Encounters with Nature

Little more than a year ago, I reported that a pair of hawks had made the campus their winter hunting grounds... what with the ample supply of chipmunks and squirrels.

Since then, everyone talks about seeing one of them with a dead squirrel or eating a dead squirrel - how messy it was. I thought my last encounter was close. Well, yesterday it got closer. On my way to my car at the end of the day, I saw the hawk fly into a tree up ahead. I thought "cool! Maybe I can get a picture." So I get my camera phone out (of all days to leave my digital camera at home), hoping to get close enough that one could make out that there was a bird in the tree. Just as I got past the railing, the hawk swooped down and about 18 inches away from me... straight at a trio of squirrels on the tree to my left. She then flew back up and over another student and into the tree.

I watched her make 3 more attempts to get the squirrel before moving on. One of the faculty members walking by said "We should name them Peabody. Good riddence. They need to thin out the rodent population."

As Carrie Bradshaw said "You can't make friends with a squirrel. Squirrels are just rats with cuter outfits. "

Belly Dance Video Pick

The Belly Dance Superstars were on KTLA recently. Someone captured their appearence and put it on the web. Unfortunately, the file is massive. It took a minute to DL on my industrial-grade connection here at work.

If you do watch it, the dancers in order are Bozenka (who is trying a little too hard to look like Jillina now that she's dyed her hair red), Rachel Brice (*squeal!!!!* GAWD she's amazing!), Petite Jamilla, and Sonia with Issam.

For the Nashville folk, BDSS will be in town on Saturday, February 18th at the Belcourt. They will be appearing at 2pm at Borders on West End for a signing of the new Solos from Monaco dvd as well as other merch and photo taking opportunities. I won't be there because I will be at the Sonia and Issam workshop. That weekend is very much PK's all bellydance-all the time weekend. Heh.

If you want to see them in your city, check the BDSS calendar.

Adventures in Rubbernecking

On my way home from the store yesterday, traffic was really bad. It's a Sunday.. it's not raining. It's actually very pretty. What could be going on?

There was a wreck.

OK... I can handle that. It's in the left lane. People are having to merge to the right to get out of the way.

Well... about 50 feet further, in the right lane, there is another wreck. Why? Because people were looking up the hill at the apartment complex where a Nashville fire truck was flashing its lights and had its ladder extended for something. Would I have been looking if I were actually moving? No. I saw it because I was at a dead stop waiting for the people in front of me to merge.

Incident #2: Monday morning. 21st ave S. There is a woman holding a large particle board sign that she holds to hide most of her face.. sort of an industrial grade veil. On it, she has the following statement "ID Theft Covered by Law Officials."

Dance is Life

Elena suggested that I do another 'dance is life' post. I am not sure I've done one previously and I'm not sure what she wants to see out of it.. but perhaps she just wants me to talk about it to other people and not only her (just teasin' you, sweetie).

This past weekend, I went to my first ballroom dance competition. One of the owner's of the studio where I take lessons and his former competitive partner performed in a couple of exhibitions. They are former US champions (3-time US champions in American Smooth). Last Friday night, they did a waltz-based program. I wish I could put into words what I saw. Just thinking about it makes me all teary. Etheral is the best word I can think of. It was dance as languange and pure emotion.

I listen to some people say that they just have to dance or else they will burst. I'm never sure what to make of their statement. Personally, I think they are weird. I love dance. But I won't die if I don't. Upset? Sorely unhappy? Quite possibly. I'll die if I don't breathe or eat or drink water. I won't even die for lack of sleep unless I happen to be in a car, pass out and crash.

Perhaps it is because I've never felt that burning desire to create something. Dance to me is an expression of emotion. For example, I had a conversation with someone recently that left me in such a mood that I was giddy to the point of being insanely goofy. All the way home, I listened to one of my favorite belly dance CDs and sang along as best I could (though I really don't know what they are saying). I got home, put on my headphones and mp3 player and danced for about 15 minutes, expressing the joy I had after this conversation. Then I got to my regularly scheduled dance lesson and my instructor must have thought "what is with this girl?" because I couldn't stop grinning or giggling for no apparent reason.

