Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on December 28, 2006

(I promise you, that title is not meant to be dirty. And I should change it. But it’s funny. I promise you in a few short paragraphs, you’ll see the funny too.) (Oh, and I can’t wait to see the hits I get off of Google with this one!) 

And I was worried I wouldn’t have anything to write about today.

So I figured I would send out my farewell e-mail to all my work peeps today, in case I forget and don’t get around to it tomorrow. You know with all the crying celebrating. And the clock watching.

So I compose a very nice e-mail. Telling everyone how to get a hold of me. And that it was a pleasure to work with all of them. And that I’ve really enjoyed my year and a half here. And keep in touch. KIT! BFF! Have a kick ass summer!

Two seconds later, my phone rings. And I’m all “man, I’m so loved at this company. They just couldn’t wait to wish me a fond farewell.”

Um, no. Am an idiot. Who, despite years as a self-proclaimed proofreading Nazi, had a bit of a slip in my goodbye e-mail.

It went something like this:

I hope I’m lucky enough to work with suck great people at my next job.

(Suck. SUCK! Oh, the humanity!)

And then I crawled under my desk. To die of embarrassment. Because karma is a bitch and struck me down for making fun of my cousin. Although, mine was totally on accident. I know the difference between suck and such.

It seriously must have been a Freudian slip. I mean, it was a complete line of bullshit. I hope I work with much cooler people. And nicer. And younger. And people who don’t bitch about every little thing. And who all look like DD.

But to diffuse my error, I sent out another e-mail. To inform everyone that yes, I am already drunk. And will be under my desk the rest of that day. In the fetal position

Thank you. Here are all my red pens back.

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Posted By Kristabella on December 27, 2006

So airing on WGN this past Sunday (which I think was Christmas Eve. But I’m not sure as all the days run together and I can’t even remember if I washed my hair in the shower. And hair washing ranks higher than what day a TV show ran.) (Sadly.) Anyway, on Sunday was this special about the children’s programs that have aired on WGN through the years. It talked about Garfield Goose (um Garfield is a cat silly. Not a goose. A cat. C-A-T.) and Ray Rayner and Friends (huh?) and last, but not least, Bozo! T. Clown!

It was a nice little ditty (who the fuck says ditty?) (me apparently) showing things from each of these three shows. Garfield Goose was some show with puppets. Kinda like the early Mister Rogers Neighborhood of Make Believe. (Weeeeeee! Fun site!) Except the puppets didn’t talk. The goose just snapped his beak together. But the dude (who would later end up on Bozo’s Circus), who was dressed like a Colonel or something (just read he was a Prime Minister. Excuuuuuuse me.), couldn’t understand the snapping. The rabbit or beaver “translated” for him (my mom told me all this because she watched the show as a kid.) But the rabbit/beaver didn’t talk either. Just moved his mouth. Very weird. And then it would show cartoons. And one of them was called Clutch Cargo. And it was really strange (like tripping-on-LSD-kind-of-strange) with a cartoon dude with human talking lips. Apparently that was animation in a hurry in the 60s. (You really won’t understand the oddity until you click the link and watch a clip.)

Ray Rayner and His Friends was another Chicago classic. (Although, this is the first I’ve heard of it.) He showed cartoons, sang and had a duck. That usually tried to bite him. And apparently Ray didn’t much care for animals. But he would also give the weather and traffic. Just what an eight year old cares about before going to school. Oh! And Cuddley Duddley (who later appeared on Bozo) was originally on Ray’s show. Reading mail and doing the whole shtick from the doghouse. (And the voice of Cuddley is totally Cooky the Clown! Who was some master puppeteer.)

(And totally thought it was Cookie. Cooky makes WAY more sense. Because the only cookies on the show were the ones you got for getting the ball in bucket number one. Archway cookies. Remember? Hip Hip? Hooray!) (I swear, the things my brain retains. Must I point out again I don’t remember if I shampooed my hair? Yet, I remember Archway cookies and the Bozo Buckets?) (I should get a prize. And not cookies. I should get like a bucket-number-six-prize like a BRAND. NEW. SCHWINN. BICYCLE! Eeeee!) (Am so lame.) (And addicted to parentheses.) (See?) (OK, I’ll stop.) (Seriously.)

These shows were so incestuous. Apparently puppeteers, clowns and the like were not easy to come by back in the day. Or probably now in the day either.

(I’ve so lost any point I meant to have with this post. Must explain why I can’t remember things. Like my shower this morning. And I didn’t even drink last night.)

