Pickles & Dimes

I was tagged awhile back. Here’s 7 random facts/weird things about me.

1. I get physically uncomfortable watching awards shows, especially during the speeches. I get extremely twitchy and feel the need to change the channel THAT INSTANT. I’m not sure what my problem is, but Jason has to listen to me say, “GOD, I HATE award shows” anytime he channel surfs and comes across one.

2. I am extremely fascinated by forensic pathology. I think if I would’ve had this interest 15 years ago, I might’ve pursued it further. As it is, I read any book I can get my hands on about interesting cases, and watch shows like Dr. G: Medical Examiner with great interest, although I am extremely disappointed that they blur out the organs and blood.

3. My parents told me once that I swallow “backwards,” meaning I add an extra movement in my swallowing routine. I’m not sure how to explain it, but I know it’s physically impossible for me to chug a drink. And if I try to swallow three times in a row, my throat locks up – I can’t do it. (This is also why I take a chewable multivitamin.)

4. I grew up with horses and could ride before I could walk. I used to do gaming: barrel racing, poles, jumping figure 8, etc. I’ve been stepped on, crushed against gates and barns, and bucked off, but I’ve NEVER been kicked.

5. I was the elementary spelling bee champion at school – twice. The best I finished at the regional level was 6th place. I can still remember the word that eliminated me: recapitulate. I had never seen or heard it before, and I spelled it phonetically. The very next day, I kid you not, I saw it in a newspaper article.

6. When I was a kid, I had to have my closet doors shut tight and my bedroom door wide open. The closet doors in my bedroom were the kind that slid open, and if my parents needed to get something while I was sleeping, they wouldn’t close the doors because they made so much noise. This freaked me out GREATLY when I woke up in the middle of the night to discover the doors partially open.

7. I always beat the expert’s listed time when I do Framework puzzles. And I always use a pen, never a pencil. Pencils are for wafflers. These puzzles are something of an obsession, I’m afraid. But at least I’m staving off Alzheimer’s, right?

Time: Early Sunday morning, sometime between Way Too Early a.m. and Why Are You Waking Me Up To Have A Conversation For Chrissakes a.m.

Jason, loudly: Why do I always have to get us up?

Me: What? You said you’d wake me because you’d already be up.

Jason: Well, what time do you want to get up?

Me, confused: We discussed this. 8:30.

Jason: But you have to be at work by 8:30!

Me, realizing the reason for this ridiculousness: OK. HEY. IT’S SUNDAY.

Jason: zzzzzzzz

Me, wide awake.

Scene: Booking our road trip to Denver to see the Twins play the Rockies

Jason: This hotel is less than a mile from Coors Field.

Me: But all the other hotels are a mile in the other direction. What if this is in a sketchy neighborhood?

Jason, sighing: Won’t people have to walk in our direction to get to their cars after the game?

Me: Yes, sketchy people. Two miles is a big difference. The difference between the good and bad sides of town.

Jason: You can’t know that. You’ve never been to Denver!

Me: Regardless.

Scene: Requesting our seat preference for the flight

Jason: I want the aisle.

Me: Well, I want the window.

Jason: No! Someone annoying will sit between us.

Me: Well, I’m not taking the middle – it sucks!

Jason: I’m definitely taking the aisle.

Me: Well then I’ll take the aisle seat across from you.

Jason: Fine.

Me: Fine. (After confirming): Wait. Now I’m not on the window, dammit!

Jason: Heh. Good one.

Scene: While doing our taxes online with Turbo Tax

Turbo Tax: I will walk you through this step by step. We will now review your W2s and the 8 income groups. Then we’ll work on your 1099s.

Me: Man, this Turbo Tax is awesome.

Jason: Yeah.

Turbo Tax: Hey, please remove the gum from your mouth because this will require all of your easily-distracted-by-cats-and-shiny-objects attention. Also, even though I am speaking to you at a 3rd grade reading level, turn down the radio because you are the last person to need any distractions.

Me: Wow. Turbo Tax has an attitude.

Jason: But it’s right, you know.

Me: I know.

Shauna and I are both extremely competitive when it comes to, well, everything. How else can you explain why two people keep track of who wins more games of cribbage, darts and foosball? We even used to keep track shooting pool, but quit after a 13-game marathon night, and we got a bit burnt out. It also may have been because Shauna beat me 12-1 that night and I refuse to see how badly I continue to lose.

It’s great having a game room in our house, thus giving us the ability to play bar games and not have to leave the confines of our basement.

This is a little late, but here are the 2007 totals:
Cribbage winner: Jason 164 – 145
Darts winner: Jason 33-18
Foosball winner: Shauna 60-22

You know the competition is fierce when Shauna was accused of cheating in an especially heated game of late-night foosball last night. I’m not sure who would have done that, but I still swear she may have been taking two points per goal in our last game.

One aspect of my job involves doing trademark searches. It can be pretty tedious, especially when the naming committee (of which I am sometimes a member, so I am also to blame) commits to names that are as generic as possible. (“How about “the”? That would be a good name – see if that’s available.”)

I then have to slog through hundreds of entries on the U.S. Patent & Trademark site to make sure there’s no conflict with using the name, market- or geography-wise. You wouldn’t believe what ends up being trademarked. Like the word “Bacon” (musical instruments); “Poop” (a line of t-shirts, sweatshirts and hats); and “Dick’s Perky Pickles” which, despite what it sounds like, are actually pickles. Blended with horseradish.

When the boredom becomes too much, I sometimes escape to the bathroom. We have private bathrooms at work. One toilet, one sink, one door that can be locked, zero ways for the account managers to find me and give me more work. Heavenly.

Usually there’s a spray bottle full of some scented crap to get rid of the scent of crap, and yesterday I was pleasantly surprised to walk into the bathroom and smell vanilla. But as I took a deep breath, I realized much too late that it wasn’t vanilla, but rather the smell a industrial-sized barrel of baby powder would give off if it exploded in a 6X6 room with no ventilation.

After guzzling a glass of water to rid the coating of powder on my tongue, I set about making oatmeal for breakfast. I am very particular about it: the amount of water I add has to be precise. As I was adding water, a coworker started talking to me. Because I couldn’t do two things at once, namely, add water to my oatmeal and translate thoughts into speech, I added too much.

I let it congeal for a bit and decided to try it. And my first spoonful featured a hanging string of watery oatmeal intestines, god almighty, and I’m not sure I can recover. I cannot express to you the sheer magnitude of my dismay. The oatmeal was slimy, watery and hanging from my spoon defiantly when it should have already been digesting in my stomach. Gaaaaaah™.