Dance isn't life. Dance is a form of communication. It is a language. It conveys an emotion, an idea, and an image. Not everyone gets it. And that's ok.

The show everyone else is talking about

but I have yet to watch.... so I'm going to take a silly little quiz about it and wind up being a character I'm not familiar with at all.


Nina Myers


Which 24 Character are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

The Puffy Shirt, Part Deux

I saw this item in a popular chain bookstore the other night and nearly frightened the clerk with my squeal. I could make PK the proud owner of a carefully-enshrined-in-a-blister-pack male-fashion-doll-sized Puffy Shirt!! I thought.

I got the clerk to pull the box off the shelf behind her, and she informed me that sadly, I must purchase the Seinfeld Seasons 5 & 6 DVDs in order to get the Puffy Shirt.

Dag, yo.

$80.00 for an eeny-weeny Puffy Shirt. Uh-unh....I don't think so.


Yes, folks, you can purchase a Puffy Shirt for your Ken doll, but.......should you?

I'm just sayin' .......

The Most Important Question I've Found Yet

Fishkite asks about soft drinks and The choice of a binary generation

Blessings

This is a random thought but... it's good.

I got to thinking about the fact that my parents and grandparents are gone the other day. It was the first time in a long time I cried about it, particularly for my dad. I can't recall crying over his passing. Maybe I have at some point. I don't remember.

Jehovah-Jireh - God does provide.

I lost my mom but have gained 2 more - a lady at church and a lady at work. They both say to me every now and then "If I may be a mother for a moment..." and they are so supportative and loving.

I lost my dad but God sent a man that is more like a dad than my biological father was. I've unofficially become his 4th daughter.

I've gained another family though my brother's fiancee' (he proposed 2 weeks ago!). It has taken a long time but both my brother and I finally relax around them - not fearing the guilt trips, reprisals, and anger that would come with our blood family gatherings.

It feels good.

Understatement of the Year

Realtor (responding to voice mail left yesterday - she returned a phone call! Hell froze over!): Pink Kitty, I could tell from your message that you were frustrated and irritated.

Pink Kitty's response upon hearing this message: Give you a gold star for observation! What could have possibly clued you in? Geez!

No, I didn't actually say this. I'm still not up to actually speaking to her. We are using voice mail to communicate.

Elena has been writing again v. 2

Polka-dotted Sky

Question...

Does anyone know how I can fire my real estate agent (because she is an incompetant idiot who has decided she no longer has to work for the commission) and not give her a commission.. AND keep the condo I want to buy?

This is my own fault - I didn't go through my previous realtor. He's a good agent. This lady is the freak who sits in the model all day who apparently can't get clients on her own. I was so thrilled to be getting an end unit, I let that cloud my judgement. But that doesn't excuse her for not returning my infrequent calls or answering my simple questions (like "how big is the central heat/air unit? It looks like it is a 1.5 ton unit, which would be large enough for the space but could you check on that?")

But I've had it and she hasn't done a freakin' thing to earn her commission. And I found out that yes I can fire her but she still gets her commission. WHAT THE HE** KIND OF RACKET IS THAT!?!?! You can be fired for being a bad agent and STILL make money?! She doesn't deserve any of my money. Anybody have any advice on what I should do?

More Fun with the News2 Scrolly Thing

It's Friday isn't it? Click on the images to see the whole thing.

I lost Smith and Wesson...

Not literally. They are at home.. probably asleep in the laundry. Or climbing into a box on the top shelf that makes you wonder "How in the heck did he get up there?!"

Weight-wise.

I think I told y'all that I have been meeting with a nutritionist and that I met my weight loss goal for 2005. That was through a combination of working on my own (-15 lbs) and weight management program(-15 lbs).

When I started this program in November, we set a goal for the 3 month program of 20 lbs. For those that have trouble with math, like me. For 2006, I've lost 5 lbs thus far.

Now - in just around 2 months, I've met that goal and down 35 lbs from my heaviest just under a year ago.

It is nearly impossible to put into words what that feels like for me. My cats weigh about 10 lbs each. I lost Smith and Wesson. Wow. Yep. It's a good day.

No, No, a Thousand Times No

Via NIT, I saw this post about the puffy shirt.

