either way, I've got a few weeks to decide what I'm wearing.

Comfortably Numb

How's everything going with you? Tell me a story.

nik



There once was a girl who was sad with the state of
her life. Her friends were moving away, having babies,
getting engaged, or planning weddings.
She did not wish to become a bridesmaid.
Again.

She works in advertising doing ads for one of the BiG 3,
and last week when she saw smoke across the street, she prayed that X
was burning down its Headquarters for the insurance
money.

She doesn't have any matches and is not a suspect.

As her saddness comes and goes, she wallows a bit, but
true to her Irish nature, decides it isn't time to
lay down.

She forged again into her gym foray of late, enlisting
the help of an older brother, who tutored her on the
weight machines, to supplement her early morning
cardio routine. She's been exercising and trying to
eat healthfully for a few months now.

Feeling optimistic, she hopped on her bathroom scale
even as she cringed inwardly with such an unhelpful
tool.

But she is her father's daughther, and got on anyway.
She learned then why she HATED an unliving thing.
How could the weight be exactly one pound heavier than
when she started, yet her clothes were getting looser
and her face was thinning out?

It was then she decided it was all bullshit.

She knew she was working hard and knew she's going to
be a lot happier when she loses this weight. She
joined Weight Watchers online for some added
structure, opting this time to skip the in person
meetings. She realized she's not that nice, and
doesn't care to waste time listening to other ladies
talk about fiber and filling salad toppings.

She knows she can do this on her own, and is finding
WW online a good alternative. She likes any reason to
play with her new MacBook laptop that she bought herself.

She hired someone to do a web site for
her, to put up her portfolio. She was just contacted by a new
recruiter yesterday, and is optimistic about finding a
new job. Hopefully, in a few months.

She read on Yahoo, an article about the top 5 jobs for
2007, copywriter is one of those jobs. And in even
higher demand are CW's who are skilled in both
Interactive and Print. This makes her smile.

This weekend, she's going to hang out with a friend
and spend the rest of it, organizing her job
search materials, watch a documentary from Netflix,and
try not to freeze to death in Michigan's record low
cold tempertures.

She wonders if a new city and a new shape will shake
up the men. She listens to Hot Child every morning on
the treadmill, and knows, "She can be a hot child in
the city, where all the boys all stop and stare."

She doesn't want that attention from men on looks
alone, but is tired of getting used for her brain. She
is boycotting any more male friendships. If the men
don't wish to sleep with her, she doesn't wish to make
them laugh or engage in conversation. Previous male
friends will be grandfathered in, and should not
become alarmed that she will randomly attack them.

Married men friends are not targets either.

She is happy that a renegade cowboy, Nik is her friend
and is planning to run into him sometime again in this
lifetime.

She wants to buy him a beer, and talk about Redford
and Newman, and Mr. Cash.

He never expected such a long story, but he knows how
she can ramble.

Phone Home

this was your baby, and now i got 'em send me a birthday card or the little fucker gets it.....................

The note above followed the picture in an email from my brother Shane. When we we're kids, he really loved the movie ET. I guess things have changed.
He used to wear a necklace with ET's head on it. In his defense, he was probably 8 or 9. But we grew up seeing ET in the theater and we were young enough to think it was a pretty cool movie. It came out when movies were an Event, and stayed in the theaters for months.

So, back to the hanging of ET.

A few summers ago, Connie and I were up in Lake Leelanau visiting my mom for the weekend. C. wanted to go see some shops, and we came upon a thrift store, that I swear was a storage bin for old shit from Sanford and Son.

And there on a table piled with misc. crap sat ET.
I bought him for Shane for his birthday as a joke.

Fast forward a few weeks. Shane called to invite me out on the lake with him and Jeff for the day. Boating is always preferable to sweating, so I took him up on the offer. I packed up ET and brought him along. When I got to Jeff's house, I pulled ET out of my bag and handed him to Shane.

Since S. is no longer 8, but closer to 35, he looked at me, and said,"

"What the hell is this?"

Me: "It's ET."

"I can see that, but why did you buy me a doll?"

Me: "It's ET."

Shane was not impressed, and I was sick of driving around with him in my car.
His head had already fallen off on me, and I'd performed emergency surgery in the car.

But even ailens need a little sun, so I brought him on the boat.

And then forgot him. I'd planned to take him and find him a good home. I felt it was my duty after I'd paid a whole quarter.

A few days later, the ransom letter arrived in my Inbox.

Next year, Shane got a card.

Dragon Slayer

Some days I wake up ready to tackle the world. Other days, I just feel run over and want to take a nap.

This morning was somewhere in the middle. I slayed virtual Dragons this morning. To borrow a phrase from Elvis, I TCB. (Took Care of Business). Hopped on Netflix to report my missing movie that supposedly arrived two days ago and didn't.

Then emailed Communication Arts to inform them that my subscription was running out two months early for no apparent reason, they agreed and promised to correct the problem.

I then tackled Sallie Mae. Actually that student loan has been off my back, but I had to print a summary of interest paid for tax purposes.

So, really not that exciting. No fire, no swords or threats of sudden death. I found it liberating just the same. Tonight, I will take on the mammoth check book and my pile of bills.

Whoo-HOO

Free Time

Last night's drive home was a good one. Meaning the roads were dry, traffic moved and I got home at a decent time. Amazing what a decent commute will do for one's mood.

My usual ritual is to arrive home, throw the mail on the coffee table, hang up my coat, and then sit on the couch for a few mintues to just breathe.

After that I dig around in the kitchen for dinner. Last night was quick because I had leftovers. Then I unwind with an episode of Friends which is the equilviant of eating a big bowl of Mac and Cheese.

Then I cruised over to the library to return some books, and of course picked up some more. I can't stop when they're is free media. I snagged Dave Eggers new book, What is What. Then I got some free movies.

Searching for Debra Winger, an doc about actresses in Hollywood and Mad Hot Ballroom and the entire second season of Six Feet Under. Love that show, and I know I've seen most of that season once upon a time, but it's a good thing to watch in the evening.

Maybe that's why I've been depressed?

After the library, I went to Target to pick up some household items and decided to treat myself to a Valentine Day t-shirt. It does not expressly support V-Day, but I thought it was cute, and is really just an extension of my love of the theme sock.

If nothing else, I can use a few more long sleeve t-shirts for the gym. Shane came over on Saturday and showed me an entire weight routine to supplement my cardio.

I'll be picking up cars with my bare hands in no time.