Master of My Own Domain

when you share a bed with someone, you get accustomed to their sleeping habits. snoring, blanket hogging, kicking, tossing and turning, drool on the pillow, talk in their sleep, and all sorts of weird baggage that comes with a person sleeping.

i sleep flamingo style. kinda on my left side. left leg straight, right leg with knee up towards my chin and bent. kinda like a flamingo. but here is the thing. i am a stationary flamingo. i will fall asleep and wake up in the same position as when i went to bed. my kicker is that i am up ridiculous early all on my own. i've never needed an alarm clock in my life. i don't know where i got this internal rise and shine thing, but it usually makes the person i am sharing a bed with not happy. because in the summer i am naturally up at 5 and ready to go, no coffee needed. so it is a pain in my side when i wake up before 5 and have to lie there calmly and quietly trying not to rouse (roose?) the other person.

so earlier this week when i had the bed to myself i felt like the master of my own domain. i could use all four pillows. sleep in the middle off the bed. turn our illegal ac all the way to high and put the fan on me. sleep with my favorite quilt. have the radio on at night or throw in my i-pod on my sleeping soundtrack. do you think i did any of these things? DAMN right I did. and it was gratifying and wonderful and i woke up at 5:15 and started dancing around in my underwear to The Current. why? because i could. master of my own domain, even if it was mere moments.

Harry Potter Hangover

I'm not suffering for what's mentioned above. Nope. Having only read the first two book and have only seen the first three films, I'm not suffering from a Harry Potter hangover. But I have plenty of loved ones who are. You see the final book came out this weekend (unless you were living under a rock you prolly knew as much) and the latest movie opened the week before. So needless to say, all of the Gryffendor groupies out there are in remission and are need of some serious drugs to cure their hangover.

As loved ones to such people with the disease, there are a few warning signs.

First, check the eyes. They could be weary and tired from having sped read through a 700+ page novel. And depending on where your loved one is in the spectrum of the "gryffendor groupie" they could already be re-reading

Second, looks for marks on their head. Some of the crazies actually dress up as such characters and find themselves will strange and peculiar marks on their face.

Third and final, look for your friend who is a little happy but a little depressed. Kinda of what I suspect a teenage mom would be like after giving her kid up for adoption. They are happy and satisfied knowing Harry (and child) will have a good life, but sad that they have to let it go.

Knowing J.K. Rowling there could be a potential hotline for those with the Harry Hangover. But as much obligation to the word, keep in my these three tips.

Oh and while everyone else is suffering from harry hangover, I have been practicing for World Series of Pop Culture. I was rusty to begin with, but now watch out baby, I'm on fire. And leading one of the categories today. I've succumbed to my own devices --- random trivia.

It's what I didn't want to do before interview

so for those who read my rambles, you prolly get a sense of who i am. how misfortunes or oddities happen on a frequent basis, that i usually have a comment for just about anything and that i am not a "speechless" person. hence the irony in the title. but yesterday.

let the record state i am usually a timely person in my professional life. personal life, i am vague and a big fan of the "ish" term. 5:30ish , 7ish, you get the deal. so yesterday i can't find the place i am suppose to be in an interview. it was a very humbling and embarrassing experience. i literally was looking at the building but for a lack of signage drove around it several times. but at least i was calling the person i was interviewing with so let them know i was going to be tardy. so i am already five minutes late and feeling like a fool. good start, kid.

i feel like i tell very long stories for my answers. i am trying to be the rambles to a minimum. but they are asking 7 questions in one question and i'm trying to answer everything.

i said "freakin" in the interview. that can't be good.

it last for two hours. which was prolly 45 minutes longer than they thought it was going to go. but i know they want a candidate with all of my lovely qualifications. and since i'm little miss nonprofit (see earlier entry for more info) and this was a nonprofit, that's gotta count for something. but here is the kicker. i go to leave, throw on my $9.99 shades from Heartbreakers and one of my lenses falls out. Nice. that's classy. jeepers, whatta embarrassing experience. but my bravado was not embarrassing, except maybe to myself. oh the pain. and i get to sit with it all day and hope that scott baker can pull out a W.