OK, so Gerard Butler looked good in The Phantom of the Opera, but I don't think I was near-drooling because of "the Puffy Shirt." Seriously. The guy is smokin' and looked really good in leather in Lara Croft: Cradle of Life. Too bad he had to die. That just sucked.

Anyway, here is a major example of what not to wear... the puffy shirt:



Update: Elena sent the picture to me.

Caption Contest Winner

Always funny, as usual. Very creative... it gets to be a hard decision sometimes, you know. But the winner is:

Digital Cowboy with:

"George! George!

Stop that! You're old enough to know better and I'm tired of telling you!"

Congrats!

Shopping!

Shop CD Baby - the best in independent music. I love everything I've purchased from them. They are having a big ol' honkin' sale.

$5 Specials

Put 3 or more of the CDs on the sale page and they will be discounted to $5 a piece. Shipping is reasonable, too. Get there and get some.

Full disclosure: I don't get a kickback. I say it because I love them. And I'm a girl - genetically wired to shop and find sales.

*sighs*

I'm a few days late with this. Not that anyone will really care.

So it seems that the campus is all aflutter that The Bachelor happens to work here (I know somebody over in ER... I should ask her about him. She told me the whole scoop when TLC did its show about the residents here - that one girl wasn't as ditzy as she was on camera but because she was shown in a spaced out moment, no patients wanted anything to do with her).

Anyway, via Brittney via Heather, I poked around the show's website and became amused with the facts that:

1) Almost every girl wanted someone tall, dark and handsome (one even had a height requirement and 2 said "perfect teeth")
2) 3 girls described their perfect date which included a private jet trip somewhere

My favorite profile - Yvonne:

Hometown: Miami, FL
Age: 28

My three best attributes: Compassionate, dedicated, assertive
My perfect date would be: Being with someone who did nothing to annoy me
My ideal mate is: Tall, lean with dark hair, witty, open and lets me be the center of attention

She's also a CFO. Kudos on her accomplishments. Something about her picture says "I eat testicles for breakfast"... maybe that is just me. Granted, I want to be with someone who doesn't annoy me but I think her attempt to be funny completely back fired. She comes across as self-absorbed (uh... wait... there's that whole being the center of attention thing).

Thus ends all that I really have to say about The Bachelor.

What I did Saturday

Defensive Driver Training...

- or -

First Offenders Class

I ran a stop sign a while back (well, technically it was a rolling slow. The officer didn't agree with me on that fact). Since it was my first ticket, I opted to go waste a Saturday morning and have the thing expunged from my record by sitting in a driver's training class. Here's the gist:

1) Pay attention to the road and not your cell/kids/radio/cute person in next car/hamburger/makeup/etc....
2) Slow down - you drive too fast.

We could have handled that in 10 minutes but now... 2 hours of listening to a very nice little woman with a Latin American accent talk about collisions and death on the road was near enthralling *cough cough*. Then there was the the 1992-era video with what's his name from Coach and a bunch of other people that I'm sure were the bomb in the early 90's but are now relegated to Trival Pursuit pop-culture edition questions.

Am I a better driver? Eh. I am leaving more distance between my car and the one in front of me.. and I use my turn signal. Can that be considered an improvement?

Candy

I got a hazelnut truffle from one of the girls at work. It had this little wrapper on the inside of the foil wrapper. Written on it, in multiple languages, is the following:

Woman: You don't understand me!
Man: What do you mean?

PK *staring at the wrapper, looking all sorts of confused* thinks: Does this bad acting on this piece of wax paper make the chocolate taste bad? Nope. It doesn't. Yummmmm...

New Year, New Caption Contest

I think this needs little introduction....



Note: As always, please keep your captions safe for work. Thanks!

It fell into a burning Ring of Fire

Since Johnny Cash is no longer Stayin' Alive (none of us can have Immortality), the estate had to do something with his home.

Making us Cry, Cry, Cry is the fact that Bee Gees’ Barry Gibb buys the Cash home. Mr. Gibb probably sees is bit differently seeing it as Too Much of Heaven. He will likely change it One Piece at a Time and live there Until The Man Comes Around.

(thanks Miss O'Hara!)

Today's Funny Word

Garanimals