Now now, I'm not one to beat a dead horse. This is just a bit o' info for fellow CHL fans ('cause we still got game, HAH!).
Word on the street is that Dallas Anderson (most recently of the Austin Ice Bats) has auditioned for the next season of 'reality tv's' Big Brother, along with a buddy of his.
I hope he makes it, just for the entertainment factor. He cracks me up every time I see him on the ice, skatin' around with his mouth hanging open like some half-wit.
Hey Dallas, your village called...they want their idiot back.
Okay, so not too original, but still funny, yes?
Tip of the day...Don't eat yellow snow.
So recently I was talking with some girlfriends, and quite naturally the conversation turned to men, dates, relationships, yadda yadda yadda. Typical hen-party stuff.
I discovered something a little odd about myself.
Evidently I have some sort of fear of money.
More specifically, of talking about it. Or seeing it. Or something.
When I am with close friends, when I was married, I have had no problem dealing with financial discussions. It doesn't bother me to discuss my own finances. It does not embarrass me to have to say, "No can do, my budget is too tight this month," when friends want to do something that is out of my reach.
But on a date? *sigh*
When I am on a date, especially if it is someone new, I get uncomfortable thinking about $$.
If we go to a pricey restaurant, the back of my mind is thinking, "I hope he can afford this place".
I never, ever order anything expensive, I tend to select something in the lowest price range.
I NEVER look at the check when it comes.
I discreetly look away when he opens his wallet to
A. Grab a credit card or
B. Count out the cash.
I also am embarrassed when I'm out with people who under-tip. I frequently go back to the table in order to leave some extra $$, especially if the service has been outstanding.
I've been known to tip $2 for a $1.50 cup of coffee.
Can you tell that I've been a waitress and lived off tips?
Because I have. I spent many years doing that very thing. I generally leave at least 20%, sometimes more for most excellent service. I ALWAYS leave something, even for horrible service, especially when it isn't the server's fault.
But that doesn't explain my weirdness on dates.
I can find within myself no rational explanation for this behavior.
Perhaps I should ask the Doctors what they think...
Proving that the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing...
On The Early Show this morning, some lady who's name I forget was being interviewed regarding the jury selection for the Michael Jackson trial. The subject here was a 70-something white woman with a nephew who has been convicted of child molestation.
This is paraphrased, as my memory is not what it once was.
'On one hand, being a woman, the defense likes her because she's likely to be more compassionate. On the OTHER hand, being older, the prosecution likes her because she's probably more willing to hand down a conviction.
On the OTHER hand, having a relative who's been convicted of the same crime...'
Just how many hands does this lady have? I think she ought to get that checked out. Could be serious. Of course she may be a lawyer, so that third hand will come in handy...one hand to shake, one hand to clap you on the back with, while the third dips into your pocket...
***My apologies to my attorney friends, I couldn't resist the obvious joke at your expense. I HAVE actually known some lovely people who just happened to be lawyers.