It was quite awesome to watch this walk down memory lane. I forgot about The Bozo Show. I mean, I can’t even tell you the last time I watched it. It was probably junior high. And not because I was old and didn’t want to watch a kid’s show. (Puh. Lease. I’ve just spent 20 minutes on the Mister Rogers site. Meow meow crazy person meow.) Actually, it’s because Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles was my morning show of choice in high school. Seriously. I mean I left the house way before The Grand Prize Game, so what was the point anyway? (Damn, we started high school early.)

But I forgot about the Bozo-puter. And the big drums where they pulled out the “at home” player’s name. And Wizzo! From Nirobia. Or somewhere fake. And he’d do magic. (And is/was apparently a well-respected magician before donning a weird beard and shiny hat and weird medallion and going “nuu nee nuu nee nuu nee.” His name is Marshall Brodien. And he sells magic shit.)

I had no idea as a kid that WGN was a nationwide station. And that kids all over the country woke up to watch Bozo T. Clown and the Grand Prize Game. And the Grand March. It wasn’t until I went away to school in AZ that someone asked me if I was ever on the show. (The answer is no. My brother went. But sadly the Bozo-puter was not kind to him.) (Now people just ask if I’ve ever been to Oprah. That answer is no, too.)

I wish I appreciated the greatness of the show as a kid. I mean, there really was nothing else like it. And hasn’t been anything like it since. Kids today (apparently I just turned into crotchety old woman, shaking fists about those damn kids today) would never watch a show like that. “You mean, it’s real people? Throwing pies at each other? Change the channel.”

And dammit, I wish I could have played Bozo Buckets. I would have totally sucked. And then would have ran off the stage, stopping only to steal that $100 bill out of bucket number six. And tasted the sweet, sweet victory of Archway cookies. From bucket number one. Because only idiots missed bucket number one. Or blind kids.

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Posted By Kristabella on December 26, 2006

I have decided that the worst part about Christmas is having to come back to work the next day and get back into your normal routine. There’s no more fun. And it’s no more holiday parties. No one is sending you cards and candy. I guess it’s not as bad as after the 1st of a new year when it’s no more holidays for a long time. At least you can use this week to prepare for the upcoming New Year’s Eve celebrations.

So how was your Christmas, Internet? Did you get everything you wanted? Did you eat until your belt had to be loosened a notch? What? You didn’t even wear a belt? Good move, Internet. You are much smarter than I.

So I have to say, Santa was very good to me this year. (Like baseball had been berry, berry good to Sammy Sosa.)

I got the gift I most wanted. In the whole wide world! (No, not alcohol. Although I did get some of that.) I got THIS DVD. Eeeeeee! I cannot wait to watch it when I get home tonight. Hours and hours of Richard Dawson. And Dumb Dora. And the big money Super Match. And so many laughs, I could blank myself!

I also got lots of gift cards so that I can buy some new clothes for my new job. To fool them into the thinking that I am indeed fashionable.

And speaking of new clothes, my mom bought me a cashmere sweater. Cashmere. Because as I informed her, as it is with all my tastes (i.e. light beer, hot dogs, Taco Bell), I need the highest quality of material. Because all those regular, synthetic sweaters make me all itchy. My body is just meant to only wear cashmere. Duh. Am now too fancy for my own good. Except apparently cashmere is super cheap now. There was this big expose in the paper about it. Poor Chinese goats. (I liked it better when I didn’t know it was made of goats. But that may be why I’ve had the urge to eat a tin can all day today.)

But now I’m back at work. Ready to scream. And no one is even here today. (Which is good for traffic. And the lack of stupid people calling in here.) But apparently it is my job to cut down everyone else’s empty boxes in the storage room? Against fire code or something. Why does fire care if they are put-together boxes or flat boxes? I don’t think fire is prejudiced at all when it comes to what to burn. Fire does not discriminate. Fire is good like that.

And I really can’t wait for these last three days to be over and done with. (I know. I know. I’ve been saying that for the last however many days since I gave my notice.) I just don’t get people. I mean, all the ladies and the people I’m closest to here act the same towards me. They are all genuinely excited about my new gig and really happy for me. As they should be. I am Queen. (Of more than mailing packages.)

But then there are the douche bags that just act all differently towards me. I’m still the same person. Yeah, you aren’t going to come up to me and ask me to work on a huge project. But that shouldn’t stop you from talking to me IN GENERAL. And then when they do talk to me, it’s all forced and laced with fakeness and seething with hatred. HATRED.