Retrieve a Golden in Minnesota

I'm in love. Stop the presses. I am in love, twice. And it fills my heart up with warm fuzzy feelings and I can't even stand it. I'm in love with a brother and a sister.

That's right. I am in love with siblings. Who were left on the side of the road to die. It's not just my heart strings or this sounds like the dismal flick Grey Matters, featuring the mother of Tom Brady's soon-to-be-son. These siblings are so adorable, I feel I couldn't love one without the other.

And I am moving into (hopefully) an apartment that will take pets. Goodness aren't these guys adorable. It tugs on my heart strings. Yes I'm a softy when it comes to big dogs. But these two where thrown off of a truck on the highway and Dodger the yellow one was burned by car exhaust. They are so little and adorable. Usually I am partial to taking the older dogs since no one wants a dog over 10, but these two are so freakin adorable. I'm in love with siblings.

Friendly Man Dates

What happens when you have more opposite friends than same sex friends? You have what I call the friendly man dates. Female and Male don't think of it as a date, they just think of it as drinking beer, talking smack and catching a sporting event. But everyone else on the PLANET will assume that you are either a) on a date b) currently dating c) marriend and can' wait to have babies.

Yes all of these things occurred to me on a glorious Sunday Twins game. WTF?

I went with my guy pal JW. We've been friends for a few years. Thrown together by a mutual friend we both have in common. Mutual friend moved out of state, to below the Mason Dixon line, and now me and JW hang out frequently. So he had free tickets, called me up and we go.

Now we don't hold hands or have any other body language that would suggest we would be dating. We also have never been friends with benefits or anything of the sorts. But we have pretty decent friend banter. Not different from any other male in my life. I like to think I was a born conversationalist -- but that doesn't get you anywhere in this world. Except to become a smart ass with a wicked tongue lashing.

So we walking from LTR and a baby boomer couple, who obviously wanted us to overhear them, says "aren't they a cute couple. betcha it's their first date."

My head spins like Linda Blair's in the Exorcist to catch a glimpse of couple, secretly wishing they are having the awkward first date, so that me and JW can mock them. Turns out the baby boomers were talking about us. Just the more reason I don't want to bust my butt to pay for their new condo is Boco Raton.

JW and I exchange perplexed eyebrows to each other. Shrug it off and continue to Gate G. While standing in line, this OBNOXIOUS teenage couple are playing a game. How long do you think the other female-male people in line have been dating? Never taking into consideration friendships or asexuality. C'mon kiddies. I think I overhear 13 months. Random. I've known JW longer than 13 months, but again, WTF.

So now after all of this dating talk, I'm convinced we are going to be on the Kiss Cam during the date. And since I've never thought of JW like that in any sort of way, we both exit for the concessions during the KissCam part of the evening. Only to have a drunk (I hope) woman gush "you two will have the cutest babies. oh your parents should be proud."

I am not kidding. This all happened. Luckily the game sucked so we could bolt right after McDonald struck out. Say goodbye and go our separate ways. I told JW it was because he was will me and that WTF moments happen to me all the time. He agreed and also said that's why he likes hanging out. Because if the WTF moments don't occur, someone will inevitably ask me for directions. It's true. And I have an Army of witnesses for the latter.

So where does this leave me? Good question. I think I'll save it for Ben Tracy on WCCO.

Who wants to help me take down Twisted Misters?

now i usually don't watch too much tv. the occasional or frequent trip to neighborhood bar for sports games and ESPN highlights. but yesterday i succumbed to spending the entire day watching the world series of pop culture. and dammit who wants to be on my team?

most of my friends wouldn't participate. but i think there could be a decent shot. so i am sending my sos to the world, STAT. who wants to compete with me? we discuss strengths and weaknesses, etc. etc. i already have a great MINNESOTA team name but I am open to suggestions. BTW team name i thought of this morning: The Hopeful Replacements Reign and ode to the (Olympic) Hopefuls, The Replacements and Prince's Purple Rain. Or Sin Cities aka Minneapolis and Saint Paul from Drop Dead Gorgeous. but again, open to suggestions. actually i think i found people to consider, but am willing to look for other candidates. because dammit, i want that trophy and some cash would be nice. i feel like lorelai wanting the dance title over kirk. it will be mine, oh yes, it will be mine.