And that really bothers me. I know, I am far too much of a people pleaser and it bothers me when people don’t like me. I mean, hellooooo, how could you not love me? But it really bothers me when people who liked me all of 2 weeks ago turn on you. I know, I know. I shouldn’t take it so personally. But I do. If I piss in your shoe, you have all reasons under the sun to shoot me looks of death. But if I leave your small, not-advancing-anywhere company for more money and a shorter commute? Suck it up and be a grown up.

But to me, it’s very similar to when you get fired or something bad happens to you. You really find out who your true friends are in these instances. I learned that the hard way when I got the boot from Niners. As soon as word got out, I had tons of phone calls from people. And e-mails out the wazoo. And I still remember the people I didn’t hear from. And I don’t talk to any of those people anymore.

Same with me leaving this company. There are four sales people that I haven’t heard from. One of them I didn’t like. The other ones I thought we were cool. I mean, they were no DD, but we still got along well. And unless I hear from them in the next three days, they are off my Christmas card list!

And next year I’m totally stalking Lou Pinella. Or Jim McMahon.

Category: General | Comments Off on Back to Life. Back to Reality.
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Posted By Kristabella on December 25, 2006

Wishing you and yours a very Merry Christmas!

Cheers, Big Ears!

And that pretty much sums it up!

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Posted By Kristabella on December 24, 2006

I’m so glad that December is ending. And I won’t be stressing about my self-imposed writing decree. Because you know what? I don’t really feel like writing on Christmas Eve. Or Christmas Day. So expect something totally cheestastic tomorrow. No one reads on weekends/holidays anyway. So I’m just thinking of you, the readers, and giving you less to catch up on come Tuesday, or Wednesday for those of you who work for cool companies that gave you the 26th off.

I need to write quick so that I can get my cookies out and get to bed. I don’t want to walk in on Santy Claus. Putting presents under my…coffee table? Hmm, where does he put them when you don’t have a tree? He best not just leave them outside the door under the wreath, lazy fat man.

So I just got back from the traditional Christmas Eve dinner with my stepmom and half-sisters. It was quite the time, as always. The food was awesome, as always. It’s interesting to see my sisters as grown people. I was 11 when the oldest was born, so I pretty much was grown when they were babies. And now the oldest is in college. (Am soooo old.) (And by the way, was I like that when I was 18?) But we had a great time and very causal, which is just how I like it.

I started thinking about my holidays I spent in California when I was working for the 49ers and we didn’t have the luxury to go home for Christmas. Or the luxury of even having the day off sometimes. At least not since they changed the start of the season until after Labor Day. In 2000 we had our last game on 12-23 and I got to go home. Because we were 6-10. (And no, sadly, I didn’t have to look up the date of the game. We played Denver. In Denver. And I think we lost 23-9.) (I really need to get out more.)

But I had some wonderful Christmases in Cali. My favorite was probably the year I went over to Jack and Cindy’s and we had such an awesome, homemade Christmas dinner of chili cheese dip. And cheesy potatoes. And booze. Cindy thought she could go shopping on Xmas day. Only Walgreens was open. And the Asian market.

Then there was my last Christmas in 2005 when I went to Amber’s parents’ house. It was awesome because we had enchiladas and homemade tamales. I was in heaven because I lurrrve Mexican food. Amber was not pleased. Give her a good ham or turkey. And then we played Jenga! Good times.

But I really enjoyed all these Christmases there. Yes, I would have enjoyed being with my family, but these people were my family. A lot of us were transplants and had just each other. And that’s all we needed. There was no stress. No drama. Just friends hanging out like any other day. We always had good times. And we usually went to see movies on Christmas night, which was foreign to me, but totally awesome!

The other thing I thoroughly enjoyed was the drinking. Because usually I just crashed at Cindy’s on her couch. (That actually happened far too often. She’d probably second that.) And now that I’m back here, I am the driver. I drive for my mom and my Gram because Gram can’t drive anymore and Mom hates driving in the dark. (I’m so looking forward to getting old.)

And I don’t mind doing this for them. I really am glad I’m back here and able to celebrate with my family. Believe me. Why else would someone move from California to Illinois? I mean, you’ve seen my cute niece and nephews. They were reason alone.

But I do miss drinking bottles (yes, bottles) of red wine. And puking in Kirk & Teri’s bathroom. And passing out on The Jens’ couch.

Ahhhhh………those were the days.

Category: General | Comments Off on Eve of Reminiscing
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